Child Abuse Survivor - Issue #179
Thankful for you
Quoting myself from many years ago, though this is still true:
Since yesterday was the Thanksgiving holiday here in the US, and I have been writing about the idea of thankfulness each year at this time, I just wanted to take a minute to say that I’m thankful for you, the readers of this site. I’m grateful that you take the time to read, comment, send me links, share posts from here with your social networks, and sometimes even let me know when something written on the site has had a positive influence on you. Knowing that someone, somewhere, is getting something out of this site makes all the time and effort worthwhile.
Thank you for reading the Child Abuse and Mental Health Survivors newsletter. Each week, I share new blog posts and other resources that aim to help survivors of childhood abuse and those who are struggling with mental health issues feel less alone as we discuss the issues surrounding our issues.
For more information about me and why this newsletter exists, visit the website, Child Abuse Survivor.
Beyond all of that, though, I’m also glad you’re here in a more existential sense. I’m glad you’re here, still working to move forward in healing. I’m happy you haven’t let the abuse take more than it already has, that you are doing whatever you can to heal, and that you are supporting others who are trying to heal as well. It may not always look that appealing, and it might be the toughest thing you’ve ever done, but as long as you’re here, there’s at the very least hope for healing and joy to come to your life. That sure beats the alternative!
What are you feeling thankful for this week?
New from the Blogs
Sharing - How Perfectionism and Childhood Trauma Are Connected
As a kid, I needed everything to be perfect, not because I was some overachiever. It was because I knew in my heart and body that anything that wasn’t right could create a violent situation. Any detail overlooked, any warning sign missed, or any wrong word could end up with me getting abused. It became a learned behavior like Pavlov’s dogs. Any mistake created anxiety and fear of repercussion.
One problem with blanket rules for everything is that there will always be a situation where the rule harms someone. Parental consent rules are one example. Sure, it’s great when parents are involved in their kids’ care. It’s ideal, even.
That assumes they have good parents, though. When the thing a kid needs protection against is the parent, you can’t demand the parent’s consent for that.
Following up on the topic of mental healthcare in school:
It seems many parents want schools to do more in this space, which makes sense, because mental health issues only get worse when kids grow up without support.
Shared from Elsewhere
Parents aren’t the only ones asking for more mental health support for kids - Youth want more mental health support, assessment finds.
A reminder that there are things we can do - Let’s Stop Suicide – Together
For example, Men’s Mental Health Panel Emphasizes How Small Acts of Kindness Build Community
Is this our destiny? Does it have to be? - USA: Land of the lonely, home of the stressed
If that is our destiny, it’s going to be bad for us:
How Relationships Feed Your Brain
Also: The secret to happiness? Finding joy in others. It’s free, simple, and will gladden your heart.
Making a Difference:
Do the Right Thing: Robert got his friend help during a mental health crisis
Oxford United’s Will Vaulks wins Fifpro award for mental health work
U. professor honored for cultural impact, advocacy efforts in public, mental health
Former Marine helps other veterans cope with mental health struggles
From the Archives
No, the easiest way to break up those circles, as any kid who threw rocks into the water can tell you, is to throw another rock and create new concentric circles starting from a different location.
In my metaphor about the trauma, I wonder what those other rocks could be. Mental health treatment? Care and support from family and friends? The elimination of stigma attached to trauma?
How about instead of ignoring the circles, we start throwing some more useful rocks and disrupting the cycles of trauma that we see repeated over and over again in those circles?
History Survives When We Talk About It
No matter what our leaders want to include or exclude from the official histories, we know these events happened. We may not be successful in getting large-scale claims of abuse into the history books of the future, though we should try, but we can all continue to talk about them. The mainstream may want us to be quiet about the abuse that happens within the family, the church, etc., but we can tell our stories. We have voices, our own online spaces, connections, and the freedom to speak.
Most of all, we can support the people telling those stories. They are preserving our history and reminding all of us that the survivors are out here, we know what was done, and we will not accept the lies. We can ensure the truth is out there for those who want to learn and do everything we can to ensure that history is shared.
When Triggered, Some of Us Become Different People
As she and her guests shared their stories and the research around how this happens, I kept replacing all of the stories; the pain of giving birth, the struggle to bike up 4,000 feet of incline, and others with trauma and PTSD flashbacks. When we have those kinds of reactions, we become different people. Often, we become the child who was being abused instead of the adult we are, and we act accordingly. We lash out, self-protect in unhealthy ways, or try our best to hide from it.
The exact reactions are not the important thing. We need to know that it happens. When in an extreme emotional state, we can act like a different person. We all do. The problem is that we don’t know that person. We are not good at predicting how we will react. When we are in a calm state, the warm-state version of us makes no sense, and how we think we’ll act turns out not to be what actually happens.
Thanks for reading. If you find this newsletter informative and helpful, please share it with others. That’s the best way to express gratitude for my weekly efforts.
As someone who sits with trauma survivors every day—in court-involved cases, in clinical settings, and in the quiet moments when people finally feel safe enough to let the truth surface—your message here is such an important reminder. Healing isn’t loud or linear. It’s the quiet decision to stay, to keep going, to keep trying. And as you said, that alone is something to be deeply grateful for.
I’m grateful for spaces like this one that don’t sensationalize trauma and don’t pressure survivors into “performing” their healing. You name the reality: perfectionism, hypervigilance, dissociation, anger, exhaustion—these aren’t character flaws. They’re adaptations. They kept people alive in environments where small mistakes had real consequences.
And you’re right about something else too: community matters just as much as individual work. I see every day how having even one safe person, one validating comment, one moment of connection can break the isolation that trauma tries to lock people into.