CPTSD and writing a book 🫶🍋🌿🌊🕶
I’m listening to my nervous system and have backed off writing the chapter I’ve been editing. The material is particularly hard. While I use fictional stories and metaphors instead of personal anecdotes, the emotional core of the chapters very often are driven by my own first hand experiences. I fully believe what I’m writing is important but some of it still feels rather fresh and it’s shutting me down to write about it. This is not the time to power through or I might push myself back into functional freeze. So I’m cutting slack. What a concept. Despite how passionately I want to continue getting the second edition of my first book across the finish line, my nervous system comes first.
Here’s my dog. His name is Happy and he’s 14 ½. I’ve been walking him at the mall because it’s too friggin hot outside and the pup needs to get his steps in. I also have the dog stroller so he gets breaks when he’s tired. He loves to ride along and see things from higher up. I feel like I’m back to the days when I took my toddler to the mall. He’s worth it. #cutedogs #dogperson #dogpeople #gooddog #puppers
Living with Complex PTSD (CPTSD) often means navigating intense emotional challenges, especially when engaging in activities that touch on personal trauma, like writing a book. I’ve found that the key to making progress without retraumatizing myself is to honor my nervous system’s signals. When the material gets heavy, I give myself permission to pause rather than push through exhaustion or emotional shutdown. This approach isn’t just about being gentle; it’s about sustaining my ability to write meaningfully over time. One helpful strategy has been to use fictional stories and metaphors instead of direct personal anecdotes. This allows me to convey the emotional truth without reopening fresh wounds too abruptly. Accepting that some chapters will take longer to perfect is part of the process—and it’s okay to take breaks. Another surprising source of support comes from my dog, who I walk indoors to avoid heat stress. His presence and the simple act of caring for him remind me of the importance of small joys and routine during difficult periods. Taking him for walks in the mall and letting him rest in his stroller brings a sense of normalcy and comfort, similar to caring for a toddler. These moments away from the writing desk help recharge my mind and body. For anyone managing CPTSD while pursuing creative projects, balancing discipline with self-compassion is essential. Listening to your body, setting boundaries, and appreciating quiet moments of joy can sustain your work and healing journey. Remember, your nervous system’s wellbeing is the foundation of creativity, not an obstacle. Prioritizing self-care is not a setback—it’s a crucial part of your progress.
