Living with CPTSD: My Journey Through Complex Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder

I live with complex post-traumatic stress disorder, often referred to as CPTSD. Alongside this condition, mental health professionals have diagnosed me with other issues, such as bipolar II, depression, generalized anxiety disorder, and ADHD. While all of these affect my life, CPTSD is the most debilitating, and I often wonder if it contributes to my other challenges. The others respond well to medication; I take a few pills, and I feel better almost instantly. However, CPTSD is a persistent shadow that never really goes away. It impacts every aspect of my life, influencing everything from my hairstyle to my dietary choices to how I parent. It’s a constant presence that I can’t seem to shake.

I’m putting in a lot of effort to manage it. I have access to professional help that I can reach out to whenever I need, even on a Saturday morning. But the path to recovery is daunting. It requires hard work and a complete transformation of my life. I am in the process of rewriting my own story.

Understanding PTSD vs. CPTSD

Most people are familiar with PTSD, often associated with veterans or survivors of kidnapping who have experienced a singular traumatic event. According to Healthline, symptoms include flashbacks, avoidance of reminders of the trauma, shifts in beliefs or feelings, hyperarousal, and physical symptoms like nausea.

CPTSD differs in that it arises from a series of prolonged traumatic experiences, such as ongoing childhood abuse, living in a war zone, or enduring an abusive relationship. In addition to the typical PTSD symptoms, those with CPTSD may experience uncontrollable emotions, feelings of guilt or shame, relationship difficulties, and a loss of previously held beliefs. I resonate with every single symptom.

What Led to My CPTSD

My CPTSD stems from years of neglect by my narcissistic mother, starting from birth and continuing until I turned forty. Yes, you read that right—birth. You might be skeptical, but let me explain. I was nameless for a week because my mother was convinced I would be a boy and hadn’t selected a girl’s name. When she finally chose one, she picked “Jane,” after her mother’s middle name, as if to avoid naming me after my father’s family. In a way, my name was chosen out of spite.

Throughout my childhood, I was the scapegoat for my mother’s insecurities, a common pattern in narcissistic families. My brother, named after her just fourteen months after me, received all the praise and attention. His hair flowed long while mine was chopped off. I was pushed to the backseat in life and constantly berated for my shortcomings. Any achievements I had went unnoticed, while my brother was celebrated. I was only ever complimented on my thinness, and my mental health struggles were ignored. My brother received a new car, while I was given clunkers that frequently broke down.

But I digress; the point is clear.

Approaches to Treating CPTSD

CPTSD is often addressed through talk therapy. While some opt for cognitive behavioral therapy to help reframe negative thoughts, I am pursuing trauma therapy. This can take various forms, but my therapist employs a technique known as imaginal exposure. This involves discussing my trauma in detail and exploring the thoughts and beliefs that arise from those experiences. For instance, I’ve battled anorexia, which resurfaced a few years ago. While I have sought treatment, I still face challenges with disordered eating.

Three years ago, my mother relocated to my state, stirring up old feelings.

I never saw myself as beautiful, but I was slender.

During family dinners, my brother and I would be unexpectedly criticized for our laziness, a stark contrast to the usual family dynamics. Now, whenever I’m at dinner with my in-laws, I find myself instinctively clearing the table, starting with my father-in-law’s plate.

My traumas run deep, influencing my likes and dislikes, often shaped by a desire to gain the affection I never received from my mother. My therapist and I are working to uncover these connections, which can be overwhelming. Unexpected realizations hit me hard, such as why I despise certain foods or why I have difficulty trusting women. I realize these coping mechanisms were formed to protect myself and my children from repeating my past.

My Healing Process

Currently, I have distanced myself from my mother. What began as a minor disagreement escalated into a profound realization of the impact of my past.

With my therapist’s guidance, I’m learning to make choices for myself. I’ve changed my hairstyle, considered a name change, and am experimenting with new foods. Today, I plan to discard the old jeans that I use to gauge my weight—jeans that I held onto from a time when I told my mother I was a size 2.

I initially believed that trauma therapy would involve grand gestures, but it’s often the small, everyday moments that hold the most weight. I’ve begun to reclaim my identity. I used to dislike punk music because it was my mother’s preference, but now I’m finding joy in artists like Blink-182 and The Sex Pistols. I’ve even started buying new dishes, moving away from Fiestaware, which I only liked because my mother did.

I’m committed to creating a full and authentic life. While I cannot erase my trauma, it has shaped me into a more compassionate and understanding person. Sharing my story may help someone else feel less isolated, and that makes it all worthwhile. I won’t erase my trauma because it is part of who I am. I have learned to endure it, and I am determined to learn how to live beyond it.

This article was originally published on Aug. 5, 2021.

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Summary:

I navigate life with complex post-traumatic stress disorder (CPTSD), stemming from years of childhood neglect by my mother. My journey through recovery involves therapy and the challenging process of reclaiming my identity. I face ongoing struggles but am determined to create an authentic life beyond my trauma.