A support community for BIPoC (Black, Indigenous, and people of color) folks affected by C-PTSD

hi everyone, this is a running thread for community-generated resources.

comment your resource below and it will be added to this list! the categories below are just a starting point; feel free to start new categories.

(and, once i get around to making a welcome bot, it will point to this thread as the definitive resource list for our community.)

^{last updated 2/28/21}

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books, articles, and texts

[ nonfiction ] Menakem, Resmaa. My Grandmother's Hands: Racialized Trauma and the Pathway to Mending Our Hearts and Bodies.

[ article ] Foo, Stephanie. My PTSD can be a weight. But in this pandemic, it feels like a superpower.

[ novel ] Hernandez, Jaime and Beto. Love and Rockets

[ fiction ] Kinkaid, Jamaica. Lucy.

[ fiction ] Orange, Tommy. There, There.

[ comic ] Spiegelman, Art. Maus.

[ comics ] Yang, Gene Luen. American Born Chinese.

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visual art

Alma Thomas

Lois Mailou Jones

Edgar Arcenaux

Isamu Noguchi

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videos and podcasts

Kevin Jerome Everson. Filmmaker

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digital spaces

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therapeutic modalities

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other

What's been on your mind this week? Feel free to spill it all here!

If you're new here, please check out the rules in the sidebar. If you've been here a while, we appreciate you and hope this space is as supportive as it can be!

At least it feels that way. Systemic issues and how ingrained things are in our psyches

This was 2-3 years ago but it still hurts, I was numb to it for a long time.

She threatened my little brother too who was 2 yr at the time.

I grew up as a black girl in an environment with a low black population (I still live in an environment with a low black population.) I struggled with body dysmorphia throughout 9th and 10th grade because my peers called me below average or ugly. My 9th grade crush had called me a 5/10, and then a 4/10. It was a very hard time for me.

At some point after we returned from quarantine, I remember glancing around one day in Economics class as a senior and thinking to myself, “Oh. Most of my peers are average, not models.” As someone who grew up thinking whiteness was particularly attractive, I also realized in high school that most white people are average as well - even, in my opinion, celebrities who are propped up as particularly attractive. I remember realizing that I wasn’t any more or less attractive than my peers, and had experienced racism.

I actually think about it sometimes even now, as a 19-year old, because my experiences growing up are what have made me realize or decide that everyone is racist to an extent. It’s also why I don’t want to hear it when others suggest that people aren’t harsher when assessing the appearances of black women, because they absolutely are.

Did anyone have parents that would claim to fight for or protect you if you ended up in a relationship with an abusive partner. While completely failing to realize that they too have been abusive to you since childhood?

How is it even possible for you to protect me from someone else, when you couldn't even protect me from yourselves?

And wonder why I absolutely have no trust in anyone as an adult now.

Things that generally signal unsafe and racist tendencies : - code switching when talking to you and other minorities - excessive virtue signalling/trying to prove they are not racists - harsh on crime, pro punishment ( this is usually until they hear the perpetrator is not some POC but a white person then they are all about mercy ) - emphasis on politeness, civility but lack of morals - heavily gossips - out of touch with other cultures or only instances with other cultures is by cheap “fun” travels to underprivileged countries, no POCs friends otherwise(watch for sex tourists, predators, general signals white supremacist mentality and exploitation ) - racist “dark humor” - envious behaviour such as diminishing your accomplishments or goals, or discouraging you - extremely religious or extremely anti theistic - Family ties and “blood is thicker than water” valued excessively - Constantly compares their lives to yours (jealousy,envy..) - Minimising your experience with racism or tries to gaslight you about it - Wilfull ignorance about racial topics, politics and feigned incompetence

• Hobbies/lifestyle generally designed to let them live their lives in a bubble with their race only
• Bootstraps mentality

Feel free to add more in the comments whatever helps people avoid these vipers.

Just need to get this off my chest, I suppose. But... I really have a hard time not only just admiring people attractively, (I'm very very reserved in it believe it or not for those who know me) but even actually imagining a healthy, romantic, or even real loving relationship with someone. It's crazy because you see how in movies and shows how it looks like. But, due to how this disgusting world operates of portraying an illusion of what the world should look like than what it actually is, I can't really believe or grasp if this is how it exist in reality.

I never had any healthy relationships growing up, or saw healthy married adults. For me, I thought family just tolerate each other and if you love someone, you tolerate who they are. But... it's so hard to imagine a reality where that isn't true. I don't feel convinced till I felt some real, requited love........... from my cat. But really, it's such a nice feeling that nonverbally, we can express. I can't even imagine having that with another person. I can't even imagine someone even considering and treating me the same way I treat others. I can't imagine that empathy, crafted care, tender observation of my interests and taking them on, making or doing something when sensing or communicating I'm not feeling good, wanting to care for me when my body physically isn't doing well, and just making a secure space to be myself. I can't imagine anyone going through any of those efforts for me. But... it's weird that I have to sit in this uncomfortable feeling that I deserve to not settle for less and get what I give to others. I feel so unworthy, and when I see people I may have a slight attraction or admiration of, I can't imagine them wanting to do that, even if I am their friends. It's hard to put your worth up in a world that constantly brings it down.

You hear so much too how men are lonely. And it's usually white straight cis dudes in a society that already has them centered and catered, still finding it hard to navigate yet think and conclude everyone else has it easy because certain counter constructs of equity gives the other some platform that our struggles are still unjust. (As if they work and solve the world's problems of these social constructs created to maintain status quo) Being and interacting with the world as not just black, but a woman, and a black woman (3 separate things) and gender non conforming, queer, no longer religious (but raised in a strict cult like sect of christianity) as well as the generational trauma my family carries and put onto me because they know no better made my world just as hard (and others like me, even harder) like we don't have what they're going through, and then some. I'm touch starved, I've fallen to body dismorphia that intersects with the many things I relate to, because I'm just the opposite of what the society was created for, I've adapted self hate as my coping mechanism to swin through the hateful storms of bigotry in its many forms, and the only thing I just ask of others is to please not judge me so harshly based off stereotypes, but off my actual character and what makes me, who I am: my individuality.

So, I hate being in this uncomfortable truth. We normalized toxicity so much that we make healthy, deserving, etc something that's a fantasy. It starts with us to normalize it, but the big shift comes from those who can give up their privilege for all to benefit.

I just finished the session with my therapist and she made it seem like asking for a guy with emotional intelligence that I was basically asking for a billionaire. like she made it seem like I was asking for a real life unicorn like that I was that I needed to really learn to compromise because I was asking for a fantasy that doesn't exist apparently. and then she started talking about her husband and how her husband's not very emotionally intelligent and I'm like is she just projecting like the limitations of her relationships on to me?

And then she started talking about like how you know men have evolutionarily had to be Killers to survive so of course they're not emotionally intelligent and I'm like why is there so much justification for how shitty men are and that I need to like stop asking for basic emotional intelligence. and here I am trying to justify that like I am deserving of a loving partnership especially since I didn't have a good childhood and that this is not something I can compromise on. it was just really weird and I'd love to get your thoughts on it guys I'm just like still like rattled. like I already kind of feel hopeless with my single life right now or as they would say in Bridgeton I have no prospects but this conversation definitely did not help

I'd love to join more communities like this. Anytime I post racism/sexism elsewhere I get name called or dismissed. I'd love to find more safe reddit communities like this

I've found Heidi Priebe on youtube to be super helpful. Just the simple concept of with ofcourse you can't focus your emotionally disregulated, so obviously you'd procrastinate cause you physically can't focus. How alot of my responses aren't me being broken but obvious trauma responses. It's been validating for sure.

Therapy has been helpful as well

Having good friends (though this has been difficult to maintain)

Being more honest, like if I don't wanna buy the donut at the donut shop anymore, I just say that, instead of lying about coming back later cause I feel bad, I'm still working on this

watercoloring when I'm really struggling with my emotions

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This is so needed for healing but I'm struggling to figure out where/who/how to find or create community. has anyone here had some success?

Realizing this is more common than I was hoping. I recently had a counselor try to empathize with my struggles with belonging (biracial here and never felt like I could “fit in,” with other Asians or yt folks either). While I understand the extroverted tendency to relate through personal experiences, it became glaringly clear this person had been wasting my time when they described the challenges of being a yt minority while living in Alaska and “how hard,” that was for them. Thankfully I found another counselor who has been far more helpful.

I’m mostly just wondering how many other folks have encountered similar hurdles in their healing processes. I understand that finding a counselor with shared lived experience could be a relatively easy fix here, but ironically that is also a challenge (esp since I live in a very yt area that severely lacks in diversity, lots more talk than action on equity and diversity initiatives where I live).

Not asking for/expecting advice, just wanted to vent. Maybe there’s others in the same boat 🤷

I’ve really been noticing my aversion to going outside due to this strong shame I feel in regard to my appearance and taking up physical space; I don’t really know if this is a form of agoraphobia and/or strong insecurity, but it’s been keeping me from attending protests and events lately.

I’m also only able to go alone, and it’s not recommended; I’m afraid of something happening to me whether at the hands of counterprotestors and/or police.

I’m also just exhausted all the time, and I hate it. I remember having so much energy in middle school and wanting to attend all kinds of protests + join so many social justice organizations when I got older, and now I rarely have the energy to look for + change clothes and get to the protest destination; and, as a neurodivergent, I’m too afraid of being othered by individuals to sign up for any organizations. The people in Sudan, Congo, Haiti, and Palestine are facing terror everyday and they still manage to get up and do what they have to do, and here I am too ashamed, afraid, and fatigued to leave my house; I feel so guilty. I know I can attend online events but I feel they’re not as impactful as physically showing up.

It's such a small win but it feels so good to know I'm doing a small part to preserve our language for my kiddo. That's it. Thats the post.

Hello! I ran into a dilemma and I would appreciate your advice. I landed a position I really wanted, but the org culture seems toxic. They are disorganized to the point they aren’t giving enough info for me to do my job, and the manager seemed hostile when I asked clarifying questions. I’m also getting weird hostile vibes from the team I’m supposed to lead. I can't pinpoint why, but I feel undermined all the time and simply thinking about this job is physically and mentally draining.

This is a 100% POC organization but the toxicity reminds me of working at a predominantly white workplace, which is very disturbing. I'm alarmed because I was bullied at a narcissistic workplace that showed similar read flags before. However, I'm excited about my job and I’d hate to let go of an opportunity.

On one hand, I’d like to voice my concerns and see if anything changes. I’m also wondering if disclosing my neurodivergence would help make the situation less toxic. But on the other hand, part of me already knows this isn't something I should be putting up with. The stress is draining me to the point it's undermining my ability to get other things done and interfering with daily life. What would you do? Thank you for reading!

So basically I've been trying to hook up with people again (17 yr)

I found this woman who is down to meetup but she doesn't have a car, or money. I go to a internship type of thing and could leave on my hr long lunch break to hookup but it takes 20 minutes to and back

I could probably afford being late, but I'm scared that if I go she'll be creepy or something. And it'll fuck up my whole situation.

Off the top of my head one time a boy said "you look like a terrorist". A girl defended me saying "thats racist" but another boy jumped in and said "it'd be racist if he didn't say it". That makes no sense. Later i heard the 1st boy vent "it's not racist", second replied "i know he's fucking Spanish". The logic makes no sense just because i'm brown it's okay to insult me for another race but it's also not okay to get consequences for it since i'm not that race?

Another time in school i had friends turn on me, ostracize me, call me racist slurs for a race i don't even belong to for weeks on end. A boy got angry at me and said "you went to guidance over ONE word". Like i was at fault. What am i supposed to do, just take it?

Likewise even therapists dismiss minimize and victim blame.

It's like they get angry at anything that confronts them with themselves.

Found out my sister gave birth last week. No one even told me she was pregnant.

obviously i feel unwanted and vilified. in my eyes, they couldn’t want me to be in this child’s (or their) lives if they would hide his very birth from me. not just my sister and her husband, but my siblings, their families, our mutual friends, my parents… i just started my diagnosis journey last year, and this is such a slap in the face. i feel so alone. (TLDR at the end)

For Context: i’m the youngest of four (33F), and my sister and i are one year apart. our brothers are about 15 years older than us (same parents); they were born before my parents immigrated to the US. my sister was an accident, well after my family was settled. and growing up, i was told that they had me with the intention of “keeping her company.”

however it started, i ended up suffering a lot of trauma for these intentions. my family is staunchly catholic, does not acknowledge mental health, and wanted nothing more than peaceful assimilation in the US. they could not begin to comprehend a neurodivergent child and largely see me as something to be ashamed of and hide away. i grew up hidden from the public eye, but ignored and ridiculed at home, by one older brother in particular. the financial toll of two unplanned daughters bankrupted my father, and he took his frustrations out on me. he would take lights, pillows, and other comfort objects from me and give them to my siblings, locking me in closets and saying i didn’t deserve them because i “chose” to disobey his orders to “behave.” my siblings would revel in this, even sucking up to him to get him to buy them things they could rub in my face or barring doors shut from the outside. beyond material possessions, i was not allowed to participate in activities unless my sister wanted to, and being very competitive, she was quick to refuse to participate in anything she couldn’t easily beat me at. we once took an art class where she threw a tantrum because our teacher had praised me with a yellow ribbon. my dad refused to leave until the teacher gave my sister a ribbon of equal or greater value so she could rub it in my face.

as we got older and i emancipated myself, i kept my distant from my siblings. i knew my oldest brother did not condone how i was treated, but he had a family of his own before i was 10. i also couldn’t bring myself to blame my sister for my fathers dysfunction, however much she continued to profit off of the dynamic he cultivated. i love her, after all. i even once thought i saw a tear in her eye at a family holiday dinner when my one asshole brother was mocking my childhood self’s autistic behavior (which is typical of these occasions and why i would rarely attend). in that moment, i was so certain that she was sorry, and just didn’t know how to say it. i have always been ready to forgive her.

we were never friends or even close, she was there for me a couple of times i needed it, though seemingly begrudgingly.
—i got into a car accident on the night her now husband was going to propose, and she was the one who picked me up, even on such an important night. i later overheard her gushing about the proposal to friends, including how embarrassing i had been at the venue (i had been so happy for her and clapped, which apparently she didn’t like).

—in the pandemic, i confided in her about my loneliness and SI, and she invited me to attend a weekly video chat she had with her friends. when i showed up, none of them even knew my name or who i was, and my sister stayed silent and off camera the whole time. i stopped attending, and she didn’t attempt to follow up with me.

—when i revealed my CPTSD diagnosis to her and tried to tell her about the things our dad would do to me, she said she didn’t know about any of it, but that she believed me. but she kept sucking up to him for gifts, and didn’t stand up for me the next time i was bullied at a gathering. i walked out, and she neither followed me nor attempted to contact me.

— i had intense burnout last year. i started being sexually harassed at my job, in the midst of trying to find treatment and a diagnosis. i ended up having to quit to avoid the gaslighting and retaliation (i’ve filed a claim with the the EEOC about it), and suffered an episode of skills regression and suicidal epression. i begged most of my family to try to be understanding and help me get things together, and she once brought groceries over and helped with dishes.

i have tried to reach out to her from time to time this past year, usually needing help and wanting to knew if i could expect it from her. but we never learned how to talk to each other. she tells me i need to stop thinking of myself as a burden, but she treats me like i am. it seemed to make her uncomfortable to be around me, and she doesn’t ask me questions or say any more than an empty platitude or two when i try to reach out to her for support. she never initiates contact. when she got married and moved out of my parents house, i practically had to beg her to invite me into her new home. it felt like she would have rather put me behind her.

between the lawsuit with my former employer, battles for treatment options with my insurance company, the trauma of the harassment, its aftermath of financial insecurity, i began begging her to be a better sister, reminding her of the ways i protected her growing up, how much more our father would give her, asking her how could she be so selfish in my time of need. it wasn’t the best look, but my SI was sky-high, and because she had shown up that one time, i thought she would want to help. she texted me not to hurt myself, that she wouldn’t know what to do if she lost me. i told i thought that mourning me would be easier than helping me if my asks for support were too much for her to act on. she hasn’t responded to any of my texts since.

TLDR: we grew up in a dysfunctional household where we were pitted against each other for her neurotypical benefit. she’s never been to therapy and, though she can acknowledge that i am treated unfairly in our family, she shows no interest in my life. when i have asked for support, she provides close to the bare minimum, but it’s more than anyone else gives me, so it means a lot.

how am i supposed to react to this exclusion from her life? i can’t be sorry for being born different, and i can’t blame her for me being too much for her or for wanting a simple life. i love her too much for that. i just don’t know how to tell her if she can’t even tell me she has a child.

With the history of this country (America) I try to be understanding of what past generations of my ancestors had to experience but like at the same time there’s so many black families that are solid.. so idk where to draw the line when it comes to looking at it from that pov 🤨

I’m travelling Japan, staying in hostels so I can meet people and socialize while I solo travel. And just recently, this white girl from Germany usually over ramen tells me how she doesn’t like chinese people, and then a bunch of other stuff of her chasing guys who ghost her (quite sad). I’m immediately uncomfortable and wanna get away from this kind of person. She keeps pushing and trying to make plans with me even when I tell her I’ll be sleep deprived and don’t want to. Again keeps showing me the kind of person I’d never wanna be associated with.

I have a therapy session that night and tell the therapist what happened. Cause my therapist has been telling me that my depression might be associated with the lack of social network I have. But I tell her straight up I won’t tolerate any discrimination against any group even if it doesn’t target me (cause let’s me honest if I wasn’t so Indian looking, they might have spilled their Indian racism too).

And she fucking agreed. And she said I said I shouldn’t swallow other people’s shit behaviour. And that I should call it out, so it doesn’t erode me from the inside. Cause it erodes your self esteem and self to “keep the peace” when someone is clearly being hateful. And she said as long as there isn’t a power dynamic that could hurt you (like ur boss or an intimidating buff man) say it so you don’t swallow their hate.

I was stunned. I never thought a therapist would say that, I would like to note she’s a black woman so she fucking knows the ridiculous hateful world we live in and she has to navigate it too.

Next day I move to another hostel, girl1 complains I didn’t say good bye, and I sent her a text saying what she said was inappropriate and I didn’t appreciate her being pushy either and that I wanted to be clear with her and not ghost her. Of course she replies completely ignoring her racism and how we should all love each other more eye roll emoji here

I rant to a friend and move on.

Now I’m at a new hostel, hit it off with this new girl, American. And tell her about girl 1, and right before I have a chance to tell her how she made me uncomfortable and I cut her off, she tells me how she AGREES with girl 1’s statement and how “she gets it” since she’s travelled to china.

And omg. Why is every white girl I meet like this???

And yes I’ve been trying to strike up convos with the few pocs around the hostel.

So of course this girl wants to hang out and grab coffee, I make an excuse about this niche restaurant I have a reservation at so I can not hang with her.

But I know for a fact that she would never say she disliked Chinese people to a person who looked Chinese. But to me who looks some kind of brown/indian with an American accent, it’s full permission to????

Man I give up on white people. I’m happy they showed me their colours so early. I’m gonna try to be more brave and approach the poc at the hostel and make conversation.

Cause this is fucking ridiculous.

All of this stuff is jumbled and in no particular order. I hope to write a book about all of this one day, but I wouldn't even know how to start getting everything into a cohesive order.

So, here it all is.

When I was 7 years old, my parents divorced. It was over long before that though. We all knew it.

The moment I knew is when my biological mom, Karen, locked my brothers and I (Henry and Evan) outside in the backyard on a cold spring evening so she could scream at my dad without us being in the house. My older sister, Sam, was in the house though. Every time. She's blind and disabled. Karen never really cared about what she witnessed.

After my dad officially left, she never cared what any of us witnessed. That day, Karen threw herself down the stairs and blamed it on my dad. I watched the whole thing go down and she still claims I didn't see anything. I remember it vividly. Slamming my little fist on the door and screaming because we had been out there for three or four. The sun had gone down.

We were freezing and bored.

I'm still surprised no one called the police.

In her single life, Karen would bring all sorts of strays home with her at all hours of the night. Many of whom, I only ever saw the one time.

Due to her lifestyle, it was my responsibility to make sure my siblings were put to bed. Sure, Karen always asked if I wanted to do it and gave me the option to say no, but if I ever said no, she would mope around the house and complain about how alone she is and drink herself to sleep.

She never viewed me as her daughter. I was her therapist, her babysitter, her best friend, but not her daughter.

One of the strays she brought home was named John. He had a daughter named Rose. John was an amateur DJ. At the time, he only ever did karaoke at the one bar Karen would go to. That's how they met. It seems that John has become a better person now. His daughter has good intentions and is doing the best she can. She had a rough go of it from the start.

When I knew John, he had a very short fuse. He would yell and scream at me and my siblings all day long but he only ever laid his hand (belt, buckle side ready) on his daughter.

He once slammed the breaks of his car in a neighborhood because my brother was in the front seat and refused to put on his seatbelt. Henry slammed his head on the windshield and got a concussion, but that was funny to John.

"Come one! It was a joke! This is why you always need to have your seatbelt on!" Then he turn on NPR like it was no big deal.

John and Karen got engaged, but it ended when my uncle tried to kill himself and John said that Karen wasn't allowed to go visit him. I don't know why that was her last straw.

Personally, watching someone beat his daughter to the point of welts forming on her butt and thighs using a belt and listening to her cries for help would have been my last straw. Different strokes, I guess.

My dad however, focused on himself for a little bit. That really pissed Karen off.

The next person my dad was with is the one he is married to to this day. My dad and Michelle worked together at their boring cubical job. My dad needed a place to live and she told him that the townhouse right next to hers was available for rent. So, he moved in and they became neighbors. They were just friends at this time, but Karen wouldn't have any of it.

When we were finally allowed to go visit my dad and stay the night, it was like a breath of fresh air. I remember feeling so happy at that townhome, even though the basement where I slept was crawling with spiders.

My dad was doing the best he possibly could for the four of us. He was in a bind and couldn't have breakfast foods for us all the time, so when we ran out, Evan, Henry, and I would walk over to Michelle's door and knock quietly. We didn't want to wake the baby.

She would come to the door, looking like she had just woken up, with an unopened box of waffles for us every single time we showed up. She understood.

One day, Karen was dropping us off at my dad's house and she saw Michelle sitting on her own front porch. That was completely unacceptable to Karen so she drove up to the house, flipped Michelle off, yelled expletives at my dad and drove off.

My dad ran after the car all the way to the main road and jumped in front of it. It's the most heroic thing I have ever witnessed him do.

Karen revved the engine as a warning and he didn't budge.

I knew what she was about to do and I remember screaming so loud. That scream still echoes in my head to this day. 20 years later.

Then, Karen did it. She hit the gas and my dad jumped onto the hood of the car. His body made and dent in the hood. My brothers, my older sister, and I were all screaming and sobbing. My dad got off the hood of the car when Karen stopped and she sped off.

When we got back to Karen's house, she had me settle my brothers down and she sat my older sister on the couch and wen to go call the police.

I laid out a comforter on the floor and turned on Spongebob for my brothers and when I heard the police officer arrive, I got antsy and had to go see if they were going to take my dad away. That's what Karen always threatened. That my dad would be taken away and she would move us to a different state so we could be closer to "good" family members.

I opened the garage door to find the officer and Karen talked about the dent on the car and I remember asking "Is the police officer going to take dad away because you hit him with the car?"

Karen gave a look that could kill and I went back inside.

I feel like I'm becoming a terrible person like Karen. Ruining friendships, romantic relationships, familial relationships. It feels like my life is falling apart. I lost two close friends recently and at the time I thought I was respecting my boundaries, but now I'm not so sure. I feel like I'm losing my mind and becoming crazy like Karen. My sister-in-law is one of my three only friends left and the only one I actually see in person and I feel like I ruined the relationship even though it was out of my control.

Is this how it starts? Is this how we become like our parents?

Sorry for the long trauma dump. I'm just really going through it and I feel like I have no one that actually cares enough about me to listen.

I need some perspectives other than mine. I don't know if this is an overly wary cPTSD response or if my feelings are valid here.

I grew up taking care of the emotional needs and the psychological stability and safety of a mom with bed-ridden depression, and then I got sent to live with a narcissistic white dad with explosive anger issues. This means I now always end up in relationships where I default to that role of caretaking fawn. It's something I'm working hard on healing.

I have this friend. She's from England. I'm an immigrant from the Caribbean. We met at work and we both live in Australia. I have a lot of trauma I have been managing since I remember being alive. Over the past decade, I've been lucky enough to have built a good career, so I've been able to afford therapy and resources to live a healthier life (although still making a woman of color salary...but I learned to survive). This is a generational turn for me—I'm the first person in my family to graduate from university.

Anyway, this friend is a descendant from the man who founded one of England's most respected publishing houses. Her mom is a hedgefund manager who owns an estate in The Maldives. She grew up taking yearly holidays, like when her dad decided they would all go see the wonders of the world.

Often, we have dinner and chat about our lives. I definitely don't feel like I can share most of my life. Mine is one sort of matted and lumpy with a lot of loneliness, depression, isolation and just trying to survive the burnout of dealing with all this trauma, constant triggering, and the daily piñata prize bullshit assortment of racial and misoginist microaggressions. She's just too neurotypical for me to steep the waters of our conversations with that stuff, so I don't consider her a friend I can talk to about the things I struggle with.

Anyway, I have this feeling like she only comes to me to unload all of her personal and emotional struggles. It's not just a feeling, she's told me she can't tell her "brunch girlfriends" about any of her problems. I've asked for the same three times now—a meal with a friend in possession of a supportive and empathetic ear to my own brunch-inappropriate menu of issues. An exchange of the same ample emotional real estate I subsidize for her. All three times I asked, she showed up with random people I didn't know, once without even telling me she was bringing someone to something I invited her to. I am trying to accept that maybe she's simply not that kind of friend, and that she's limited in her ability to offer the same support.

I'm not a good writer, as you can see from the lack of brevity here. The point is...I'm torn. A part of me sees I'm someone a little farther along in emotional maturity, so of course some people would value a friend like that in their lives. This friend is clearly someone who has only been around people who validated her own relational patterns, someone who maybe hasn't had the chance to access this layer of regulation that I've gained through my own work on myself. A decade of therapy has put me in the position where I can often give good advice to people stuck in a pattern of self-doubt, gaslighting, abuse, self-abandonment, etc. I'm often a Chironic figure—a wounded healer archetype—for people stuck in hurtful interpersonal patterns.

But there's only one situation where it's a gift—when it's reciprocated. And right now, I'm not feeling very reciprocated in this dynamic that is also polluted with all kinds of colonialist and racial tones. I'm here mostly just wondering what kind of internalized bullshit I'm not seeing at play here, if at all.

Trigger warning.

I get intense PTSD flashbacks. I usually need to find a quiet place to sit down until they pass. One time out in public, the best I could do was crouch down near a bike rack. I had a friend with me. It was a crowded street and everyone minded their own business, because I was acting like someone who maybe had too much to drink, or had a cramp, etc. Normal behavior you see on a Friday night on a party street.

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Between this experience and several others, I have a difficult time being out in public alone these days. I used to take long solitary walks, one of my top favorite things to do. I hate that their violence has stolen that from me. I hate that I've "allowed" them to steal my peace.

(This is not my only Karen story)

Just checking my privilege

And remembering that the goal of healing is not to be perfect, ideal, superior, invincible, impenetrable and imperturbable (which was my default, sabotaging and counterproductive belief, wish and mindset when dysregulated from trauma, but all too understandable as a traumatised child's most earnest wishful hope from their magical imagination.)

The goal of healing is to be able to open upto coregulation again, which is the same path as opening upto trust and intimacy again. From there, my system can learn to re-regulate and self-regulate. When my system can do that, it can heal again and I no longer need to be perfect, ideal, invincible, indestructible, inert and impenetrable.

The goal of healing is to be able to rupture and repair in relationships again. To be able to tolerate triggering in a relationship, re-regulate and return to the relationship to negotiate common ground and boundaries, accept and respect differences and preferences and navigate the ebb and flow of connection.

Healing is always possible!