Recent posts
#91
General Discussion / Re: Letter to Gabor Mate
Last post by Chart - January 08, 2026, 11:59:40 AMQuote from: dollyvee on January 08, 2026, 09:20:04 AMHowever, I think her discussion of accountability is a good blueprint for what to look for when you have never had that in your life as well as it's not wrong for people to be accountable.
As a Fawner that's a very poignant idea for me...
#92
Recovery Journals / Re: The tipping point…
Last post by Chart - January 08, 2026, 11:41:59 AMOk, I did it. Did abdominal strengthening, cardiac breathing and PMR. I "cheat". I "trick" myself. I "make deals". No matter how warm and cozy I am in bed, I will always find the energy to make myself a big strong coffee (or tea). So I organize how I'll have my coffee/tea ready and waiting for me when I finish PMR (reward). My routine is usually very early in the morning before going to work. I take over an hour to wake up, so it's not unusual for me to set my alarm for 5am. After it goes off, I doze for at least 45 minutes. I call this the transition. Classically, there is a LOT going on in me at this time. I'm horizontal for starters and that changes everything for me. It is both a period of anxiety AND safety, but the safety has a time limit: I know that it won't last. It's got nothing to do with getting up. Actually, when I do go to a vertical body position, my anxiety plunges, almost to "normal" levels. I can function and usually get on with my day. No, the "safety limit" has to do with my infancy, in my crib, and what was going on outside my room, downstairs, etc. So for years now, I have been exploring this morning "feeling". And as of two years or so, I interact with my inner child at this moment, specifically talking, thinking, imagining I'm hugging him, explaining. All this is imaginary-tactile. I'm dealing with a baby and that baby's capacity of "understanding" their environment is nothing at all like my adult-me capacity. This "translation" of feeling and love and comfort is difficult and weird. Loving others has always been fluid and easy for me. Loving myself on the other hand has taken real effort. It felt totally plastic at the beginning, corny. But I very much appreciated Pete Walker's phrase, "Fake it until you make it..." very much... and took it to heart. I can pretend with all honesty, and over time I've learned... I've learned that that little baby really really suffered, was confused, was terrified and really really wanted "that man" to pick him up and interact with him. He never did. My biological father never gave me any love, quite the reverse. I had a talk with my sister a few months back and mentioned that I always feel like I'm being watched... she confirmed that she has the same feeling, always being observed, someone, somewhere looking questioningly at her. It's the exact same for me. That was our biological father. He was always watching us, like a wary-angry cat who doesn't quite trust anything.
So I did my PMR this morning. It was a little more difficult than usual, but once begun it's only fifteen minutes, so I don't struggle too much. Also, I know the benefits now. Abdominal strengthening is more annoying... I do that first of all, get it out of the way. Cardiac breathing is easy, five minutes usually. Sometimes I do ten. It's just the length of time needed for my tea or coffee to cool sufficiently that I can drink it, check the forum and/or the weather for the day, then PMR.
PMR often gets me crying. That's to say, emotions and tears often well up and come out. Regardless how long I've been doing this, it still comes as a surprise. I usually pause the audio and let it flow the time it needs. I use an audio file I downloaded on my phone (ripped from YT) so I can still be "led" and don't get too lost. Two years I've been doing this and I still feel that I need the person's voice and support (the guy has a German or Austrian accent that totally relaxes me and I really appreciate him...)
So today, during PMR I "sensed" the abandonment wound. I felt it in relation to my last relationship. As I did the exercises, the thoughts of lost love came to me, as they come to me often. That Love that is absent, not there, ungiven... My last relationship was with a woman for whom it was very difficult to give anything, and probably impossible to give emotionally. I remember sensing regularly the situations where aid or support WAS given, it was with resentment and she was not at all at ease doing so. I remember seeing her this way not only with me, but with friends as well. She often wondered aloud to me why she didn't have very many friends. Looking back, I still have feelings of anger... she had a genius-level IQ, but looking into a reflective object, she was totally blind. She was the "construct-to-perfection" to awaken my deepest trauma-wound, abandonment, desperate need for love, ridiculous expectation of understanding or change. Like the million cuts that bleed you out, I woke up one day, off Prozac for nearly a month, went into a panic about a situation with my ex-wife and got a severe reproach from my partner that my behavior was inappropriate for her and that we needed to have a serious talk to correct the situation. I broke up with her. Something in my head said, let's go... let's dance, bring on the chariots and horses and chaos... I surrendered to my inner-child that couldn't stand the humiliation and aloneness and ignorance. You know it's wrong, though no idea what or why. I split in two. For four days or so I reveled in my freedom, feeling a power of decision and control, until one night I awoke in a panic I have never known. I wrote her a text the next morning, and asked for forgiveness, asked that we get back together and try again... even though I knew it was impossible. For four months we "discussed". She showed all the old behaviors and all the evidence came back up into my face. But the pain of the abandonment wound had swallowed me whole. I knew she would never accept me back in her life... I knew I was in for a long haul of suffering and work... I heard an internal voice tell me... years... you're in it for years and years, perhaps forever. I wrote my ex-girlfriend and asked her to not contact me for a year. She has respected that demand and more. After one year, she failed to respond to an email regarding some of her stuff that I wanted to no longer store at my house. I spoke with her mother to organize the situation. I intuitively knew that she was breaking up with her new boyfriend. In hindsight, I know all. But "knowing" doesn't really help much. Now, I want to "feel" something different. And that comes through my body and nervous system... my brain is a sidenote, a distraction, a carnival... Back to life, the present moment, and the fact that nothing is separate. The truth is, I am not wounded at all, I just don't yet know gold when I see it.
So I did my PMR this morning. It was a little more difficult than usual, but once begun it's only fifteen minutes, so I don't struggle too much. Also, I know the benefits now. Abdominal strengthening is more annoying... I do that first of all, get it out of the way. Cardiac breathing is easy, five minutes usually. Sometimes I do ten. It's just the length of time needed for my tea or coffee to cool sufficiently that I can drink it, check the forum and/or the weather for the day, then PMR.
PMR often gets me crying. That's to say, emotions and tears often well up and come out. Regardless how long I've been doing this, it still comes as a surprise. I usually pause the audio and let it flow the time it needs. I use an audio file I downloaded on my phone (ripped from YT) so I can still be "led" and don't get too lost. Two years I've been doing this and I still feel that I need the person's voice and support (the guy has a German or Austrian accent that totally relaxes me and I really appreciate him...)
So today, during PMR I "sensed" the abandonment wound. I felt it in relation to my last relationship. As I did the exercises, the thoughts of lost love came to me, as they come to me often. That Love that is absent, not there, ungiven... My last relationship was with a woman for whom it was very difficult to give anything, and probably impossible to give emotionally. I remember sensing regularly the situations where aid or support WAS given, it was with resentment and she was not at all at ease doing so. I remember seeing her this way not only with me, but with friends as well. She often wondered aloud to me why she didn't have very many friends. Looking back, I still have feelings of anger... she had a genius-level IQ, but looking into a reflective object, she was totally blind. She was the "construct-to-perfection" to awaken my deepest trauma-wound, abandonment, desperate need for love, ridiculous expectation of understanding or change. Like the million cuts that bleed you out, I woke up one day, off Prozac for nearly a month, went into a panic about a situation with my ex-wife and got a severe reproach from my partner that my behavior was inappropriate for her and that we needed to have a serious talk to correct the situation. I broke up with her. Something in my head said, let's go... let's dance, bring on the chariots and horses and chaos... I surrendered to my inner-child that couldn't stand the humiliation and aloneness and ignorance. You know it's wrong, though no idea what or why. I split in two. For four days or so I reveled in my freedom, feeling a power of decision and control, until one night I awoke in a panic I have never known. I wrote her a text the next morning, and asked for forgiveness, asked that we get back together and try again... even though I knew it was impossible. For four months we "discussed". She showed all the old behaviors and all the evidence came back up into my face. But the pain of the abandonment wound had swallowed me whole. I knew she would never accept me back in her life... I knew I was in for a long haul of suffering and work... I heard an internal voice tell me... years... you're in it for years and years, perhaps forever. I wrote my ex-girlfriend and asked her to not contact me for a year. She has respected that demand and more. After one year, she failed to respond to an email regarding some of her stuff that I wanted to no longer store at my house. I spoke with her mother to organize the situation. I intuitively knew that she was breaking up with her new boyfriend. In hindsight, I know all. But "knowing" doesn't really help much. Now, I want to "feel" something different. And that comes through my body and nervous system... my brain is a sidenote, a distraction, a carnival... Back to life, the present moment, and the fact that nothing is separate. The truth is, I am not wounded at all, I just don't yet know gold when I see it.
#93
Recovery Journals / Re: Living As All of Me
Last post by SenseOrgan - January 08, 2026, 10:52:36 AMRE to post #34.
A trauma hijack sucks. I hate it when that happens despite going into a situation consciously and prepared. I get why that feels as a fail. It may be on some level. And it isn't on another. A backlash doesn't necessarily mean it was all for nothing. It makes sense that deeply ingrained safety mechanisms started to take over after/during you did something courageous. You were going against so much programming you had to endure for such a long time, and in such a vulnerable period of your life. You not only did that. You did it graciously and skilfully. You brought the same playfulness and lightness you use to express yourself with clothes to this challenge. "Oh my God I love your coat!" is a highly clever thing to say when you're navigating the layers of intra- and interpersonal tension, while still firmly staying on your own side. You aced at least a part of what I understand was your goal for this meeting. If it was a fail, it doesn't look like an epic one over here. Your intention to go to the cafe the next day does indicate a thing or two. Much respect!
TW/religion
OOTSers generally tend to seek fault within themselves. How about your friend accommodating who you are/have become? Do religious beliefs somehow come with a special right to have people around you fold around those? I'm not talking about respecting the sensitivities around it. It just isn't much fun to be granted so little space to be who you are, because so much of it can hit those long religious toes. A lot of this is often implicit, I think. The question I'd ask myself is if I'd still want to hang out with this person. It's not a crime for people to outgrow each other. That may have happened.
A trauma hijack sucks. I hate it when that happens despite going into a situation consciously and prepared. I get why that feels as a fail. It may be on some level. And it isn't on another. A backlash doesn't necessarily mean it was all for nothing. It makes sense that deeply ingrained safety mechanisms started to take over after/during you did something courageous. You were going against so much programming you had to endure for such a long time, and in such a vulnerable period of your life. You not only did that. You did it graciously and skilfully. You brought the same playfulness and lightness you use to express yourself with clothes to this challenge. "Oh my God I love your coat!" is a highly clever thing to say when you're navigating the layers of intra- and interpersonal tension, while still firmly staying on your own side. You aced at least a part of what I understand was your goal for this meeting. If it was a fail, it doesn't look like an epic one over here. Your intention to go to the cafe the next day does indicate a thing or two. Much respect!
TW/religion
OOTSers generally tend to seek fault within themselves. How about your friend accommodating who you are/have become? Do religious beliefs somehow come with a special right to have people around you fold around those? I'm not talking about respecting the sensitivities around it. It just isn't much fun to be granted so little space to be who you are, because so much of it can hit those long religious toes. A lot of this is often implicit, I think. The question I'd ask myself is if I'd still want to hang out with this person. It's not a crime for people to outgrow each other. That may have happened.
#94
General Discussion / Re: Letter to Gabor Mate
Last post by dollyvee - January 08, 2026, 09:20:04 AMQuote from: Marcine on January 07, 2026, 01:52:20 PMCharisma is so enticing to us humans. And, when it is paired with real (and promised) affection, long-hoped for understanding, and relief for vulnerable folks... well, we become "followers", we overlook inconsistencies, we're capable of believing it hook, line, and sinker.
I respect the ability of the author of that letter to see clearly, to analyze, to assess, to discern, to advocate, and to coherently communicate. Even as it meant confronting some personal disillusionment and required calling out a mainstream, admired expert.
I highly agree Marcine and it sounds like you have developed discernment and balance yourself through your own trials and tribulations. It is always a fine balance for me to walk between the "real and hoped for affection" and being discerning with peoples' actions and often find I veer off into being too trusting (ie I wasn't allowed to mistrust with FOO) and being overly mistrustful (also probably FOO's programming of you can't trust anyone other than us).
So, when these people do show up in my life that have slipped up, sometimes there's vacillation between the two. However, I think her discussion of accountability is a good blueprint for what to look for when you have never had that in your life as well as it's not wrong for people to be accountable. It's ok to ask for these things. I guess whether or not we get them and how to deal with the fallout from that is another thing.
#95
Recovery Journals / Re: Living As All of Me
Last post by SenseOrgan - January 08, 2026, 08:44:36 AMYour post #32 is very close to home for me. It's incredibly validating to read. Thank you very much for sharing that. It took me forever to recognize that being able to handle pretty much anything on my own was trauma related. As a kid, I didn't learn what it is to be part of "we". I learned that I was on my own, and I deeply buried my need to connect, or to depend on others. In a place outside of my awareness. Only my survival self showed up in the outside world, and I always took care of my own stuff. I studied my issues, cut through the bs, hunted down the most appropriate therapies, did all the difficult things, but never really connected to others. That started later. It's insidious to be that good at being independent. The price for it is very high. Eventually it does catch up. It's also difficult to unlearn this type of coping. I think you've described how that happens very well. By following the impulse to connect.
When I became aware of this coping mechanism, I felt like I had been driving in the wrong direction my whole life, and I had to find a way to make a u-turn before I went off the cliff full speed. I can't say I succeeded at that, but I'm no longer heading for the cliff and I'm driving to where I want to be. That is in connection. Loneliness is a pretty bright red light on the dashboard. Bon voyage!
When I became aware of this coping mechanism, I felt like I had been driving in the wrong direction my whole life, and I had to find a way to make a u-turn before I went off the cliff full speed. I can't say I succeeded at that, but I'm no longer heading for the cliff and I'm driving to where I want to be. That is in connection. Loneliness is a pretty bright red light on the dashboard. Bon voyage!
#96
Recovery Journals / Re: The tipping point…
Last post by Chart - January 08, 2026, 08:42:54 AMThank you HannahOne and SenseOrgan.
Extreme exhaustion at the moment. I passed my physical limits Monday and Tuesday. Yesterday it snowed, not much but enough to paralyze the school and much of the transport system. My daughter stayed at home, and me too. We had a lovely day together, made a cake, took a walk in the snow, played scrabble, watched Monty Python's Quest for the Holy Grail, made a pizza... she loves the knights who say "Ni!" But I ate too much sugar and carbs, this morning I broke down in sudden tears in the kitchen, sobbing as the kettle boiled. Made my way back to bed with a tea. I slept like the dead, and still awoke exhausted. Didn't even get up when my daughter went off to school. Normally I do... I feel the eyes of the inner critic peering in at me through the window. I can read his thoughts: he sees a spoiled, lazy, crybaby... And that makes me scared... I need to move my butt... I need my body back, my energy. I'm seeing things coming and it requires a certain amount of action on my part. Picking up the phone is like moving sacs of ciment. How much longer is my psyche going to function like this? I never understood... it indeed can take years to recover. Cptsd is a MAJOR injury. Why is that fact so hard to completely integrate?
Aller, fait ton PMR Chart ! Un petit coup de pied aux fesses... comme HannahOne fait aux prêtres :-)
Extreme exhaustion at the moment. I passed my physical limits Monday and Tuesday. Yesterday it snowed, not much but enough to paralyze the school and much of the transport system. My daughter stayed at home, and me too. We had a lovely day together, made a cake, took a walk in the snow, played scrabble, watched Monty Python's Quest for the Holy Grail, made a pizza... she loves the knights who say "Ni!" But I ate too much sugar and carbs, this morning I broke down in sudden tears in the kitchen, sobbing as the kettle boiled. Made my way back to bed with a tea. I slept like the dead, and still awoke exhausted. Didn't even get up when my daughter went off to school. Normally I do... I feel the eyes of the inner critic peering in at me through the window. I can read his thoughts: he sees a spoiled, lazy, crybaby... And that makes me scared... I need to move my butt... I need my body back, my energy. I'm seeing things coming and it requires a certain amount of action on my part. Picking up the phone is like moving sacs of ciment. How much longer is my psyche going to function like this? I never understood... it indeed can take years to recover. Cptsd is a MAJOR injury. Why is that fact so hard to completely integrate?
Aller, fait ton PMR Chart ! Un petit coup de pied aux fesses... comme HannahOne fait aux prêtres :-)
#97
Recovery Journals / Re: Living As All of Me
Last post by HannahOne - January 08, 2026, 12:18:17 AMArmee, Chart, NarcKiddo, thank you for commenting. I guess it's true it wasnt' a fail. I got out and saw a person. It was just super uncomfortable. 
SenseOrgan, I love that you referenced that quote by Ralph Waldo Emerson! That quote was in my high school yearbook
It's true, as Chart said, people evolve, and that's ok, that's good! Part of me wants to be locked in to something permanent, eternal, but most parts of me want a bigger experience, a wider reach, and to keep learning, growing---which means changing.
SenseOrgan, I love that you referenced that quote by Ralph Waldo Emerson! That quote was in my high school yearbook
It's true, as Chart said, people evolve, and that's ok, that's good! Part of me wants to be locked in to something permanent, eternal, but most parts of me want a bigger experience, a wider reach, and to keep learning, growing---which means changing. #98
Recovery Journals / Re: Living As All of Me
Last post by Armee - January 07, 2026, 11:48:05 PM Not a fail. Just try socializing with less rigid friends. It was probably a wee bit retraumatiizng even to put yourself in that setting.
#99
General Discussion / Re: Letter to Gabor Mate
Last post by Chart - January 07, 2026, 09:00:31 PMQuote from: dollyvee on January 07, 2026, 11:27:22 AMespecially when someone is making money off of it... and therein lies the rub.
Cptsd is a business for a lot (all) of folks... Not sure how I feel about that... It's also a question of degree. A lot of these people give me the creeps sometimes. But even those I don't like, I've learned things from. I think the value of ideas can be independent of their source.
And as for Trust... geez, what a Funhouse. 2 and 1/2 years ago, I flipped out over "betrayal" from my partner, then the same thing occurred with one of my closest friends a few months later. But I learned so much. Losing the illusion of love to discover a deeper sense of who I really am... Everybody gets suckered in this life. I believe if we survive, we learn, the best stuff grows out of sh*t. It's hard, but that's the kind of pain that turns golden once we understand it. Golden Pain doesn't repeat.
#100
Recovery Journals / Re: Living As All of Me
Last post by SenseOrgan - January 07, 2026, 07:23:27 PMWill respond later... Something popped up in my mind. Terence McKenna. Consistency is the hobgoblin of small minds... Looks like he referenced Ralph Waldo Emerson.
"A foolish consistency is the hobgoblin of little minds, adored by little statesmen and philosophers and divines. With consistency a great soul has simply nothing to do. He may as well concern himself with his shadow on the wall. Speak what you think now in hard words, and to-morrow speak what to-morrow thinks in hard words again, though it contradict every thing you said to-day. — 'Ah, so you shall be sure to be misunderstood.' — Is it so bad, then, to be misunderstood? Pythagoras was misunderstood, and Socrates, and Jesus, and Luther, and Copernicus, and Galileo, and Newton, and every pure and wise spirit that ever took flesh. To be great is to be misunderstood."
― Ralph Waldo Emerson, Self-Reliance: An Excerpt from Collected Essays, First Series
"A foolish consistency is the hobgoblin of little minds, adored by little statesmen and philosophers and divines. With consistency a great soul has simply nothing to do. He may as well concern himself with his shadow on the wall. Speak what you think now in hard words, and to-morrow speak what to-morrow thinks in hard words again, though it contradict every thing you said to-day. — 'Ah, so you shall be sure to be misunderstood.' — Is it so bad, then, to be misunderstood? Pythagoras was misunderstood, and Socrates, and Jesus, and Luther, and Copernicus, and Galileo, and Newton, and every pure and wise spirit that ever took flesh. To be great is to be misunderstood."
― Ralph Waldo Emerson, Self-Reliance: An Excerpt from Collected Essays, First Series