Most People Don’t Know They Have Complex PTSD
Do you have complex PTSD?
I was already working with a trauma practitioner when I found out I did. Once we’d gone through the initial assessment period I was told ‘you have complex PTSD as a result of your upbringing’. I was torn in two. Part of me was shocked; how did I not know this? Does this mean everyone I love is some kind of monster!? Surely not.
The other part of me felt relieved. I wasn’t failing, I was struggling, and doing well to have gotten so far whilst living with cPTSD. I felt something in me settle. A part of me and my struggles had been seen by a sympathetic human being who got me, validated me, and I began to feel less ashamed for not being more successful in my relationships.
As is typical of me, I needed so many answers. I’d already spent time delving into attachment theory – how we learn to do relationships with others from birth. How we’re wired to connect, as patterned by our caregivers’ response to our needs. Are we anxious? Avoidant? Deeply needy whilst being terrified simultaneously? All three? Maybe we’re generally a cool customer until we’re stressed, and one of the above is a habit we just can’t get out of.
The really common stuff that’s talked about a lot at the moment is around people pleasing. Saying yes when really you feel no. Laughing or playing nice whilst someone’s crossing a boundary. Putting everyone else before yourself. Never feeling deeply met or loved in your relationships (of any relationship type – friends, partners, etc.). And you don’t have to have come from a terrible home for this to be the case. You could come from a super loving home, full of joy and fun, but perhaps your parents just weren’t always attuned to your needs. Perhaps they would get emotionally dysregulated and it became your job to step in or hide.
Complex PTSD is so much more difficult to pinpoint. It’s all the little things that add up. It’s not often one specific thing. We might be able to identify that when a parent got intoxicated there was more likely to be shouting or worse, but there are typically far more subtle things that amount to cPTSD than just the obvious.
Simple PTSD is pretty much ‘this specific thing happened and now when faced with the same topic again, I disappear/freak out/defend myself’. We know where it came from.
Complex PTSD is the culmination of thousands of little things. Being told not to cry. People reacting negatively to your emotions. Only getting praise about things that others deem worthy, rather than others celebrating your joy and achievement because it means something to you. To survive you began to shape yourself in ways that helped you to survive the people around you, because it didn’t feel safe enough to be fully yourself.
And I’ll let you into a little secret; there is no hierarchy of trauma. If your brain developed trauma responses to things that happened in your life, then it did. It doesn’t have to make sense. Some of the things I’ve heard in a trauma session would make your eyebrows turn white, but it’s frequently followed up by sentiments like ‘could have been worse, though’. There are always people who’ve ‘had it worse’ than us, but that kind of rationalisation doesn’t mean a damn thing. I’m not suggesting you take this on as a new kind of identity, but dismissing it will only exacerbate your relational challenges.
And finding out you have cPTSD is only the beginning. It’s not just another awful thing to know. It’s the starting point for beginning to heal your brain, your relationships, your nervous system, anxiety, depression, and a whole host of other things. And it can be done sensitively, gently, without triggering, without judgement, and with help from someone who can guide you through the big stuff and take the weight off your shoulders.
If you’re ready to know, take a breath and take this questionnaire below. Knowledge is power and you have handled far bigger things than this!