Once again, somebody's comments sparked a post from what started as a simple response. Anon, thanks for your comments on this page and and on the "type A&B" page. In a nutshell, she said thanks for the heads up as she tended to trust 12 step folks blindly and had not realized there were some exploitative types in the rooms.
I really need to tread a fine line...AA and 12 step programs saved my life at one time, but nearly cost it another. I managed to get sober there when I could not under my own steam no matter how hard I tried. I'm forever grateful for that, because it has made the rest of my life possible, painful as parts have been.
That said, the most manipulative, scheming, two faced, fair weather friend type people I have ever met, straight or high, have been in 12 step programs or the addictions recovery field. I had the blind trust anon talks about -- after all, these people had literally saved my life and I knew it! And there are some great, decent, and honest people in AA. There are also used car salesmen (I bought a lemon from a guy who used 12-speak and AA "seniority" to get me to trust him when making a purchase I wished I hadn't), spiritual abusers ("when I f&%*ed you over it was God's will"), therapists ( did anyone ever notice that the word spells "the rapist?" -- just kidding sort of...while several of my therapists were akin to rapists, others I have learned to choose have been remarkably helpful) willing to rip up families to make a few thousand bucks, even to the point of driving the abandoned ones to suicide ("oh she was messed up...good thing he left her when he did!"), and this is before even getting to romantic relationships, where as I said, because of my tendency toward trauma repetition, and never having been around healthy people to know any better, and my blind trust in 12 step folk, I got involved with the sickest most twisted people I have ever met in my life. I'm still trying to sort it out 15-20 years later!
I would never tell anyone to avoid all relationships with recovering people...there are some healthy ones I am sure (plus I'm one!), but tread carefully! Trust slowly and cautiously if at all. Trust is earned and provisional, based on actions not words, and not granted eternally, just for now. Pay attention...don't disregard your common sense and intuition...a major part of my recovery has been to slowly reclaim those things...if it looks too good to be true, it probably is.
The thing is, I was so needy and vulnerable, even 5-6 years into recovery, that I ignored all this and rather than waiting and going slowly, I dove in and trusted blindly because I did not know how to develop earned trust over time rather than just give it or withhold it arbitrarily. As a result, I got in traumatic relationships again and again (twice in recovery, to be exact) that I am still struggling with much later. They very nearly cost me my life. They did cost hundreds of thousands of dollars in lost work time when I just could not function because of the results of them. They caused unbearable and completely unnecessary pain and a number of trips to psyche wards and a trauma treatment center. When I have told people the details, they have been amazed that I didn't pick up over this stuff...many just assumed I had. One person I respect a lot, an earth person (i.e., not in 12 step programs) said the last perpetrator was an emotional rapist.
But honestly, I don't know if I could have taken the advice I am giving now, because I was stubborn and thought if I did not get somebody *now* I'd be alone forever. Looking back, I would have been better off alone, but I needed to learn it the hard way I guess. And even today, knowing what I know, I don't know that if I were single and put in the same situation I wouldn't repeat my mistake again. I like to think I have learned better, but I don't know that. I am just glad I am in a healthy non-abusive relationship for a long time and don't have to face that particular weakness in myself.
It is a funny thing...the healthy relationship didn't come with all the drama, risk, and emotional highs -- or lows -- that the sick relationships did, so it took me literally years to figure out that all that drama and ball of hurt I was used to was not an intrinsic part of human relationships! I thought I was missing something and I guess I was. To be honest I missed the rush, just like a drug, but also to be honest, I have learned I certainly don't miss the consequences.
I just have to say, over the few years I have intermittently written this blog, I have been continuously gratified that there are other people who understand. One of the worst parts of my PTSD was thinking I was alone and hopeless and crazy. So thank you to all of you who have commented over the years. You keep me thinking and writing about this stuff, which helps me work stuff through, and I am grateful that something helpful to others has come out of something so insufferable.
Friday, March 13, 2009
Tuesday, December 09, 2008
PTSD and the holidays revisited...
Holidays have always been rough for me. A lot of trauma anniversary (pdf) stuff comes between Thanksgiving and New Years for me. I didn't even realize it but my partner pointed out that I always have a hard time with holidays and depression and PTSD symptoms. This year seems better so far. I am in a place I like. I won't be alone. People who traumatized me are far away and not in contact. So maybe things will be ok this year.
Another set of holidays has started, and I need to be aware of anniversary reactions. Awareness and talking about it to the people around me (I wouldn't recommend this unless they understand PTSD and are supportive) have helped reduce the worst of the reactions, as has staying away from my abusers, and unfortunately in my case, my family of origin, who are all mightily invested in not understanding my PTSD, which several of them find pretty threatening.
Why are holidays tough for people with PTSD? Well for one thing, getting in touch with positive feelings can be really difficult, and during the holidays there is a lot of pressure to do just that...be jolly in other words. For another, some holidays a reminders of anniversaries of traumatic events. Anniverseries are proven triggers for PTSD, and they sure were for me. I finally realized I needed to cut off contact with my family of origin -- a drastic step, not for everyone, BTW -- after calling on Thanksgiving and getting off the phone and having a severe flashback. I would have never put the two together because the content of the flashback was not my family, but my partner noticed that this happened regularly with contact with them and around holidays in particular. The "joke" in our family was "OK, we're going to have a good holiday or else, godammit" which was usually followed by some drunken craziness that turned ugly.
For me, controlling whom I am around, and scaling back expectations of jolliness both help a lot.
There is a bit more on how someone with PTSD can cope with the hiolidays in About.com's PTSD section.
Another set of holidays has started, and I need to be aware of anniversary reactions. Awareness and talking about it to the people around me (I wouldn't recommend this unless they understand PTSD and are supportive) have helped reduce the worst of the reactions, as has staying away from my abusers, and unfortunately in my case, my family of origin, who are all mightily invested in not understanding my PTSD, which several of them find pretty threatening.
Why are holidays tough for people with PTSD? Well for one thing, getting in touch with positive feelings can be really difficult, and during the holidays there is a lot of pressure to do just that...be jolly in other words. For another, some holidays a reminders of anniversaries of traumatic events. Anniverseries are proven triggers for PTSD, and they sure were for me. I finally realized I needed to cut off contact with my family of origin -- a drastic step, not for everyone, BTW -- after calling on Thanksgiving and getting off the phone and having a severe flashback. I would have never put the two together because the content of the flashback was not my family, but my partner noticed that this happened regularly with contact with them and around holidays in particular. The "joke" in our family was "OK, we're going to have a good holiday or else, godammit" which was usually followed by some drunken craziness that turned ugly.
For me, controlling whom I am around, and scaling back expectations of jolliness both help a lot.
There is a bit more on how someone with PTSD can cope with the hiolidays in About.com's PTSD section.
Monday, December 08, 2008
toxic relationships
Well, this started as a response to a bunch of comments but turned int my first post in a while, so thanks to the anonymous poster who made the comments referenced below.
anonymous said:
It is a slippery and seductive slope though. Most traumatized people hold it in til it blows up, which I did, or find constructive ways of dealing with it, which is what I try to do now. But when things blew up, I hurt those around me, the closer and more supportive they were, the more so. I realized this and it was a major incentive to get better so that I would not continue to have the stuff come out sideways and hurt the ones I love and who love me. I can see though, that had I just felt entitled to what I was doing rather than being appalled at it, it would then be but a short drive to perp-dom. So I have understanding, but no tolerance or forgiveness for abusers.
I am grateful for being able to break the cycle in my own life but it has come at great cost. My tendency was to buy into the perpetrator's version of the story and see myself as defective or the source of whatever problems they blamed on me. I promised myself when I was a little kid that I would not do to my kids what was done to me. My latest greatest abuser played into all my fears and insecurities (and ignorance about boundaries!) and after I got totally screwed over, the person convinced me that I was the abusive one (I hesitate to even write this for fear that whoever reads it will side with my abuser too!) by invoking what I had recognized as lies a previous toxic person had accused me of.
The latest, greatest one knew my feelings and insecurities about this because I told her all about them. Rather than realizing "wow, what a sick person, trying to justify her abusive behavior by flinging that stuff at me," I thought "well that's twice in a row...maybe I'm as blind as my parents were to their abusive behavior and just cannot see it." As a result, I decided not to have kids, because I took my childhood promise to myself seriously, and until I could see how it was I was being abusive I would do what it took to make sure I didn't pass it on.
This was my backwards sense of boundaries, where I thought they were to keep me walled off from doing harm from others rather than to protect myself from toxic abusive people. Years later, the person admitted I had not been anything close to abusive and that she made it up to justify her actions, but by then it was too late to start a family and the harm had been done. Because a life of traumatic relationships with everyone from parents to siblings to strangers to lovers, my belief in myself and my own feelings was nil. This is perhaps the greatest thing I have recovered in getting better from PTSD, my trust in myself as a basically good human being. I had to learn what most people learn as children, how to tell what's mine from what's not, and that has made all the difference.
anonymous said:
My story was a string of "moderately traumatic" events that left me feeling constantly on edge, ready for betrayal or chaos at any moment, completely in physical and emotional pain for years.Yes, I know that feeling well, that there is no safe place, the world might give way under foot at any moment. Finding ways of being and places, even imaginary ones, that are safe has been a big part of recovery for me. EMDR, which I have been thinking of writing a post on for a very long time but haven't gotten around to it, was helpful in doing this. I started out with an imaginary safe place, but also learned to trust that loving and supportive network of friends, which has been a challenge, but also tremendously rewarding as far as recovering goes.
anonymous wrote:I think awareness is a crucial first step. All the toxic people who were in my life surely had their own unaddressed trauma issues, I know this for a fact. I think perpetrators of abuse are traumatized people who feel entitled to take out revenge for their trauma on the world around them. Its their way of dealing with it, but it creates more trauma, passing it along to new people. Most traumatized people won't turn into abusers, but I bet 99.9% of perpetrators come from traumatized backgrounds. Its important to reiterate that this is not a fait accompli.
The supportive, loving people I have new relationships with don't deserve to deal with my insecurities from the manipulative, destructive people in my toxic past.
It is a slippery and seductive slope though. Most traumatized people hold it in til it blows up, which I did, or find constructive ways of dealing with it, which is what I try to do now. But when things blew up, I hurt those around me, the closer and more supportive they were, the more so. I realized this and it was a major incentive to get better so that I would not continue to have the stuff come out sideways and hurt the ones I love and who love me. I can see though, that had I just felt entitled to what I was doing rather than being appalled at it, it would then be but a short drive to perp-dom. So I have understanding, but no tolerance or forgiveness for abusers.
I am grateful for being able to break the cycle in my own life but it has come at great cost. My tendency was to buy into the perpetrator's version of the story and see myself as defective or the source of whatever problems they blamed on me. I promised myself when I was a little kid that I would not do to my kids what was done to me. My latest greatest abuser played into all my fears and insecurities (and ignorance about boundaries!) and after I got totally screwed over, the person convinced me that I was the abusive one (I hesitate to even write this for fear that whoever reads it will side with my abuser too!) by invoking what I had recognized as lies a previous toxic person had accused me of.
The latest, greatest one knew my feelings and insecurities about this because I told her all about them. Rather than realizing "wow, what a sick person, trying to justify her abusive behavior by flinging that stuff at me," I thought "well that's twice in a row...maybe I'm as blind as my parents were to their abusive behavior and just cannot see it." As a result, I decided not to have kids, because I took my childhood promise to myself seriously, and until I could see how it was I was being abusive I would do what it took to make sure I didn't pass it on.
This was my backwards sense of boundaries, where I thought they were to keep me walled off from doing harm from others rather than to protect myself from toxic abusive people. Years later, the person admitted I had not been anything close to abusive and that she made it up to justify her actions, but by then it was too late to start a family and the harm had been done. Because a life of traumatic relationships with everyone from parents to siblings to strangers to lovers, my belief in myself and my own feelings was nil. This is perhaps the greatest thing I have recovered in getting better from PTSD, my trust in myself as a basically good human being. I had to learn what most people learn as children, how to tell what's mine from what's not, and that has made all the difference.
Friday, August 03, 2007
a loving and supportive network of friends
In a comment to this post, anonymous wrote:
This is true, sharing with others who have been there, or who have other ways of understanding, is a tremendous help. If you look through the rest of the blog, you will see that my recovery has come a long way. I do have a lot of support but it is not formalized in a "group" right now and that is fine with me. What I do have is a loving and supportive network of friends and family of choice. Groups have served their purpose in my recovery, and I have done them in several different forms and may do more if I see an opportunity to get better by doing so.
But groups have also been fraught experiences for me. I've said enough elsewhere on 12 step approaches, but even in therapeutic groups, the nature of a lot of my trauma and its manifestations is often threatening to other male group members' sense of their own masculinity and they have often gone out of their way to not identify with me, distancing themselves as much as possible. From what I gather this is their issue, not mine, but I'm not there to have them play out their idea of what a man is by being hostile to me or undermining my sense of who I am and what I have been through. Its counterproductive and whatever the opposite of affirming is.
Here is what I do have though, a loving and supportive network of friends and family of choice. Most untraumatized people grow up with the family part and develop the friends part as a matter of course. I had to spend decades to learn how to do it, and it had to be with a new family of my own creation, not my family of origin. I was able to manage this by reaching out to people as people, not as alcoholics, drug addicts, or trauma survivors.. Some had some of these issues mind you, but I reached a point in my life where that no longer needed to be the primary basis for a relationship.
When the PTSD came on hard, I involuntarily had to lean on this network for all it was worth, and these friends and family were there for me and came through for me in ways that my family of origin and my old frineds, both as an active addict and as a person recovering within the frame of the twelve steps, did not. What I like to think is that I had gotten well enough to operate in the world of "earth people" -- normal folks, in other words -- as one of them, instead of identifying as an addict or a victim or a survivor first and foremost. One of the goals of recovery is to reintegrate into society as a useful member, and over the course of many years that is what I have done. I'm just a person among people. Like everyone, I've got my own unique history, and I act in some particular ways...for example, not drinking or drugging. But I am more or less just a regular person, as long as I take care of myself.
So anyway, when doing EMDR, I was having difficulty facing some of the trauma yet it was intruding in my life in the form of flashbacks, seizure-like things, hypervigilance, and a host of other things. We did what is called installing resources, and the resource that I came up with was to think of my firends as a literal net, holding me up and protecting me from falling when I could not do so myself. This resource or whatever has helped me immensely, and my earth-friends have come through for me again and again to the point where I don't have to rely on that net anymore. It is good to know it is there though. Actually, it kind of reminds me of the end of Harry Potter (spoiler alert) where he goes and faces the evil Voldemort alone sort of, but with the sort of mental company of supportive and loving friends and family that carry him through things he did not believe himself capable of. Even when the are not there they are there.
Perhaps that image...a literal net made up of supportive and loving friends and family...is one that will help others get through the trying times of PTSD like it did me. It was not a cure, and it did not make it easier or less painful, but it did enable me to get better and to face some pretty horrific stuff to know I wasn't -- and still am not -- in it alone.
also maybe you just haven't found the right support group yet. There's nothing like sharing with others who have endured similar experiences
This is true, sharing with others who have been there, or who have other ways of understanding, is a tremendous help. If you look through the rest of the blog, you will see that my recovery has come a long way. I do have a lot of support but it is not formalized in a "group" right now and that is fine with me. What I do have is a loving and supportive network of friends and family of choice. Groups have served their purpose in my recovery, and I have done them in several different forms and may do more if I see an opportunity to get better by doing so.
But groups have also been fraught experiences for me. I've said enough elsewhere on 12 step approaches, but even in therapeutic groups, the nature of a lot of my trauma and its manifestations is often threatening to other male group members' sense of their own masculinity and they have often gone out of their way to not identify with me, distancing themselves as much as possible. From what I gather this is their issue, not mine, but I'm not there to have them play out their idea of what a man is by being hostile to me or undermining my sense of who I am and what I have been through. Its counterproductive and whatever the opposite of affirming is.
Here is what I do have though, a loving and supportive network of friends and family of choice. Most untraumatized people grow up with the family part and develop the friends part as a matter of course. I had to spend decades to learn how to do it, and it had to be with a new family of my own creation, not my family of origin. I was able to manage this by reaching out to people as people, not as alcoholics, drug addicts, or trauma survivors.. Some had some of these issues mind you, but I reached a point in my life where that no longer needed to be the primary basis for a relationship.
When the PTSD came on hard, I involuntarily had to lean on this network for all it was worth, and these friends and family were there for me and came through for me in ways that my family of origin and my old frineds, both as an active addict and as a person recovering within the frame of the twelve steps, did not. What I like to think is that I had gotten well enough to operate in the world of "earth people" -- normal folks, in other words -- as one of them, instead of identifying as an addict or a victim or a survivor first and foremost. One of the goals of recovery is to reintegrate into society as a useful member, and over the course of many years that is what I have done. I'm just a person among people. Like everyone, I've got my own unique history, and I act in some particular ways...for example, not drinking or drugging. But I am more or less just a regular person, as long as I take care of myself.
So anyway, when doing EMDR, I was having difficulty facing some of the trauma yet it was intruding in my life in the form of flashbacks, seizure-like things, hypervigilance, and a host of other things. We did what is called installing resources, and the resource that I came up with was to think of my firends as a literal net, holding me up and protecting me from falling when I could not do so myself. This resource or whatever has helped me immensely, and my earth-friends have come through for me again and again to the point where I don't have to rely on that net anymore. It is good to know it is there though. Actually, it kind of reminds me of the end of Harry Potter (spoiler alert) where he goes and faces the evil Voldemort alone sort of, but with the sort of mental company of supportive and loving friends and family that carry him through things he did not believe himself capable of. Even when the are not there they are there.
Perhaps that image...a literal net made up of supportive and loving friends and family...is one that will help others get through the trying times of PTSD like it did me. It was not a cure, and it did not make it easier or less painful, but it did enable me to get better and to face some pretty horrific stuff to know I wasn't -- and still am not -- in it alone.
Monday, July 09, 2007
More on Type A & B addicts, 12 steps, and trauma
This was originally a response to some comments to "ptsd, AA, and different types of addicts" that grew too long, so it became a post. If you're curious, or want to try and convince me that my experience is wrong ;^), you can read more about my thoughts on PTSD and 12-step programs, the Christian basis of AA's "spirituality", and why I finally decided, after 17 years, to leave 12 step approaches, a difficult decision.
anonymous at 9:17 pm said:
Oh dear, the type A AAs have found us :)
Indeed, during the seventeen years I attended AA I did find some people who knew personally what PTSD was and they were a tremendous help. I also met a lot of crazy people who thought because their way of doing things wasn't working for me that I was doing something wrong...kind of like you are here.
If I remember right, and I do, the definition of insanity I learned in AA was "to keep repeating the same things over and expect different results." Working things through the aa way became exactly this form of insanity. At a certain point the aa way...steps, spirituality, constant meetings, the whole thing that I was doing with the best of them...just wasn't working, again and again, no matter how hard I tried or how close I hewed to the big book and the rooms.
Maybe I'll drink tomorrow. I saw plenty of twenty and thirty year AA-ers go out and drink too. I plan on staying clean and sober, as I value the life it has granted me immensely now that I have been able to stay clear of the craziness and harm I encountered in AA. If it works for you, well bless you, go forth....I probably would have sided with you the first 5, 10, or 15 years I was sober. I was wrong, and I humbly submit that you are too if you think AA is a one stop shop with the answers for everyone's recovery. Open yer mind a little, please.
the next anonymous said:
Just for clarity sake, that quote within the quote is from another commentator, not something I said, though I said something similar. I agree with the wife of the PTSD sufferer, and I am sure my own partner would too, as she endured a lot of agony in supporting me through the worst of my PTSD. I am forever grateful for that...It has taught me what love really is in many ways, so if you are truly supporting the recovery -- and recovery can happen -- of a PTSD-er, well then props to you! Its a huge task and takes a lot of love and understanding.
I was referring, and I think the commentator was too, to the sort of perverse tendency Type Bs have of trying to make amends to their perpetrators. In my case that included members of my family. They are the ones who are in denial, not me. And to live as they would have me would kill me, quite literally, and they would rather see that than see what they did. I just stay far away now, which is sad, but I have developed a wonderful family of choice and made a life for myself with room for all of who I am.
When I was in the worst stages of my addiction, and my recovery, I isolated like the commentator, and any pain I caused my perpetrators was probably from pangs of guilt more than anything else. I managed to keep everyone else away from me. I didn't have anyone because I didn't think I was worth anything to anyone, and created a self-fulfilling prophecy. When I stopped drinking and drugging, this left me real vulnerable to a particular type of misanthropic, often charlatan, type of person who can be found in or around any AA anywhere (I had home groups in four different cities over the years). Mind you, I'm not saying all AA is like that, just that all AA attracts such people, and they prey on people like I was. I've seen it many times and experienced it more than once before I wised up. These types took some people's lives to get what they wanted and almost got mine. Maybe someday I'll tell that story here, but I try to keep things general so more people can relate and also so as to remain anonymous myself.
Anyway, there was no wife or partner or significant other in my addiction because I thought I was too fucked up to be with anyone -- and I mostly was. Type Bs tend to blame themselves and take on the violence and anger of others as their own. This has ...ummm....negative effects on one's social skills and attractiveness to others. This is what I had to learn to reject and get angry at in order to get better, that the guilt and shame I felt were not mine, but belonged to others, and I would imagine that the commentator was trying to express something similar. I am sure if he or she had people in his or her life, they were affected as you say, but some of us clear everyone out for their own good to protect them from what awful people we have been taught by our perpetrators to believe that we are. Realizing that was a lie, and dumping the evil others had dumped on me in a safe and non-abusive way were key to getting to a place where I could let people in and have real relationships. I could have gone to AA for eternity and I would never have learned what I needed there.
anonymous at 9:17 pm said:
I believe that AA can help anyone to sobriety and a life worth living.
Oh dear, the type A AAs have found us :)
...There ARE AA members experienced with PTSD. Value your own recovery enough to seek them out.
Indeed, during the seventeen years I attended AA I did find some people who knew personally what PTSD was and they were a tremendous help. I also met a lot of crazy people who thought because their way of doing things wasn't working for me that I was doing something wrong...kind of like you are here.
If it were easy, EVERYONE would be sober and sane.a little condescension to help you endear yourself to us struggling misguided fools who don't do things your way....
... But sobriety and life are worth the effort. ...Find the people in AA who relate to who you are and where you've been. They are there.Translation for type Bs: You are doing it wrong if you are not doing it my (anonymous's) way -- oops, I mean, the AA way, and you're not sober or sane unless you go through AA. Thanks, but no thanks. Been there done that. That is what the post explains if you could see through the haze a bit. If you go by the slogans, I might suggest "live and let live" to the anonymous poster here...Things only got saner and better for me after I left AA. That seems to be threatening somehow, and of course the type A response is that I didn't do it right. Well excuse my French, but fuck that. I've now been sober over 22 years, the last five without AA. I got a lot out of AA and gave a lot back, but it became more harm than help, to the point that my worst days sober were as bad or worse than the low points of my addiction, which included homelessness, hallucinations, lot's of "lucky to have lived through that"s, and lots of drug induced emotional and physical injury, so I left. Mind you, I wouldn't trade those awfullest sober days in for the druggy ones -- I learned a lot of hard-bought things about people and --I can't think of anything else to call it...sickness just doesn't capture the true extent -- evil from the hard times of my sobriety.
If I remember right, and I do, the definition of insanity I learned in AA was "to keep repeating the same things over and expect different results." Working things through the aa way became exactly this form of insanity. At a certain point the aa way...steps, spirituality, constant meetings, the whole thing that I was doing with the best of them...just wasn't working, again and again, no matter how hard I tried or how close I hewed to the big book and the rooms.
Maybe I'll drink tomorrow. I saw plenty of twenty and thirty year AA-ers go out and drink too. I plan on staying clean and sober, as I value the life it has granted me immensely now that I have been able to stay clear of the craziness and harm I encountered in AA. If it works for you, well bless you, go forth....I probably would have sided with you the first 5, 10, or 15 years I was sober. I was wrong, and I humbly submit that you are too if you think AA is a one stop shop with the answers for everyone's recovery. Open yer mind a little, please.
the next anonymous said:
But to say that the person with PTSD is .."almost exclusively harming themselves..." is denial at its greatest. It takes courage to ask for help.
Just for clarity sake, that quote within the quote is from another commentator, not something I said, though I said something similar. I agree with the wife of the PTSD sufferer, and I am sure my own partner would too, as she endured a lot of agony in supporting me through the worst of my PTSD. I am forever grateful for that...It has taught me what love really is in many ways, so if you are truly supporting the recovery -- and recovery can happen -- of a PTSD-er, well then props to you! Its a huge task and takes a lot of love and understanding.
I was referring, and I think the commentator was too, to the sort of perverse tendency Type Bs have of trying to make amends to their perpetrators. In my case that included members of my family. They are the ones who are in denial, not me. And to live as they would have me would kill me, quite literally, and they would rather see that than see what they did. I just stay far away now, which is sad, but I have developed a wonderful family of choice and made a life for myself with room for all of who I am.
When I was in the worst stages of my addiction, and my recovery, I isolated like the commentator, and any pain I caused my perpetrators was probably from pangs of guilt more than anything else. I managed to keep everyone else away from me. I didn't have anyone because I didn't think I was worth anything to anyone, and created a self-fulfilling prophecy. When I stopped drinking and drugging, this left me real vulnerable to a particular type of misanthropic, often charlatan, type of person who can be found in or around any AA anywhere (I had home groups in four different cities over the years). Mind you, I'm not saying all AA is like that, just that all AA attracts such people, and they prey on people like I was. I've seen it many times and experienced it more than once before I wised up. These types took some people's lives to get what they wanted and almost got mine. Maybe someday I'll tell that story here, but I try to keep things general so more people can relate and also so as to remain anonymous myself.
Anyway, there was no wife or partner or significant other in my addiction because I thought I was too fucked up to be with anyone -- and I mostly was. Type Bs tend to blame themselves and take on the violence and anger of others as their own. This has ...ummm....negative effects on one's social skills and attractiveness to others. This is what I had to learn to reject and get angry at in order to get better, that the guilt and shame I felt were not mine, but belonged to others, and I would imagine that the commentator was trying to express something similar. I am sure if he or she had people in his or her life, they were affected as you say, but some of us clear everyone out for their own good to protect them from what awful people we have been taught by our perpetrators to believe that we are. Realizing that was a lie, and dumping the evil others had dumped on me in a safe and non-abusive way were key to getting to a place where I could let people in and have real relationships. I could have gone to AA for eternity and I would never have learned what I needed there.
Friday, December 22, 2006
Battle of the Effexor
Oh well, just checking in to update anyone who reads this. I more or less lost the battle of the Effexor. I had to go back on it, back up to 150 mg a day. This is a third of what I had been taking, so it is better, but the withdrawal just never went away while I was off it. I was miserable for a couple of months straight. Maybe it is the PTSD and depression returning without the meds, but I don't think it was. A lot of the stuff I felt was not related to the PTSD or depression, but after feeling like hell for a couple of months, I did get depressed. Anyway, my psych doc says we can try again down the road, going even slower on the tapering off, but I am feeling better again and in no hurry to go through that again, even if it means staying on the drug. Within two weeks of going back on it, I was better again.
Thursday, August 10, 2006
Joy of Meds: Effexor withdrawal (and oh yeah, Blogspot sucks)
Grrrr...I spent a whole morning on this post and blogspot went down for maintenance and ate the whole thing when I tried to post. When they came back up, I could only recover about half of it. Bastards.
First the good news: I have been doing pretty well lately, well enough to slowly come off some of the meds I take. All has gone fairly smoothly. I went from 140 mg/day of Geodon to 40mg. When I went lower symptoms came back, but getting rid of that and the Seroquel was like coming out of a daze. Friends noted a definite change in personality for the better, I seemed more alive and engaged, both subjectively and in the eyes of others. I reduced the trazodone (for sleep) to where I usually take half of a 25 mg tablet, occassionally taking the other half if my head won't shut down for the day and keeps spinning, a trauma response in some ways but also I think a symptom of a busy life. Wellbutrin went from 450 mg to 300, where I am leaving it for now because it seems to help more than some of the others, and Naltrexone, which I use to fight some of the addictive thinking and compulsivity involved with self-harm stuff, is next on the block but currently at 100mg and holding.
Everything has been more or less fine until the Effexor. If I had known what the withdrawal was, I don't think I would have gone on it even though I was pretty desparate for some relief at that time. I was on 450 mg/day, pretty much at the top end of what can safely be prescribed. My psychiatrist, who I work with on the meds, said withdrawal can be tough, but at first it was fine. I got down to 75 mg/day over the course of the better part of a year, knocking it down by 37.5 mg every few weeks. In going from 75 mg to 37.5 mg, I felt a little achey in the joints and feverish, but it passed after a few days.
Then when I made the last step down to zero, it made me really sick. I had brain shivers, or brain zaps -- sort of like an electric short circuit going bzzzzt in your head with the attendant feeling, or like the sound some modems make when they are connecting (more on other people's experiences of Effexor withdrawal are here and here). For about a week I slept for 16-20 hours a day, and I was very low energy when awake. Fortunately, I don't have fixed hours at work in the summer so I could do this. I ran a low grade fever, felt constant nausea, felt dizzy, like if I closed my eyes I would fall down a dark hole. This was different from the top-o-the-elevator, car-with-no-brakes feeling and or the world-dropping out from underfoot feeling: It was a visceral, bodily sensation of falling rather than a PTSD-induced feeling of unsafety, sort of vertigo without the heights. Also experienced headaches along with the feeling of having a wet blanket over my brain, sort of like in the cartoons where they show the little fizzy bubbles above people's heads. Consensus seems to be that the severity of the withdrawal symptoms is due in part to the short half life of Effexor (several hours as opposed to weeks for Prozac). To quote Iggy Pop, "no fun."
I did some research and found out what I experienced, along with a couple more, are pretty common withdrawal symptoms from Effexor. There are some suggestions for alleviating them, including tapering off the Effexor in smaller increments than 37.5 mg. This was my psychiatrist's suggestion, but I had already gone through the worst of it by then, and was not experiencing a re-onset of the symptoms the Effexor was supposed to treat (PTSD-related anxiety and depression) so I decided not to go this route as it seemed like it would only prolong the misery. Another option was to take a dose of Prozac, which has a longer half-life and masks the withdrawal. I didn't like Prozac at all when I took it, so I nixed this. A third was to take the anti-flu concoction Benadryl. I was a little skittish about this as a recovering addict, as twenty some-odd years ago when I was in rehab, they said to stay away from anything with antihistimines because of speed-like qualities. I tried it anyway and so far have not broken out on a crystal meth rampage :) -- and it seemed to help a little.
I seem to have made it through the worst of it, though still a bit dizzy and have the wet-blanket-over-the brain sensation a little. I think that about covers most of the stuff blogspot deleted.
First the good news: I have been doing pretty well lately, well enough to slowly come off some of the meds I take. All has gone fairly smoothly. I went from 140 mg/day of Geodon to 40mg. When I went lower symptoms came back, but getting rid of that and the Seroquel was like coming out of a daze. Friends noted a definite change in personality for the better, I seemed more alive and engaged, both subjectively and in the eyes of others. I reduced the trazodone (for sleep) to where I usually take half of a 25 mg tablet, occassionally taking the other half if my head won't shut down for the day and keeps spinning, a trauma response in some ways but also I think a symptom of a busy life. Wellbutrin went from 450 mg to 300, where I am leaving it for now because it seems to help more than some of the others, and Naltrexone, which I use to fight some of the addictive thinking and compulsivity involved with self-harm stuff, is next on the block but currently at 100mg and holding.
Everything has been more or less fine until the Effexor. If I had known what the withdrawal was, I don't think I would have gone on it even though I was pretty desparate for some relief at that time. I was on 450 mg/day, pretty much at the top end of what can safely be prescribed. My psychiatrist, who I work with on the meds, said withdrawal can be tough, but at first it was fine. I got down to 75 mg/day over the course of the better part of a year, knocking it down by 37.5 mg every few weeks. In going from 75 mg to 37.5 mg, I felt a little achey in the joints and feverish, but it passed after a few days.
Then when I made the last step down to zero, it made me really sick. I had brain shivers, or brain zaps -- sort of like an electric short circuit going bzzzzt in your head with the attendant feeling, or like the sound some modems make when they are connecting (more on other people's experiences of Effexor withdrawal are here and here). For about a week I slept for 16-20 hours a day, and I was very low energy when awake. Fortunately, I don't have fixed hours at work in the summer so I could do this. I ran a low grade fever, felt constant nausea, felt dizzy, like if I closed my eyes I would fall down a dark hole. This was different from the top-o-the-elevator, car-with-no-brakes feeling and or the world-dropping out from underfoot feeling: It was a visceral, bodily sensation of falling rather than a PTSD-induced feeling of unsafety, sort of vertigo without the heights. Also experienced headaches along with the feeling of having a wet blanket over my brain, sort of like in the cartoons where they show the little fizzy bubbles above people's heads. Consensus seems to be that the severity of the withdrawal symptoms is due in part to the short half life of Effexor (several hours as opposed to weeks for Prozac). To quote Iggy Pop, "no fun."
I did some research and found out what I experienced, along with a couple more, are pretty common withdrawal symptoms from Effexor. There are some suggestions for alleviating them, including tapering off the Effexor in smaller increments than 37.5 mg. This was my psychiatrist's suggestion, but I had already gone through the worst of it by then, and was not experiencing a re-onset of the symptoms the Effexor was supposed to treat (PTSD-related anxiety and depression) so I decided not to go this route as it seemed like it would only prolong the misery. Another option was to take a dose of Prozac, which has a longer half-life and masks the withdrawal. I didn't like Prozac at all when I took it, so I nixed this. A third was to take the anti-flu concoction Benadryl. I was a little skittish about this as a recovering addict, as twenty some-odd years ago when I was in rehab, they said to stay away from anything with antihistimines because of speed-like qualities. I tried it anyway and so far have not broken out on a crystal meth rampage :) -- and it seemed to help a little.
I seem to have made it through the worst of it, though still a bit dizzy and have the wet-blanket-over-the brain sensation a little. I think that about covers most of the stuff blogspot deleted.
Sunday, May 07, 2006
safety and the familiar
My partner is out of town and I've been staying up late catching up on work. I got caught up so I decided to do something different and go out. I realized walking down the street that I have become a creature of habit because of the PTSD. I have a safe set of things that I do and seldom step out of them, which is strange because I used to be quite adventurous.
I realized that as soon as I got out in an unfamiliar time with unfamiliar people (I went out by myself) in a setting I no longer frequent, I got anxious and unsettled. The old feeling of being worried that the next step will be right off the world into some crazy traumatic space came back, like I had a feeling that I wouldn't be welcome -- these spaces are for other people, not for me. I wasn't doing anything dangerous, just going to a club to listen to some music and take in the scene. I don't drink or anything, so no worries about things getting out of control either.
Even so, my breath grew short and I had the top of the elevator, hit the brakes when your not driving feeling pretty bad. I practiced a mini version of my grounding excercise and tried to get back into my body and settle down. I just focused on breathing. Once when I was in the same room as someoone awful from my past, a friend just whispered to me to breathe. I think I had a mini-epiphany. When I dissociate, the first thing to go is I stop taking in the normal amount of air. It is like going underwater.
Focusing on breathing helped a little and I began to feel a better. Being outside helped, and I walked in the wrong direction, thinking the club I wanted to go to was somewhere else (I guess I don't get out much) and I think just walking helped. I hadn't been out all day, and a lot of the time, I think if I didn't force myself, or my partner didn't, I'd just hide out at home and never go anywhere because it is safe.
So my adventure was fine. The music wasn't so great, but I did something out of my usual routine and not only got through it, but even enjoyed it a little and learned a bit about how sheltered I have made my life. That has been crucial to my getting better, the feeling of having a safe place, a home. When I was in treatment for the PTSD, we decided that safety was the first thing I needed, before I could work on anything else. It makes perfect sense. I think a lot of Americans feel entitled to it and take it for granted for the most part, but the world I lived in wasn't safe and I no longer trusted any situation when the PTSD got bad. Everything was dangerous. Going out a little while tonight made me realize how much I depend on the safety I have established in my life, the familiar, home. Maybe I can extend that space outward little by little and slowly move back into the rest of the world without such a sense of foreboding anymore if I am careful and go little by little.
I realized that as soon as I got out in an unfamiliar time with unfamiliar people (I went out by myself) in a setting I no longer frequent, I got anxious and unsettled. The old feeling of being worried that the next step will be right off the world into some crazy traumatic space came back, like I had a feeling that I wouldn't be welcome -- these spaces are for other people, not for me. I wasn't doing anything dangerous, just going to a club to listen to some music and take in the scene. I don't drink or anything, so no worries about things getting out of control either.
Even so, my breath grew short and I had the top of the elevator, hit the brakes when your not driving feeling pretty bad. I practiced a mini version of my grounding excercise and tried to get back into my body and settle down. I just focused on breathing. Once when I was in the same room as someoone awful from my past, a friend just whispered to me to breathe. I think I had a mini-epiphany. When I dissociate, the first thing to go is I stop taking in the normal amount of air. It is like going underwater.
Focusing on breathing helped a little and I began to feel a better. Being outside helped, and I walked in the wrong direction, thinking the club I wanted to go to was somewhere else (I guess I don't get out much) and I think just walking helped. I hadn't been out all day, and a lot of the time, I think if I didn't force myself, or my partner didn't, I'd just hide out at home and never go anywhere because it is safe.
So my adventure was fine. The music wasn't so great, but I did something out of my usual routine and not only got through it, but even enjoyed it a little and learned a bit about how sheltered I have made my life. That has been crucial to my getting better, the feeling of having a safe place, a home. When I was in treatment for the PTSD, we decided that safety was the first thing I needed, before I could work on anything else. It makes perfect sense. I think a lot of Americans feel entitled to it and take it for granted for the most part, but the world I lived in wasn't safe and I no longer trusted any situation when the PTSD got bad. Everything was dangerous. Going out a little while tonight made me realize how much I depend on the safety I have established in my life, the familiar, home. Maybe I can extend that space outward little by little and slowly move back into the rest of the world without such a sense of foreboding anymore if I am careful and go little by little.
Wednesday, March 15, 2006
Writing when things are ok for once
Hi,
I'm still really busy with work and it is still crazy, but I've kind of made my peace with it for now and have gotten back to my regular work, which I like, and am just trying to stay out of the s***storm (see "Still here, still have ptsd"). The Grateful Dead had a song with an appropriate line about getting through such things: "aint no luck/I learned to duck." And no, I don't think I could be considered a deadhead. At least not lately. But sometimes when I am in the right mood I can listen to some of their stuff and enjoy. I used to like them a lot more.
So my ptsd on a good day is pretty mild. I feel a little off from the meds I take (still slowly lowering the doses on them) but that is normal. My hands are not very steady. That is from both the ptsd and the meds I think. But I am in the present. I am not obsessed with the traumatic past. I'm in my body and able to function. That is pretty amazing considering how awful the symptoms used to be.
I guess I should be grateful for all this, and to some extent I am. But I am not grateful for the traumatic events that led to the destruction of a good chunk of my life. I don't get all yippy-skippy with joy when things are going well. I've seen the bottom of that drop out in an instant and always remain a little detached and skeptical. I guess that will never go away. Maybe its normal, a reality check. When the ptsd was bad, I'd get terrible lows. But I am not after equally ecstatic highs. I'd rather go along kinda steady and ok. That is good enough for me and more than I would have expected if you had asked me a couple of years ago.
I'm still really busy with work and it is still crazy, but I've kind of made my peace with it for now and have gotten back to my regular work, which I like, and am just trying to stay out of the s***storm (see "Still here, still have ptsd"). The Grateful Dead had a song with an appropriate line about getting through such things: "aint no luck/I learned to duck." And no, I don't think I could be considered a deadhead. At least not lately. But sometimes when I am in the right mood I can listen to some of their stuff and enjoy. I used to like them a lot more.
So my ptsd on a good day is pretty mild. I feel a little off from the meds I take (still slowly lowering the doses on them) but that is normal. My hands are not very steady. That is from both the ptsd and the meds I think. But I am in the present. I am not obsessed with the traumatic past. I'm in my body and able to function. That is pretty amazing considering how awful the symptoms used to be.
I guess I should be grateful for all this, and to some extent I am. But I am not grateful for the traumatic events that led to the destruction of a good chunk of my life. I don't get all yippy-skippy with joy when things are going well. I've seen the bottom of that drop out in an instant and always remain a little detached and skeptical. I guess that will never go away. Maybe its normal, a reality check. When the ptsd was bad, I'd get terrible lows. But I am not after equally ecstatic highs. I'd rather go along kinda steady and ok. That is good enough for me and more than I would have expected if you had asked me a couple of years ago.
Tuesday, February 28, 2006
Still here, still have ptsd
Hi, it has been a while since I last posted, but I am still here. Lately I have been very busy with work. I pointed out a BIG problem there recently, and instead of dealing with it, the folks responsible decided to blame the messenger, scapegoating me as a distraction from the real problem. Getting blamed for stuff that I didn't do is a real trigger for me, and I woke up today crawling out of my skin, which I haven't felt in a while. For a little bit, I even thought I might go into a flashback or have a little non-epileptic siezure again. I was as close to that as I have been in quite a while. I was dissociating and feeling very much out of my body because of the skin-crawling feeling and another feeling that I have described as being in an elevator that is hitting the top floor all day. Another way I have come to describe it will make sense to drivers maybe. The feeling is like when you are a passenger in the front seat and somebody doesn't hit the brakes at a time when you would. That moment of feeling out of control, of not being in charge of yourself as you hurtle through space and time, of hitting the imaginary brakes and finding them not there, but all day, not just for the moment: that is my most common everyday experience of ptsd at present, some days worse than others and today, with the skin crawling and dissociation, pretty bad at the start.
What to do? I have a nice view out the window of my home that I find centering and comforting, so I sat and looked at that while I had my morning cup of coffee before going to work (cutting back on caffeine helps a lot! I used to drink a lot more coffee and it is no help for ptsd at all). At work I did my grounding exercise a couple of times through then got started with my job. After a while of engaging with that (I quite like my work, even when things are rough like at present) I slowly settled back into my body and the jitters and skin-crawlies subsided. Now my main goal is to stay out of the path of the mudslingers at work to keep the triggering to a minimum.
I still have plans for more posts, just no time to write them. I want to put a sticky post at the top of the blog with a sort of guide to all the previous posts so people can find resources quickly. I also want to talk a little about a couple of therapeutic techniques I have been working with, EMDR and a related practice called DNMS. I have had mixed, but overall useful results with both, though I remain a tad skeptical, which is an old defense that results from previous betrayals by therapists. I have since learned how to protect myself better when choosing therapists.
What to do? I have a nice view out the window of my home that I find centering and comforting, so I sat and looked at that while I had my morning cup of coffee before going to work (cutting back on caffeine helps a lot! I used to drink a lot more coffee and it is no help for ptsd at all). At work I did my grounding exercise a couple of times through then got started with my job. After a while of engaging with that (I quite like my work, even when things are rough like at present) I slowly settled back into my body and the jitters and skin-crawlies subsided. Now my main goal is to stay out of the path of the mudslingers at work to keep the triggering to a minimum.
I still have plans for more posts, just no time to write them. I want to put a sticky post at the top of the blog with a sort of guide to all the previous posts so people can find resources quickly. I also want to talk a little about a couple of therapeutic techniques I have been working with, EMDR and a related practice called DNMS. I have had mixed, but overall useful results with both, though I remain a tad skeptical, which is an old defense that results from previous betrayals by therapists. I have since learned how to protect myself better when choosing therapists.
Saturday, December 24, 2005
Fell off the blogosphere....
Hi, If you have been looking for a post here this past week or so, it hasn't been happening. My partner is out of town on family stuff and I got really busy at work and the two combined have thrown me a little out of whack. Plus writing all that stuff about trauma, betrayal bonds and ptsd was sort of emotionally draining. I just kinda wanted to get that out and then didn't have anything to say for a while. So my clock is all messed up from the ptsd. Having a hard time sleeping...I get terrible nightmares as I am dropping off that then wake me up, then I start to fall back asleep and the same thing happens again. Oh well...this is probably my karmic payback for once telling someone with insomnia that nobody ever died from lack of sleep. Days have been ok though. I'm seldom alone so being by myself is a different way of occupying my world. I miss my partner bunches but I'm ok alone. With the nightmares its probably good she's not here as I often accidentally maul her (not hurtfully fortunately, just wakes her) in my sleep or wake her from yelling out in my dreams. This has been going on for several years now, but this past week has been the worst its been in a while. So I don't have any new info...there is more I want to write about...I got a couple of books that Holly posted on a while ago. I read one and will give a mini review, then look around the other blogs on ptsd and related stuff and see if I have anything to say! And Grrrr...I just found out one of my posts that has the links to all the other ones disappeared. OK, fixed it...If you have been looking for the first page of the betrayal bonds post its back up. So that's my little 4 AM stream-of-consciousness report from the front.
If I don't get to posting tomorrow, I hope you have a warm and safe holiday with people you love and that love you. G'night.
If I don't get to posting tomorrow, I hope you have a warm and safe holiday with people you love and that love you. G'night.
Sunday, December 11, 2005
grounding exercises for ptsd symptoms
Today I'll go over a grounding exercise I learned that was very helpful in managing ptsd symptoms. Its not a cure. At best, it makes the unbearable manageable. Sometimes when things were really bad it did not work well at all, but I did it anyway. The goal is to bring the ptsd sufferer back to the present by way of the senses, out of a flashback or intrusive memory. Anytime the symptoms of ptsd come on, whatever they are for you, is a good time to practice this exercise.
First look around and see five things present where you are, naming them -- out loud if possible (the naming out loud is supposed to help, but sometimes I would cheat and do it under my breath, too). Anyway, name specific things, in detail, as you see them. For example, I see a picture of my old dog with a wet nose; I see a black computer speaker; and so on. Then name five things you can hear, like the humming of a fan, cars passing by, the dishwasher running, and so forth. Then name five things you can feel. I had a hard time with this first, because I thought it refered to emotions, feelings, but that's not what I was supposed to be after. Its the sense of touch, so I feel jeans against the skin of my left thigh; I feel the soles of my feet on the floor, and so on. If you get stumped, its ok to repeat things, just concentrate on actually sensing them in the present. Then repeat the whole process for sight, hearing and touch four times, then three, then two, then one. You get extra bonus points if you become so wrapped up in your senses that you lose count. Generally, this would bring me back a little. I would still be miserable most of the time and in pain, but the memory part would subside and sometimes the worst symptoms of a flashback would recede.
[n.b.: updated 12/8/08 to replace broken links with new ones]
This isn't the only way to do it, just a very simple and easy to learn one that worked for me if you need it. About.com has some simple suggestions. The Mental Health Matters web site breaks it into three options: accept it and go through with it, learn to control it, or escape it. It is not always a matter of choice though. Their methods of coping are the same for whichever option you choose (or which chooese you!), including one that I tried during the worst of the flashbacks at the behest of counselors in the PTSD treatment center I was in. They had me hold two liter bottles of frozen water (ummm, I think they call it ice :), one in each hand to bring me back. I melted the ice in both and still didn't come back...they were about to send me off to the hospital, but I managed to get a handle on things after about a four hour flashback. Possibly the worst few hours of my life. Cold, the site explains, activates some reflexes that slow down the heart and exert a calming influence. Finally, you can read a more academic but still enlightening and useful treatment of coping techniques in the book Rebuilding Shattered Lives by James Chu.
First look around and see five things present where you are, naming them -- out loud if possible (the naming out loud is supposed to help, but sometimes I would cheat and do it under my breath, too). Anyway, name specific things, in detail, as you see them. For example, I see a picture of my old dog with a wet nose; I see a black computer speaker; and so on. Then name five things you can hear, like the humming of a fan, cars passing by, the dishwasher running, and so forth. Then name five things you can feel. I had a hard time with this first, because I thought it refered to emotions, feelings, but that's not what I was supposed to be after. Its the sense of touch, so I feel jeans against the skin of my left thigh; I feel the soles of my feet on the floor, and so on. If you get stumped, its ok to repeat things, just concentrate on actually sensing them in the present. Then repeat the whole process for sight, hearing and touch four times, then three, then two, then one. You get extra bonus points if you become so wrapped up in your senses that you lose count. Generally, this would bring me back a little. I would still be miserable most of the time and in pain, but the memory part would subside and sometimes the worst symptoms of a flashback would recede.
[n.b.: updated 12/8/08 to replace broken links with new ones]
This isn't the only way to do it, just a very simple and easy to learn one that worked for me if you need it. About.com has some simple suggestions. The Mental Health Matters web site breaks it into three options: accept it and go through with it, learn to control it, or escape it. It is not always a matter of choice though. Their methods of coping are the same for whichever option you choose (or which chooese you!), including one that I tried during the worst of the flashbacks at the behest of counselors in the PTSD treatment center I was in. They had me hold two liter bottles of frozen water (ummm, I think they call it ice :), one in each hand to bring me back. I melted the ice in both and still didn't come back...they were about to send me off to the hospital, but I managed to get a handle on things after about a four hour flashback. Possibly the worst few hours of my life. Cold, the site explains, activates some reflexes that slow down the heart and exert a calming influence. Finally, you can read a more academic but still enlightening and useful treatment of coping techniques in the book Rebuilding Shattered Lives by James Chu.
What's this betrayal stuff got to do with ptsd anyway?
I already wrote a little about betrayal in the posts on betrayal bonds and the effects of trauma over time. Carnes has a whole chapter explaining the power of betrayal. He write that "Common to all is a promise. Those who betray read their victims well. They appeal to the emptiness, the unfinished, and the wounds of others." Otherwise intelligent people set aside their intuitions because the promise is so attractive. "The starting point for all trauma survivors" he says, is a complete acceptance of the betrayal." From a distance this seems obvious, but it is hard to put into effect, and I still struggle with it. Abusive parents in denial, manipulative, self-serving people fostering traumatic relationships who want to feel good about themselves -- these types of abusers have an insidious way of getting into and undermining a person's very sense of self, making me doubt my own reality.
Carnes maps out "five main ways promises are used to betray:"
Carnes maps out "five main ways promises are used to betray:"
- Betrayal by seduction: "High warmth with low intention. . . . Relationships are manipulative and exploitive. Agreements are ill-defined, unclear, or tentative. Feelings are anxious and intense. Trust depends on exaggerated or unreal promises. Rewards are in the future and are often conditional. Risk is often one-sided." Most importantly, the seducer is deceptive about all these things in order to lure the other person into the relationship. People with family histories of abuse or trauma are particularly susceptible because they have never learned to protect or take care of themselves in important ways. A traumatized person's "picker" is often broken. Trauma shame creates doubt of one's intuitions. And there is a neediness that allows the person to ignore warning signs
- Betrayal by terror: If seduction fails, terror might work. Fear "deepens attachment" in ways that can be addictively intense, especially when coupled with seduction. Cults work this dual betrayal very well. They promise vulnerable people what they want, whether that be wealth, friends, spiritual growth, or whatever, but then withdraw support or even rip a person's life apart if they question things. This is the "love bomb" followed by the terror of abandonment. Often the result of betrayal by terror is guilt and shame on the part of the victim. According to Carnes, only seven percent of women who have been sexually assaulted, often by someone they know, report the offense. That is why Holly's work is so important.
- Betrayal by exploitation of power: Sexual harrassment often falls under this category, where women (or occasionally men) are in a position at work where to challenge the abuse would threaten their job because the abuser has more power. Incest relations are another example. They are "exploitation by people in power of those most vulnerable to them. If you're not equal in power, then by definition you're vulnerable. And that vulnerability is critical to trauma bonding."
- Betrayal by intimacy: In its strongest form this is emotional blackmail by someone you trust. Somebody does something wrong and the other person won't turn him in because she would be affected too. The cult abuse/'support community' that ripped up my life did this by trying to stop me from pursuing legal actions because of the ramifications it would have throughout the community.
- Betrayal by spirit: The most publicized version of this form of betrayal has been the sexual abuse scandals within the Catholic church over the past few years. Not limited by denomination, numerous televangelists have been undone by their sexual betrayals in the past few years too. Carnes thinks the reported cases are only the tip of the iceberg. He doesn't talk about it, but somewhat amorphous New Agey cultish groups also commit these spiritual betrayals. That is part of the story of how my life got ripped apart. And outside institutional religion, "spiritual" abusers often frame what they are doing as "God's will" or some such happy horseshit ("I like to think it happened for a reason"). Whatever the source, spiritual betrayal is doubly damaging, because beyond the abuse, the betrayal cuts off a primary resource for recovery, at least in the twelve step model. Such spiritual betrayals are part of why I don't do step programs any more. Maybe my belief in spirituality was just an illusion anyway. I might be better off, less deluded and vulnerable, without it.
Again, any combination, or even all of the above may be present.
Let me know if you read this by leaving a comment, ok?
All the quotations and information not otherwise attributed above comes from Patrick J. Carnes, The Betrayal Bond: Breaking Free of Exploitive Relationships (Deerfield Beach, Fla.: Health Communications Inc., 1997), 47-72.Saturday, December 10, 2005
The roots of ptsd: how trauma affects people over time
Patrick Carnes lists eight ways trauma affects people over time:
- trauma reaction
- trauma arousal
- trauma blocking
- trauma splitting
- trauma abstinence
- trauma shame
- trauma repetition
- trauma bonds
Most traumatized people will display some combination of these rather than just one.
The information above comes from Patrick J. Carnes, The Betrayal Bond: Breaking Free of Exploitive Relationships (Deerfield Beach, Fla.: Health Communications Inc., 1997).
Friday, December 09, 2005
betrayal bonds: trauma repitition
trauma repitition: This aspect of betrayal bonds involves reenactment or re-creation of prior traumas. Carnes calls it "living in the unremembered past." This can take several forms. Some get in abusive relationships that re-enact the original trauma. Sometimes it manifests itself in a compulsive behavior. Compulsive masturbation, for example, is usually a reenactment of a childhood trauma. Combined with shame, the person often becomes suicidal.
The key to understanding trauma repetition is that "in part, trauma repetition is an effort by the victim [or insome cases, the victim/perpetrator] to bring resolution to a traumatic memory. " It is a way of coping with old traumas, but instead of resolving the past, it creates new wounds, compounding and multiplying the problem. This is where complex ptsd comes from -- the continued repetition and compounding of some earlier trauma. For me that was childhood emotional, physical, and sexual abuse in a a family run by a raging alcoholic father and a classically co-dependent mother. It was a large family, and traumas inflicted on older siblings would then be reenacted on the younger ones.
Unfortunately, one form of trauma reenactment is "to victimize people in the same way they victimized you." While not all trauma repetition is perpetration (unless you want to count self-perpetration, which is sort of a contradiction of terms), all -- or nearly all -- perpetration is a repetition of some kind of trauma that the perpetrator also lived through. One perpetrator often victimizes many people, so the effects get spread widely. I reenacted things by somehow managing to always find relationships with abusive people, allowing both them and me to re-create traumatic experiences in a sick relationship.
According to Carnes (and I'm mostly but not exactly quoting), trauma repetition is characterized by repeated self-destructive (or destructive) behavior, usually of a repetition of some childhood trauma; reliving a story from the past, engaging in abusive relationships repeatedly (this was my pattern -- I thought abuse was normal, and couldn't even recognize it as such until I got in a non-abusive relationship and got help); repeating painful experiences, including specific behaviors, scenes, persons, and feelings; doing something to others that you experienced as an early life trauma.
All the quotations and information not otherwise attributed above comes from Patrick J. Carnes, The Betrayal Bond: Breaking Free of Exploitive Relationships (Deerfield Beach, Fla.: Health Communications Inc., 1997), 24-26.
The key to understanding trauma repetition is that "in part, trauma repetition is an effort by the victim [or insome cases, the victim/perpetrator] to bring resolution to a traumatic memory. " It is a way of coping with old traumas, but instead of resolving the past, it creates new wounds, compounding and multiplying the problem. This is where complex ptsd comes from -- the continued repetition and compounding of some earlier trauma. For me that was childhood emotional, physical, and sexual abuse in a a family run by a raging alcoholic father and a classically co-dependent mother. It was a large family, and traumas inflicted on older siblings would then be reenacted on the younger ones.
Unfortunately, one form of trauma reenactment is "to victimize people in the same way they victimized you." While not all trauma repetition is perpetration (unless you want to count self-perpetration, which is sort of a contradiction of terms), all -- or nearly all -- perpetration is a repetition of some kind of trauma that the perpetrator also lived through. One perpetrator often victimizes many people, so the effects get spread widely. I reenacted things by somehow managing to always find relationships with abusive people, allowing both them and me to re-create traumatic experiences in a sick relationship.
According to Carnes (and I'm mostly but not exactly quoting), trauma repetition is characterized by repeated self-destructive (or destructive) behavior, usually of a repetition of some childhood trauma; reliving a story from the past, engaging in abusive relationships repeatedly (this was my pattern -- I thought abuse was normal, and couldn't even recognize it as such until I got in a non-abusive relationship and got help); repeating painful experiences, including specific behaviors, scenes, persons, and feelings; doing something to others that you experienced as an early life trauma.
All the quotations and information not otherwise attributed above comes from Patrick J. Carnes, The Betrayal Bond: Breaking Free of Exploitive Relationships (Deerfield Beach, Fla.: Health Communications Inc., 1997), 24-26.
Thursday, December 08, 2005
betrayal bonds: more on trauma shame
ReallyNotImportant has made another comment that made me make a reply that made me think things through a little more so that I am going to make it its own post instead of a comment. Got all that? Nevermind. Just think of this as part two of the trauma shame post in the series about betrayal bonds.
Really said:
I've worked through a good deal of the shame issues I talk about in the post, very much along the lines you map out. One other thing I learned was that taking on other people's shame is a way of trying to gain control of the traumatic events. If its me, I have an explanation, and maybe even a solution: If its my fault, it might be under my control to change it somehow.
Of course, this is an illusion, one that gets reinforced by 12-step work, which encourages people to always look within for the source of our troubles: The only way it makes sense is if I am just somehow utterly broken goods towards whom such behavior is natural. This was reinforced by my abusers big time (who were, not coincidentally, all associated in one way or another with 12-step forms of recovery), and opting out of that illusion has been key to getting better. It is very tempting to revert to it though, in order to have a reason for things other than that people who I trusted and believed in were malicious and untrustworthy. Its a perverse sort of way of maintaining my old view of the world and denying the betrayals that took place.
When this self-shaming takes place now, I am usually aware enough to take a step back, separate myself from my abusers, and recognize that I am trying to make sense of things in a self-destructive way. The betrayals and abuses were real, and they are not mine. As you say, that then leaves me more freedom to deal with the strong emotions connected with the events, which though they may not be pleasant, they are at least somewhat healing.
I guess sometimes I still shy away from dealing with these emotions because when they all came out at once, it was totally overwhelming and destabilizing, so I need to have support and stability to let go of the shame. While it may be a dysfunctional and ultimately self-destructive way of coping, I needed to recognize that coping is what it was about, not some defect on my part, which of course would only reinforce the shame.
Really said:
I'm very conscious that you have been through a lot and I don't want to make matters worse.I guess from reading this stuff, I have been through a lot, but don't worry, as long as people are respectful and talking about their own experience, its fine. I didn't put this stuff up for sympathy or advice so much as to wonder if other people have been through the same sorts of things with their ptsd.
I've worked through a good deal of the shame issues I talk about in the post, very much along the lines you map out. One other thing I learned was that taking on other people's shame is a way of trying to gain control of the traumatic events. If its me, I have an explanation, and maybe even a solution: If its my fault, it might be under my control to change it somehow.
Of course, this is an illusion, one that gets reinforced by 12-step work, which encourages people to always look within for the source of our troubles: The only way it makes sense is if I am just somehow utterly broken goods towards whom such behavior is natural. This was reinforced by my abusers big time (who were, not coincidentally, all associated in one way or another with 12-step forms of recovery), and opting out of that illusion has been key to getting better. It is very tempting to revert to it though, in order to have a reason for things other than that people who I trusted and believed in were malicious and untrustworthy. Its a perverse sort of way of maintaining my old view of the world and denying the betrayals that took place.
When this self-shaming takes place now, I am usually aware enough to take a step back, separate myself from my abusers, and recognize that I am trying to make sense of things in a self-destructive way. The betrayals and abuses were real, and they are not mine. As you say, that then leaves me more freedom to deal with the strong emotions connected with the events, which though they may not be pleasant, they are at least somewhat healing.
I guess sometimes I still shy away from dealing with these emotions because when they all came out at once, it was totally overwhelming and destabilizing, so I need to have support and stability to let go of the shame. While it may be a dysfunctional and ultimately self-destructive way of coping, I needed to recognize that coping is what it was about, not some defect on my part, which of course would only reinforce the shame.
Tuesday, December 06, 2005
betrayal bonds: trauma shame
trauma shame: This aspect of betrayal bonds was huge for me. "when the victim feels defective, or even worse, at fault, there is traumatic shame. . . . Trauma can also leave a feeling of being defective or flawed. . . . People who become shame-based have core beliefs that they are unlovable, that if people knew what they were really like they would leave." Reading this was like a light going off. I still struggle with feeling defective. The last worst abusers in my life basically convinced me I was "a damaged self" that deserved being just discarded. I responded to these feelings by folding in on myself, sort of imploding. I got lost in compulsive use of internet porn to kill the pain and suicidal thinking. The porn (and the compulsive masturbation that went with it) made the shame worse, as in principle I think it is violent toward its subjects.
In the non-traumatic reltionship I had managed to get in, I was sure that if my partner found out about the Internet porn she would leave. She did find out...I finally told her when I thought I was going crazy. It really hurt her, but she immediately saw the connection with trauma that I couldn't and basically stayed with me, even as my mental health went completely to hell. That was a real lesson...she could see things in me that I could not and thought I was worth sticking around for. I figured I had better start to see some of those things in myself too, and I am slowly learning. Releasing myself from the shame and secrecy also undid the hold the compulsive acting out had on me. I started to deal with what had actually happened instead of my shame-distorted views of a whole series of traumatic events that stretched back to childhood.
Trauma shame tends to make some people overcompensate with unrealistic goals followed by more shame at failure in a classic binge/purge cycle. For people with ptsd, all experiences are tend to be processed by the brain as extremes, all black or white, with no grey. The loss of "the ability to operate in a balanced way...further adds to shameful feelings." Shame based people also have a tendency to re-create childhood traumas in adulthood. This was certainly my pattern anyway.
Trauma shame can result in obsessive self-hatred, worse than feeling unlovable or depressed, which can lead to self-destructive, even suicidal thinking and behavior. I made an attempt, but failed, and ended up in a loony bin for three weeks. Never got near addressing any of the causal issues and left basically promising myself not to make another attempt -- I had had my chance -- but still feeling suicidal. I felt suicidal for the next nine years, obsessively self hating and managing to stuff all my feelings, and the memory of traumatic events until everything just fell apart.
In the paragraph that follows, my comments are in parentheses, the rest is quoted from Carnes. Some signs of shame, according to Carnes, are: "feeling ashamed because you believe trauma experiences were your fault; loneliness and estrangement from others because of trauma experiences; self mutilating behaviors such as cutting or burning (when things were at their worst for me, I would literally rip chunks of flesh out of my stomach, the backs of my hands, and other places, I still have problems with self harm sometimess but not as bad); self destructive behaviors, enduring physical or emotional pain that most people would not accept, avoiding mistakes at any cost; feeling that you should be punished for the trauma event and being unable to forgive yourself (I experienced this as the result of cult abuse, where they ripped apart my life and then blamed me for it); feeling bad when something good happens (good things happening still make me anxious); having suicidal thoughts, threats, and attempts; possessing no ability to experience normal emotions such as sadness, anger, love and happiness (one thing I learned was not to trust anything. I couldn't feel anything but a ripping feeling in my stomach and a lump in my throat for a long time, then rage as I realized what had really happened. Slowly I've gotten some of my emotions back, but I have difficulty trusting happiness or anything good, even today -- its just asnother setup, I think); having a deep fear of depending on people (my partner said I tested her all the time, trying to figure out if she was dependable); feeling unworthy, unlovable, immoral, or sinful because of trauma experiences; perceiving others always as better, happier, and more competent (I saw this as a problem with envy. My abusers got off scot free with ripping up my life, and even seemed to benefit from it and it drove me mad for a while); having a dim outlook on the future; avoiding experiences that feel good, have no risk and that are self-nurturing. "
I would have never made the connection between trauma and shame without help, including Carnes' book. I had basically repressed memories of the traumatic events and just thought I was a crazy, no good mixed up, broken person, even as my life on the outside appeared to be very successful. Learning the connection between trauma and shame was a real life-saver for me, making sense of something that seemed utterly senseless to me.
Another thing I learned along the way is that there is a healthy role for shame. When someone does something bad, shame is an appropriate response. What happens in trauma bond situations is -- and let me just shift to first person here -- I took on my abusers' shame. They are the ones that should have felt shame, but in a trauma bond situation, perpetrators shuck it off onto their victims, compunding the abuse. Learning that this shame was somebody's, but not mine, was healing.
In the non-traumatic reltionship I had managed to get in, I was sure that if my partner found out about the Internet porn she would leave. She did find out...I finally told her when I thought I was going crazy. It really hurt her, but she immediately saw the connection with trauma that I couldn't and basically stayed with me, even as my mental health went completely to hell. That was a real lesson...she could see things in me that I could not and thought I was worth sticking around for. I figured I had better start to see some of those things in myself too, and I am slowly learning. Releasing myself from the shame and secrecy also undid the hold the compulsive acting out had on me. I started to deal with what had actually happened instead of my shame-distorted views of a whole series of traumatic events that stretched back to childhood.
Trauma shame tends to make some people overcompensate with unrealistic goals followed by more shame at failure in a classic binge/purge cycle. For people with ptsd, all experiences are tend to be processed by the brain as extremes, all black or white, with no grey. The loss of "the ability to operate in a balanced way...further adds to shameful feelings." Shame based people also have a tendency to re-create childhood traumas in adulthood. This was certainly my pattern anyway.
Trauma shame can result in obsessive self-hatred, worse than feeling unlovable or depressed, which can lead to self-destructive, even suicidal thinking and behavior. I made an attempt, but failed, and ended up in a loony bin for three weeks. Never got near addressing any of the causal issues and left basically promising myself not to make another attempt -- I had had my chance -- but still feeling suicidal. I felt suicidal for the next nine years, obsessively self hating and managing to stuff all my feelings, and the memory of traumatic events until everything just fell apart.
In the paragraph that follows, my comments are in parentheses, the rest is quoted from Carnes. Some signs of shame, according to Carnes, are: "feeling ashamed because you believe trauma experiences were your fault; loneliness and estrangement from others because of trauma experiences; self mutilating behaviors such as cutting or burning (when things were at their worst for me, I would literally rip chunks of flesh out of my stomach, the backs of my hands, and other places, I still have problems with self harm sometimess but not as bad); self destructive behaviors, enduring physical or emotional pain that most people would not accept, avoiding mistakes at any cost; feeling that you should be punished for the trauma event and being unable to forgive yourself (I experienced this as the result of cult abuse, where they ripped apart my life and then blamed me for it); feeling bad when something good happens (good things happening still make me anxious); having suicidal thoughts, threats, and attempts; possessing no ability to experience normal emotions such as sadness, anger, love and happiness (one thing I learned was not to trust anything. I couldn't feel anything but a ripping feeling in my stomach and a lump in my throat for a long time, then rage as I realized what had really happened. Slowly I've gotten some of my emotions back, but I have difficulty trusting happiness or anything good, even today -- its just asnother setup, I think); having a deep fear of depending on people (my partner said I tested her all the time, trying to figure out if she was dependable); feeling unworthy, unlovable, immoral, or sinful because of trauma experiences; perceiving others always as better, happier, and more competent (I saw this as a problem with envy. My abusers got off scot free with ripping up my life, and even seemed to benefit from it and it drove me mad for a while); having a dim outlook on the future; avoiding experiences that feel good, have no risk and that are self-nurturing. "
I would have never made the connection between trauma and shame without help, including Carnes' book. I had basically repressed memories of the traumatic events and just thought I was a crazy, no good mixed up, broken person, even as my life on the outside appeared to be very successful. Learning the connection between trauma and shame was a real life-saver for me, making sense of something that seemed utterly senseless to me.
Another thing I learned along the way is that there is a healthy role for shame. When someone does something bad, shame is an appropriate response. What happens in trauma bond situations is -- and let me just shift to first person here -- I took on my abusers' shame. They are the ones that should have felt shame, but in a trauma bond situation, perpetrators shuck it off onto their victims, compunding the abuse. Learning that this shame was somebody's, but not mine, was healing.
- A little more on trauma shame is here.
All the quotations and information not otherwise attributed above comes from Patrick J. Carnes, The Betrayal Bond: Breaking Free of Exploitive Relationships (Deerfield Beach, Fla.: Health Communications Inc., 1997), 21-24.
betrayal bonds: trauma abstinence
Trauma abstinence: The underlying problem causing this aspect of betrayal bonds is a core belief in one's unworthiness. Self denial is followed by out-of-control sprees. There is an aversion to good, healthy, or nurturing things for the self. Bulimia and anorexia would fall into this category. Often the trauma at the heart of this behavior is family neglect. Children become comfortable with it and become self-neglectful as adults. Coupled with "high arousal events such as domestic violence and sexual abuse and you have a neurochemical cocktail that is hard to beat. . . . the only way to control survival becomes to freeze...Ask nothing. Do nothing. Attract no attention. Yet fear mobilizes the body...In a constant state it can become addictive." Trauma abstinence "occurs especially around memories of success, high stress, shame, or anxiety. . . deprivation is driven by terror and fear" which have powerful effects on the brain.
Carnes talks about trauma abstinence in conjunction with addiction, saying the two go hand in hand. I experienced this as getting one area of my life under control only to see another part go out of control. To me its like that game in the amusement park where you swat at gophers as they pop up out of holes. A soon as you get one, two more pop up and they are never under control...which of course is the "rush" of the game.
What are some of the behaviors associated with trauma abstinence? Carnes says (and I'm mostly quoting him with my own thoughts thrown in): Compulsive debtors, people who deny basic needs like groceries, avoid any sexual pleasure or feel extreme remorse over sexual activity, hoard money and avoid spending it on legitimate needs, work in under-achieving jobs and make unwarranted sacrifices at them, spoil success opportunities (this is the one I relate to most), have periods of no interest in eating (for a while when things were bad I didn't eat hardly at all. I'd eat a little because my partner would make me. Lost 40 pounds. Meds put it all back on...drat.) attempt diets repeatedly, see comfort, luxuries, and play activities as frivolous, skip vacations to work on unrewarding tasks, avoid normal activities because of fears (hmmm...I might still do this some...I tend to hide out when left to my own devices), have difficulty with play (I don't have a problem with this:), be underemployed, vomit food or use diuretics to avoid weight gain.
I think where it shows up in my life is in everyday neglect...not wanting to shower (but I do...so don't worry about the blog smelling bad:), not bothering to eat or eating badly when my partner isn't around, that type of thing. I may have it around some sexual stuff, but its hard to sort all that out. Sex is a real trigger for my ptsd. My partner is also a survivor, and since my ptsd messed up our sex life, we tend to avoid having sex on any regular basis. I don't know if its abstinence or just that freaking out isn't really fun or pleasurable for either of us. I'll talk more about that some other time.
All the quotations and information not otherwise attributed above comes from Patrick J. Carnes, The Betrayal Bond: Breaking Free of Exploitive Relationships (Deerfield Beach, Fla.: Health Communications Inc., 1997), 17-21.
Carnes talks about trauma abstinence in conjunction with addiction, saying the two go hand in hand. I experienced this as getting one area of my life under control only to see another part go out of control. To me its like that game in the amusement park where you swat at gophers as they pop up out of holes. A soon as you get one, two more pop up and they are never under control...which of course is the "rush" of the game.
What are some of the behaviors associated with trauma abstinence? Carnes says (and I'm mostly quoting him with my own thoughts thrown in): Compulsive debtors, people who deny basic needs like groceries, avoid any sexual pleasure or feel extreme remorse over sexual activity, hoard money and avoid spending it on legitimate needs, work in under-achieving jobs and make unwarranted sacrifices at them, spoil success opportunities (this is the one I relate to most), have periods of no interest in eating (for a while when things were bad I didn't eat hardly at all. I'd eat a little because my partner would make me. Lost 40 pounds. Meds put it all back on...drat.) attempt diets repeatedly, see comfort, luxuries, and play activities as frivolous, skip vacations to work on unrewarding tasks, avoid normal activities because of fears (hmmm...I might still do this some...I tend to hide out when left to my own devices), have difficulty with play (I don't have a problem with this:), be underemployed, vomit food or use diuretics to avoid weight gain.
I think where it shows up in my life is in everyday neglect...not wanting to shower (but I do...so don't worry about the blog smelling bad:), not bothering to eat or eating badly when my partner isn't around, that type of thing. I may have it around some sexual stuff, but its hard to sort all that out. Sex is a real trigger for my ptsd. My partner is also a survivor, and since my ptsd messed up our sex life, we tend to avoid having sex on any regular basis. I don't know if its abstinence or just that freaking out isn't really fun or pleasurable for either of us. I'll talk more about that some other time.
All the quotations and information not otherwise attributed above comes from Patrick J. Carnes, The Betrayal Bond: Breaking Free of Exploitive Relationships (Deerfield Beach, Fla.: Health Communications Inc., 1997), 17-21.
Saturday, December 03, 2005
betrayal bonds: trauma splitting
trauma splitting: Carnes defines trauma splitting as the aspect of betrayal bonds that ignores "traumatic realities by splitting off the experiences and not integrating them into personality or daily life." It is creating another reality and going to it during traumatic events. When this coping style becomes a pattern of dealing with everyday life it becomes a problem instead of a solution.
It can take the form of amnesia. I had no memory of what happened at the time when some of the trauma and betrayal stuff happened for years afterward. When it came back I was overwhelmed with flashbacks and stuff, so splitting was an attempt to protect myself from that I guess. I would not be able to remember what day it was or how long ago the flashbacks were either, so I guess that was dissociation too. It can also take the form of splitting from one's body, maybe flying around the room, or detaching and looking down on the scene from above. Sometimes different personalities form during splitting. This gets called multiple personality disorder or dissociative identity disorder (DID).
Addictions often have a component of splitting. Addictive behavior, whether in the consumption of a drug, obsessive or compulsive sex, gambling, or even religious or artistic preoccupation, can be a form of splitting, of creating a fantasy reality that ignores the real state of things. Lots of addicts talk about a "Jekyll and Hyde" experience of having one set of values and behaviors they believe in and another personality, the out of control addict, that seems intent on destroying these.
Some signs of dissociation are spacing out as a response to painful memories, confusion and forgetfulness because of preoccupation, resorting to a fantasy world when things get tough, feeling separate from the body as the result of a flashback, amnesia, preoccupation, having compartments to your life others don't know about, living a double life, obsessing around addictive behavior, losing yourself in romantic fantasies, or using marijuana or psychedelic drugs. All of us space out sometimes, the problem is when it becomes a way of life.
It can take the form of amnesia. I had no memory of what happened at the time when some of the trauma and betrayal stuff happened for years afterward. When it came back I was overwhelmed with flashbacks and stuff, so splitting was an attempt to protect myself from that I guess. I would not be able to remember what day it was or how long ago the flashbacks were either, so I guess that was dissociation too. It can also take the form of splitting from one's body, maybe flying around the room, or detaching and looking down on the scene from above. Sometimes different personalities form during splitting. This gets called multiple personality disorder or dissociative identity disorder (DID).
Addictions often have a component of splitting. Addictive behavior, whether in the consumption of a drug, obsessive or compulsive sex, gambling, or even religious or artistic preoccupation, can be a form of splitting, of creating a fantasy reality that ignores the real state of things. Lots of addicts talk about a "Jekyll and Hyde" experience of having one set of values and behaviors they believe in and another personality, the out of control addict, that seems intent on destroying these.
Some signs of dissociation are spacing out as a response to painful memories, confusion and forgetfulness because of preoccupation, resorting to a fantasy world when things get tough, feeling separate from the body as the result of a flashback, amnesia, preoccupation, having compartments to your life others don't know about, living a double life, obsessing around addictive behavior, losing yourself in romantic fantasies, or using marijuana or psychedelic drugs. All of us space out sometimes, the problem is when it becomes a way of life.
All the quotations and information not otherwise attributed above comes from Patrick J. Carnes, The Betrayal Bond: Breaking Free of Exploitive Relationships (Deerfield Beach, Fla.: Health Communications Inc., 1997), 14-17.
betrayal bonds: trauma blocking
trauma blocking: This aspect of betrayal bonds is about numbing out in all its various forms. Alcohol and drugs are often used. I used compulsive masturbation and internet porn to kill memories and pain. Others eat compulsively, excessive sleep, watch mind-numbing TV to waste time, become workaholics, maybe bingeing occasionally on any of these behaviors. Often times this is trouble for recovering alcoholics: When they stop the drug, the pain rushes in and they go back or switch to other addictions. The behaviors reduce anxiety, but have their own set of problems.
Often trauma blocking alternates with trauma arousal. A person will engage in high-risk, high shame behavior such as compulsive sexual activity followed by numbing out with food alcohol or something to numb out the shame. Another example would be an addict alternating between ice and alcohol, the former for arousal and the latter to numb out afterwards. When I was using, I used to do speed with alcohol and depressants in order to be "normal!" Not quite.
Often trauma blocking alternates with trauma arousal. A person will engage in high-risk, high shame behavior such as compulsive sexual activity followed by numbing out with food alcohol or something to numb out the shame. Another example would be an addict alternating between ice and alcohol, the former for arousal and the latter to numb out afterwards. When I was using, I used to do speed with alcohol and depressants in order to be "normal!" Not quite.
All the quotations and information not otherwise attributed above comes from Patrick J. Carnes, The Betrayal Bond: Breaking Free of Exploitive Relationships (Deerfield Beach, Fla.: Health Communications Inc., 1997), 12-14.
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