Maybe you’ve never called it trauma.
- You tell yourself, “Nothing that bad happened.”
- You function well enough.
- You get things done.
- You show up for people.
- You’ve even survived things others never knew about.
But deep down, you’re exhausted.
You feel like you’re always on edge or shutting down.
Relationships are hard, boundaries feel confusing, and part of you keeps wondering: Why do I feel this way when nothing is technically “wrong”?
This is the quiet, invisible shape Complex PTSD can take.
C-PTSD doesn’t always come from a single event. It often grows slowly, in the background — through chronic emotional neglect, growing up in a chaotic home, feeling like love had to be earned, or being the “strong one” far too young. It can come from always being on alert, constantly performing, or never feeling truly safe in your body or relationships.
Below are nine gentle signs you might be living with C-PTSD — not as a label, but as a lens. A way to better understand your nervous system, your patterns, and why it’s not your fault that healing has felt so hard.
1. You feel “too much” and “not enough”—at the same time.
You’re highly sensitive. Emotionally aware. And yet, you carry a deep shame around your feelings. You second-guess your reactions, apologize for your needs, and feel like you take up too much space — while also fearing you’re invisible.
This inner conflict is common in survivors of emotional trauma. You may have had to shrink or overachieve to stay safe. Now, both feel like the only way to belong.
2. You live in survival mode, even when life is “fine.”
You have a good job. You’re doing okay. But your body never really relaxes. You feel tight in your chest, clenched in your jaw, or like you’re always bracing for something. You’re not being dramatic — your nervous system has learned to scan for danger, because danger once felt constant.
3. You struggle with emotional flashbacks.
It’s not a visual memory — but suddenly, you’re overwhelmed. Ashamed, panicked, numb, or furious. You don’t know why, and you judge yourself for it. This is often a flashback — your body reliving a state it once needed to survive, even if your mind doesn’t “remember” why.
4. You can’t trust yourself (but you long to).
You overthink everything. You ask others what they would do. You feel paralyzed by decisions — even small ones. If you grew up being gaslit, criticized, or ignored, this makes sense. Your inner compass was distorted to match someone else’s survival map.
5. You confuse people-pleasing with love.
You pride yourself on being reliable, kind, there for everyone. But underneath is a fear: If I don’t show up perfectly, will they leave? Will I still be worthy? People-pleasing isn’t your personality — it’s an adaptive response. A strategy that once kept you safe.
6. You feel numb or dissociated more than you realize.
You go through the motions. You smile. You get things done. But you feel disconnected — from your body, your joy, your hunger, your pain. This isn’t laziness or lack of motivation. This is how your body protected you from overwhelm.
7. You’re deeply self-critical, even when you “know better.”
No matter how much inner work you’ve done, a voice still whispers: You’re failing. You should be over this. You’re too sensitive. That voice is not the truth of who you are — it’s a protective part, shaped by years of internalized shame.
8. You long for intimacy — but it terrifies you.
You crave deep connection. But you also shut down, avoid conflict, or panic when someone gets too close. This push-pull pattern often points to relational trauma, where love wasn’t safe or consistent. You’re not broken. You just haven’t had the kind of safety your system is still waiting for.
9. You feel like there’s something wrong with you — but you can’t name it.
You keep asking: Why am I like this? You carry an unspoken grief, a longing for a childhood you didn’t get to have, a quiet fear that you’ll pass this pain on. These aren’t signs of dysfunction. They’re signs of awareness. Of your deep capacity to heal.
Why This Happens
Complex PTSD happens in the context of relationships. When the people who were supposed to protect, attune, and validate you couldn’t—or wouldn’t. When love felt conditional. When emotions were shamed or ignored.
Your nervous system adapted.
You became hyperaware, high-achieving, self-sacrificing, or emotionally shut down—not because you’re flawed, but because your system did exactly what it needed to survive.
But surviving isn’t the same as living.
And your body knows that.
It’s why the symptoms you’ve worked so hard to hide keep bubbling up. Not to torment you, but to finally be seen.
What Healing Can Look Like
Healing C-PTSD isn’t about “fixing” yourself. It’s about slowly learning to feel safe — in your body, your relationships, your truth.
That might mean:
✨ Building trust with parts of you that have been exiled or silenced
✨ Releasing shame from your body through movement, music, or breath
✨ Reclaiming your voice, boundaries, and emotional needs
✨ Learning to live from your self — not your survival responses
This work is tender. It’s not linear. And you don’t have to do it alone.
If This Resonates
I work with women like you every day — creative, sensitive, capable women who have done so much work already, but still carry the invisible scars of growing up unseen, unheard, or too responsible too soon.
In our work together, we move at your pace.
We use the language of music, imagery, and parts work to gently untangle the past and reconnect you to your truth.
We don’t just talk about your trauma—we create space to feel, release, and transform it.
If you’re ready to feel more at home in your body and more whole in your story, I’d be honored to walk with you.
Warmly,
Wen
