Ever feel like you’re just TOO observative and sensitive? Like your surroundings have an irrationally large effect on your concentration, mood, and emotions? Like you’re strangely stimulated from the inside more often than not? Good news, it’s not just you – it’s Trauma. 

Dig the Complex Trauma support project? Well, shit, this MF needs support too. If this trauma podcast is helping you in any way, please consider throwing a few bucks at it – you’ll help other Traumatized Fuckers get the words they need to feel less alone, and help me afford to eat.  

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Transcript:

What’s up, motherfuckers?

It’s Jess. I’m back again.

I just finished recording a quick episode about leaning into a dark emotion that I’m having and was really avoiding for a number of weeks. And now I wanted to get back to my usual thing, reading my blog posts so that they’re more easily accessible, because I think that sitting down and staring at a browser is unrealistic.

It’s not something I do. It’s not something I expect other people to do.

So as long as I have this house to myself, it’s my podcasting day, it turns out. And I wanted to go back and talk about romantic relationships and insecure attachments with trauma.

This is a post that I took down and rewrote fairly recently, and I’ve been waiting to repost it because it didn’t quite fit in line with the other things I was working on. But you know, fuck it.

It’s important to me right now. I think it probably doesn’t matter so much about what order I release things, and it’s something I need to let go of.

Because the longer I don’t put this out there, the more people it’s not going to help. So let’s talk about my most embarrassing thing in life, which is how much I fucking lose my mind when I’m in a romantic partnership.

I’m not proud of this. I take relationships really seriously, and I have poor boundaries, and I tend to lose myself.

And it happens time and time again, and I keep doing it time and time again. So, you know, at least I’m acknowledging it out loud now, and I have no shame, zero fucks left to give, I guess.

This is honestly how I am. This is how my trauma plays out in romantic relationships.

Here we go. So my trauma brain has a tendency to focus intensively on one thing at a time.

I’m an obsessive person by nature. I get pulled into mental traps quite often.

Got to stay vigilant or pay the price, am I right? Besides, I tell myself obsession can be good or bad.

In the context of appearing functional and earning achievements, obsession has taken me a long way. I can hammer out an assignment in no time flat.

I can study for tests for weekends at a time. I can sit down and write for hours without realizing that time has passed.

I can get through days of work in one sitting if the conditions allow. In short, my anxiety is great for enabling high achiever syndrome.

The problem arises when my thoughts are directed at the wrong destinations. Too many emergencies, or I have a generalized focus on how shitty my life is.

When I can’t shake the thought, that’s when complications emerge. Moving forward in any direction becomes difficult.

And the biggest problem I have is redirecting my attention from personal relationships. Over and over again, I fall into the same trap.

Trauma history on repeat. I’m a sucker for life halting romantic relationships thanks to my insecure attachments.

Anyone else? So for me, relationships mean constant wheel turning.

My thinking often gets completely consumed by one majorly disturbing issue. I don’t think this is unrelated to trauma and anxiety.

I think I’m trained to be too aware of the “risks” to my safety. And cutting power to this closed loop isn’t easy.

I say this because my head doesn’t necessarily choose the most logical or pressing issue to obsess over. There is a hierarchy in my brain that isn’t based in practical reality.

If I have a massive work project or life decision to make, my thoughts aren’t always tied up 100% in resolving those issues. Instead, my brain can get trapped in some personal problem or more minor annoyance that strikes a familiar, fearsome chord.

Usually, this magnetic obsession is going to be my closest relationships. Relationships and perceived social problems majorly muck up my thinking.

I crave connection so deeply that it tends to push me off balance when things feel out of order. And I have a hell of a time trying to calm down when there’s ambiguity.

The emotional nature of my insecure attachment style takes precedence over my logical and intellectual priorities. I’m struck with familiar fears of abandonment and failure.

Once this thinking starts, I can’t push the panicky feelings out of my body or bring myself back towards other tasks. I find myself spiraling and everything else in my world disappears.

Let’s talk about ambiguity. Great connections with a black and white brain.

I have awful black and white thinking when it comes to social matters. I either want to be totally alone with no expectation of human connection whatsoever, or I want to be deeply supported, desired, and cared for.

Either way, I don’t want to worry about other people because I easily over-worry about other people. So leave me alone or be there without fail.

Those are the only options. In my traumatized brain, there’s no other way to operate.

My relationships need to be cut and dry. It’s too unstable and mentally disturbing for me to consider half measures.

There is no room for ambiguity in my personal world. This is why romantic relationships are so, so dangerous for me.

New partnerships, romantic or otherwise, are untested. Communication patterns haven’t been established.

Boundaries haven’t been laid out. Loyalty is unknown.

The future is unplanned. Assumptions of abandonment are extremely high.

And this ambiguity is just no good for trauma. Always waiting for the other shoe to drop, as they say, rapidly breaks my head.

I have no idea what to do with this new, unfamiliar dynamic. And I can’t stop thinking about it in a bad way.

So while other people herald the exciting early stages of relationships, personally, nah. I don’t enjoy the early tensions of wondering if you’ll receive a text back, if you’re hanging out this weekend, or if you accidentally said the wrong thing.

This period of shifting understanding truly freaks me out. It makes my brain run in circles.

It makes me into an unfocused, needy, and unhappy person. Is that exciting?

I guess, in the way that waiting for a lung cancer biopsy is exciting. So let’s say I’m dealing with something as simple as an unanswered text message with a partner.

I can be calm, at first. I’ll keep a level head and reason through the logical possibilities for a while.

They’re busy. They fell asleep.

They just forgot to hit send. Eventually, though, I get compositely stuck in feelings of generalized annoyance, agitation, and worry.

And then it’s a rapid decline. When I’m waiting for a reply, I beat myself up and spiral down the list of self complaints.

I catastrophize every last word. I blame myself for being something, being wrong, being weird looking, being socially inept.

I quickly tell myself that I’m difficult, confusing, and overly emotional on repeat. Which are all the things that I was always told growing up.

While I’m busy telling myself all the ways that I’m perpetually doomed to be alone, I can’t stop checking my phone. I can’t shake the gnawing, tight, sickening feeling in my stomach that comes with disappointment, embarrassment, and loneliness.

I have trouble focusing my attention on all the goals that I had for the day. My brain is already hurriedly running through a shit list of paranoia and nasty self degrading insults.

Soon in this mind space, I’m overstimulated and filled with tension, like a rubber band ready to snap. With relationship stress under the surface, I get worked up about anything that goes wrong in my life.

I have no tolerance for other people. I’m agitated at the world.

I try to cope with distractions. I eat snack foods for comfort.

I overindulge in scream time and drinking. I lie awake at night.

So weird. Why do I hate romantic relationships so much?

My pattern shine bright until love snuffs out my light. These days, I’m working really hard to keep these negative patterns at bay.

I’m hopeful, partially because I’m actually aware of this rise and fall pattern now. Confession, I flourish until I get swept up into sick people’s worlds and completely abandon my own.

Every time I fall into a relationship, I’m at a very busy and positive point in my life. I’m always making progress with my mental health.

I’m being creative. I’m taking care of myself.

I’m feeling positive. I’m looking great.

I’m chasing my aspirations and actually moving forward towards a better life. And then I get sucked under.

It’s like men can sense when I’m succeeding. It must be the aura around me when I’m completely happy or not completely destitute with depression and hopelessness.

It brings them in like moths to a candle that they must destroy. The problem is my positive streak won’t last long as soon as we become involved.

I’ll be dragged down until my mental health goes haywire. I’ll stop my mental health management practices and I start acting like a different person under the pressure of the relationship.

It feels like I’m sought out as a beacon of hope just so that my leg can be snuffed out. When I fall for someone, suddenly a new powerful connection emerges and I quickly orient away from my own goals.

The attention, the stability, and the security of a potential new boo is so intoxicating that I throw everything else to the wind. I feel like I’ve found some hidden gem in the rough.

Everything else seems less important all of a sudden. Within weeks or months, I’m so wrapped up in the dreamy quality of my new relationship that I change my life to be closer to theirs.

And that’s when the motherfucking shit starts. I’m definitely not skilled at picking them.

I choose people who present continual challenges, their own mental health issues, and plenty of deeply buried secrets. Suddenly, I’m needed for this, that, or the other thing.

I’m playing a support role where I fear the ramifications of taking any time or space for myself. I’m the only thing keeping them afloat, but they aren’t playing lifeguard when I start struggling.

When you’re endlessly worrying, giving, and putting all your effort into supporting someone, practically or personally, and they’re nowhere to be found when you have a hard time, catches up really fucking fast. It doesn’t take long before I fall off my positive mental health trajectory.

I feel crazy for my problems and responsible for keeping theirs at bay. It’s all consuming.

It doubles down my insecure attachment and anxiety. I give up on my hobbies.

I stop pursuing my goals. I stop caring for myself.

I’m too busy trying to care for somebody else. So I guess the question is, is it worth trying again?

Unclear. I know a lot of traumatized folks who swear by staying alone.

For years, I didn’t understand the appeal. I always wanted to seek new connections, to give things another chance, and to find my partner in crime.

What’s the point in life if you don’t open yourself up and keep trying? Well, it’s a nice thought, but these days, I feel like I just have too much other shit to worry about.

I really actually love my freedom. I enjoy working with complete focus.

I thrive having a schedule that’s determined entirely by my own wants and needs. In the difficult past years of personal growth, acknowledgement of abuse, and sudden exits from bad relationships, I’ve learned some lessons that can’t be forgotten easily.

Frankly, I’ve put in too much work into myself to be knocked off balance by some butthead again. And further, I realize now I don’t need anyone else, no matter how hard they try to convince me that I do.

When it comes to the potential of a new person entering my life, a big part of me says, “The world can get fucked if it tries. ” But another part of me knows I can’t be too rigid if something promising shows up.

New connections are energizing and perspective shifting, and surely an actual great person has to be out there somewhere. However, I know it’s not what I’m looking for.

At least not right now. So, settling up with my inner critic.

Realizing the difference between my mental clarity in a relationship and out of one, of course I have some anger and self-hate. It’s really hard to forgive myself for all the times I sold myself short and followed someone else into the dark, assuming they had a map and a flashlight.

I admit the voice in my ears is a dick about it. It’s easy to beat myself up for being a dumb girl, but at the root of it, that isn’t the problem.

I honestly don’t seek out relationships. I don’t need a man to be happy.

At all. I have spent a lot of time being single.

I’m not desperate just to be with someone. Just, I want to lose my heart to that special, misunderstood one.

I have to be fair, I grew up with dangerous, insecure relationships all around me. I never knew what it was like to be unconditionally loved or to reliably count on the people who quote unquote love me.

I had a lot of people enter and exit my life without explanation. I’ve felt incredibly close to people only to have them dip without even a conversation.

And I’ve always craved the feeling of being purely understood and accepted. So I try to offer it to my love interests.

When I can integrate all this knowledge, I feel sympathy for the younger Jess who felt so alone and isolated all the time to the extent that personal connections became an addictive escapist substance. I can eventually forgive myself for the times I emerged from total isolation and obsessively sought out relationships of all kinds and often shipwrecked myself trying to escape my lonely island.

Plus, it deserves to be stated again. I fall for messy humans with their own problems.

My trauma isn’t the only mental health issue involved when I’m left to choose my own partner. I like wounded animals.

What can I say? I don’t know what normal people do all day.

I don’t understand just being happy. When it comes to complicated boys, I feel like we get each other.

We can bond over our shared struggles. We can talk about dark times.

That is until theirs start fucking with my own mental health. I try my best.

I have a big heart. I get sucked into helping people.

And my insecure attachment makes me feel like I need to be the backbone of their lives. But meanwhile, I lose my own.

Let’s wrap up relationships. Will I continue repeating this pattern?

Well, I sure motherfucking hope not. With any luck, everyone with a penis will leave me alone for the foreseeable future and I’ll keep hammering away at my other efforts in the world.

I’m in a good place right now, so it can be assumed that the tests are going to start rolling in. Shining too bright, my dedication to living for myself will be tried.

Every time I think I’ve found someone who’s different, I’m wrong. I admit it.

I’m a terrible judge of character when it comes to the boys who soften my hearts with their problems. Don’t let me forget.

Don’t let me give up everything on another sick puppy. I have too much meaningful work to do.

So motherfuckers, it’s really embarrassing to say all of that, being a modern, semi-feminist woman. But do you relate?

Do you attract broken losers too? Do you tend to give up your shit for the sake of someone else’s?

Let’s talk about it. You can join me over at t-mfrs.

com. The link is going to be in the episode notes and in the podcast details.

I have a lot more writing there. I also have a membership site there so you can join up and become a part of the community, which we’re hosting on Discord right now.

It just started and it’s really great so far. I definitely am going to have a thread for relationships and maybe a separate one for abusive relationships.

Because if that wasn’t clear, I wind up with emotional abusers and at least one physical abuser too. It’s tough for me to acknowledge that I’m not good at romantic relationships, that they break me, and that I come back for them time after time anyways.

And it’s even harder for me to acknowledge that I’ve fucking known that about myself for at least a decade now. I have endless journal entries and recorded conversations with friends where I point blank tell them that I do not thrive in relationships.

Why have I done this to myself again? I’ve known the difference.

I’ve felt it in myself. I’ve seen it in my world.

How small my life gets when I’m with somebody and how expansive I feel the moment that I’m single again. But besides having all of that knowledge, I haven’t had the, I guess, personal strength or gumption or accountability to keep myself away from that pattern.

It’s a part of my endless trauma loops, which I’m currently working on writing right now. The ways that I repeatedly relive the same things over and over again, because apparently it’s going to take me 30 years to learn a motherfucking lesson.

I hope that talking about my worst shit and all the things that I’ve been through can help somebody else avoid having to relive these same lessons for 30 years of their life. Let me know how I’m doing.

Write in, rate the podcast, send me an email. I’d love to hear from you.

I’d love to know what trauma traits we share and what everybody is working on to further their trauma recovery journey. All right, I’ll talk to you motherfuckers soon.

Later guys.

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References:

Robinson, C., & Brown, A. M. (2016). Considering sensory processing issues in trauma affected children: The physical environment in children’s residential homes. Scottish Journal of Residential Child Care, 15(1). https://pureportal.strath.ac.uk/en/publications/considering-sensory-processing-issues-in-trauma-affected-children