Anyone else have big emotions that shift faster than the wind? One moment I'm floating, the next I'm fucking sinking. External circumstances don't even have to wreck this ship; I have an explosive boiler room powering this ocean liner. With spiraling thoughts, fear-based perception, and a general ignorance of what "doing well" even means... it's hard to keep positive emotions stable or properly name your mental state. Everything is relative, and compared to others, I'm relatively-great at being miserable.

You too? Sorry dude. Come hang at t-mfrs.com or traumatizedmotherfuckers.com if you want to find similar scales.

Tired of painting on a happy face? We all are. For better or for worse, we have all been programmed to keep our heads down and project utter bliss, or at least sufficient satisfaction, to the entire planet. This only equips us with the universal expectation that everyone is actually fine, and we should be too. 

If you're tired of being "fine," you know where to find other Fuckers. Join up at www.t-mfrs.com

When we discuss this C-PTSD thing... what the fuck are we really talking about? What is it? How does it happen? What are the long lasting effects?

What did I forget? Write to me at t-mfrs.com

Revisiting an old post, from May 2020. 

Tired of painting on a happy face? We all are. For better or for worse, we have all been programmed to keep our heads down and project utter bliss, or at least sufficient satisfaction, to the entire planet. This only equips us with the universal expectation that everyone is actually fine, and we should be too. 

If you're tired of being "fine," you know where to find other Fuckers. Join up at www.t-mfrs.com

Always waiting for something to change before you can? Convinced that the obstacle is too large - and uncomfortable - to start climbing? Yeah, me too. But rest assured, no one knows what the fuck they're doing. The inferiority fear and resistance is more than half the battle. Get moving and figure it out as you go, Motherfucker. 

Find me at t-mfrs.com 

Sound quality warning! Get ready for some birds and bees.

When you can't talk about your experiences and subsequent mental illness... you hide it. I spent my life trying to patch the holes with all sorts of disguise; fading into the background, embodying a subservient worker bee, coating my exhausted face with layers of paint. In hindsight, to pacify other people and fit into the "healthy herd." 

Did it ever really work? Nah, motherfuckers. Nobody has ever called this walking war against self "healthy or happy-looking" until I actually got a grip on positive living. And that was like... right now. 

Sorry for the nature-sounds; trying a new walk and talk format. Hope you enjoy ambient bird calls and bugs screaming. If you don't... shout it out. [email protected] 

Compulsive workaholic for the sake of escaping your own life? Holler - lifetime member of the Overdoing It club. All that self-neglect in the name of accomplishing? It makes me lose sight of my complex trauma recovery. This past month of June, I was deep in a work-tunnel, escaping from myself. 

This Traumatized Motherfucker cast/blog/community is fun and fulfilling - but I forgot something critical - TMFRs isn't running the show; I'M the real project. You know I have plenty to work on without any screens in front of my face; building a life and growing into a better human. 

Somewhere along the line, I sold myself out. I stopped tuning in and paying attention to my own brain. Just like I do over and over. So this week, I've been on HIATUS from T-MFRS. Taking a time out from writing. Rethinking things. Processing new events. Getting my brain back in order. 

Here I am, relapsing. Workaholics Anon starts next week. Meet me on the Discord channel @ t-mfrs.com if you relate.

I’m one rigid bitch. Maybe not in my beliefs or judgements of others... but shit, I can’t handle my own self. My days? Wake up, work out, werk werk werk until these eyes are ready to BLEED, promise I’m going to do better tomorrow, rinse and repeat.

I never realized that this always-moving, constantly-accomplishing mindset was a part of my trauma. But hey, like everything else in life, it all goes back to childhood coping, fucked up core beliefs, anxiety and avoidance. Thanks, trauma! You made me a high achiever and got my ass out of poverty... but now you grate on my mental and physical health everyday. 

Time to stop pretending this chronic accomplishing is a merit. It's a fucking addiction. Workaholics Anon, established 2020.

Wanna join? Check the podcast bio for links to the Traumatized Motherfuckers website and request to enter the Discord community.