Overcome Hardships and Change Your Life (4-Video Compilation)

Almost everything you encounter about childhood trauma emphasizes how awful it is, how broken you are, and how terrible the people who hurt you were. That doesn’t deny the harm or the wrongness of what happened, but spending all your attention on that backward-looking pain can be dangerous. If the person you are now is pleading to change, you won’t move from the injury you suffered toward freedom and a truer, happier self by dwelling only on the trauma. You are more than what happened to you. The abuse or neglect you endured was cruel and damaging, but—even if your footing is unsteady—you have room to claim freedom, to begin repairing yourself, and finally to make your life your own. Healing begins when you shift some of your attention away from the past and focus on the present: the one person who can actually change your life right now is you, here and now.
All the videos, courses, and coaching described here are about making that shift: recognizing the symptoms and the brain changes that happen when something hurts you or a trigger fires in present time, and learning how to begin the repair. Today the focus is on what you’ll notice in yourself as those beautiful changes start to occur. This is the most crucial part of the teaching, and these signs are reviewed periodically so everyone who watches can hear them and use them like a lighthouse—something to follow in darker stretches of life. Let these signals of recovery be your North Star.
You’ve likely heard about the self-defeating patterns people with complex PTSD fall into—habits that retraumatize, that bring childhood pain into present situations and crank those old wounds back up. If you haven’t seen a separate video where those behaviors are detailed, a link will be shared at the end, so stay tuned. What follows now is a portrait of what it looks like when those trauma-driven habits begin to drop away—because they will. Maybe you’re already experiencing this; maybe not yet. There isn’t time here to cover everything taught in extended programs, but the goal is to plant honest hope: you can heal these common ways people with childhood PTSD keep harming themselves. This work is taught because it was the hardest part of healing for many people. It’s not just the original abuse that was painful; often the most destructive force is the pattern of choices and relationships we later create—smoking, lashing out, dangerous partnerships. If you’ve taken these courses you may have heard a story like that. Recovery wasn’t instant and perfection hasn’t been reached, but if you’re stuck in patterns like these, the experience here is empathetic and practical. There is a better way forward.
So what are the signs that you’re no longer retraumatizing yourself? You won’t have every signal, but notice which ones fit you.
1) You stop seeing everything in black-and-white. When recovery is underway, you’ll be less likely to label people and situations as wholly good or wholly bad. You’ll begin to appreciate nuance: people can have flaws and still be fundamentally decent. Outrage gives way to curiosity; impatience softens into persistence. Extremes and blind allegiance to authority figures lose their pull. You’ll be able to relate to a wider range of people and learn more from relationships that once felt one-sided; dominant dynamics will either balance out or naturally fade. Cutting people out will feel less necessary. Think how freeing it will be to leave behind that repeated struggle.
2) You naturally want to take better care of your body. With less drama consuming energy, you’ll find more bandwidth for simple health-preserving actions—going for a walk, flossing, shopping for clothes that actually flatter you. When the inertia that kept you indoors or binge-watching all night begins to feel less tolerable, small steps toward overcoming addictive tendencies become possible. One manageable action leads to another, and clarity and enthusiasm for life build on themselves, encouraging more supportive choices.
3) Eating patterns that once soothed or numbed you will start to feel wrong. Childhood trauma often shows up in disordered eating—overweight, bingeing on refined carbs and sugar, or failing to eat. Those comfort foods can calm in the short term but dysregulate in the long run. As recovery progresses, that temporary relief will lose its appeal. If high-sugar and carbohydrate cravings are a particular problem for you (they are for many), a flexible approach like Bright Line Eating might help; a link to it is mentioned below for anyone who wants to explore it.
4) The urge to compulsively binge on screens—television, video games, or endless phone scrolling—loses its hegemony. If screen use has been interfering with sleep, meals, work, or presence with others, releasing that dependency can be transformative. The reality is that screens are part of modern life, and using them moderately is fine, but reclaiming time and attention from constant stimulation opens up life in meaningful ways.
5) The impulse to distort the truth—exaggerate, hide key facts, or lie—starts to fade. Healing reduces the shame and the reasons to conceal things. You’ll feel more comfortable being honest because authenticity itself feels better. When you’re being real, falsehoods will create discomfort, not comfort. If someone in your life can’t handle who you are when you speak frankly, that’s okay—maybe they’re not meant to stay. When they depart, even though loss can be painful, space opens for people who genuinely accept you.
6) Work begins to improve. You won’t remain stuck in unsatisfying positions forever. Recovery helps you either change your relationship to current work or find something better. If unemployment was a problem, progress makes it easier to find steady income that supports you and those depending on you. You’ll have better radar for exploitative employers, less appetite for workplace conflict, and more capacity to do solid work, encourage coworkers, and advocate for your ideas when needed.
7) Posts and behaviors that used to gratify you begin to feel distasteful; people around you may not know why, but they will simply enjoy being in your company more.
8) The pull toward unavailable or problematic partners and friends loosens. This pattern—clinging to trouble or avoiding intimacy altogether, or misusing intimacy through impulsive sexual behavior—is a major source of life damage for many with CPTSD. It is one of the harder areas to heal because it goes to the core of attachment wounds, but once progress has been made elsewhere, the spell breaks. There can be peace in being single and the possibility of a truly harmonious, loving relationship when one appears.
9) Reality becomes preferable to fantasy. Using daydreams, romanticized scenarios, or grand business schemes as a constant escape is an avoidance strategy common in trauma survivors. While imagining futures can be helpful, chronic fantasizing that prevents action begins to feel less necessary as healing takes hold. When you find yourself daydreaming, you can more easily return to the present, engage with others, and take pragmatic steps toward goals.
10) Financial and material stability start to look better. Most people who are happy are not rich; however, when trauma is diminished, it becomes more feasible to earn a steady income, drop quick-rich schemes, live within means, and release the fear rooted in past scarcity. Incremental gains across different areas accumulate into a real change: sleep improves, coping with hard days becomes possible, and you hold your head up despite mistakes because those mistakes no longer become self-sabotaging shame spirals.
This is what healing feels like: not being perpetually retraumatized. Don’t give up. There are concrete things you can do now. Estimates vary, but a sizable portion—around 15% of the population by some measures—experienced childhood trauma. Many of those people don’t even know their symptoms are tied to trauma. Some recognize their struggles and are working on them; many are simply suffering without an effective path forward. You may fear becoming one of those people trapped in trauma, never happy, loved, or stable. That is a real risk with CPTSD if nothing helps—but it’s not inevitable. It’s difficult to guess what will help at the start of healing, and early attempts can feel like failure. Yet if you give up without trying, the risk of being stuck increases. Perhaps you’ve already tried approaches halfheartedly, or you knew what steps might help but couldn’t find the will to follow through. This message is an invitation to take healing seriously and commit more fully.
Here are ten practical things to do—many of them used in coaching programs—that can move you forward. Not every item will be relevant to you, but pick one or two actions you can begin today. Choose ones that matter to you and are realistically fixable now: something important but achievable, a small win that fuels further progress. Small victories help sustain persistence, which trauma recovery requires.
Number one: Learn what complex PTSD really is. Don’t rely on fragmented internet descriptions or others’ diagnoses. Learn about how trauma injures the brain and dysregulates the nervous system, about emotional dysregulation and re-regulation, and how these changes impact daily life. Only recently has research shown that CPTSD produces real neurological injury, and many clinicians still lack a working understanding of that fact. Educating yourself helps you choose professionals who understand the injury and lets you base healing decisions on current knowledge rather than outdated assumptions.
Number two: Be ready to notice problems in your life that aren’t direct consequences of trauma. CPTSD can make sustained focus, consistency, presence, and relationships harder, and it can damage health. But everyone has everyday faults—being chronically late, for example—that don’t require deep brain repair to fix. These ordinary issues are often easier to solve and are valuable early wins. Addressing small, solvable problems builds confidence and momentum.
Number three: Move the stories of abuse out of present-time looping and into a “memory bucket.” CPTSD traps emotional and bodily reactions and replays them as if they are happening now, creating “looping” or “charged” thoughts that activate adrenaline and cortisol and keep the nervous system in a stressed state. The goal is to be able to access memories without them flipping the physiological switch every time they surface. A memory that’s been deactivated is just a memory: you can recall it without the body firing up. Learning to calm those electric thoughts—through naming them, writing them down, or other techniques—allows you to think about past events without being controlled by them. One method that helps is a structured practice for calming reactions, described here as the Daily Practice; it’s free and brief and can assist in reducing the power of looping thoughts. If surrendering fear and resentment feels frightening because those feelings have functioned as primitive boundaries, try doing this work in small steps. Facing what’s intense and writing it down often lightens the load and creates clarity about when something truly requires action or protection.
Number four: Stop trying to make other people stop triggering you. Triggers live inside you; even if someone wanted desperately to stop activating your responses, they probably couldn’t fully succeed. Learning to calm your own triggers is far more effective, empowering, and practical than hoping others will change their behavior. When you can soothe your reactions you develop discernment: you’ll be better at distinguishing between an actual harmful person and a situation where you’re simply being triggered. That discernment is often dulled by trauma. Tools like the writing technique in the Daily Practice, therapy, supportive friends, or fellowship groups can all help you test what’s real and what’s reactive. Calming your triggers gives you choice and flexibility. It doesn’t make you a doormat or mean you’ll accept abuse; it makes you better able to perceive what’s actually happening and to decide how to respond. Learning this skill opens space for your kindness, competence, talent, and joy to reemerge. When regulation improves, parts of you that were suppressed get a chance to shine.
Number five: Stop labeling and trash-talking the people you keep in your life. It’s tempting to attach convenient labels—“narcissist,” “toxic”—and to tell the world about others’ flaws. If the aim is true healing, shift the focus from condemning others to noticing how you get tense around them: how your emotions escalate or how you become dysregulated. That internal reaction is the place where you actually have agency. You always have the right to accept someone or step away, but recovery helps you do so with clarity, not with reflexive accusations. This doesn’t mean tolerating abusive behavior; it means being lucid and grounded so you can make wiser choices about staying or leaving, and so you can open your heart to genuinely good relationships when they’re present.
Number six: Stop clinging to relationships that drain you. Staying in a relationship that constantly depletes you—through fighting, disrespect, or abuse—will halt your healing. Some ties are complicated by duty or dependence, and those require careful planning and support to change, but wherever possible, keep creating distance from relationships that sabotage your emotional health. That distance matters for your recovery.
Number seven: The same principle applies to work: don’t remain in jobs that make you miserable unless your survival depends on them. Sometimes a paycheck is essential for a time, but being chronically stuck in a toxic job can be a form of avoidance—a way not to face other hard things. Recognize if misery at work is a choice you’re making unconsciously to avoid confronting difficult personal issues. Trying and failing is better than staying stuck; many people find new paths when circumstances force change, and sometimes that shift opens the way to work that better suits who you are.
Number eight: Release the myth that you passively attract bad people from the ether. “I attract narcissists” is a common refrain, but the truth worth focusing on is who you’re drawn to, tolerate, date, or sleep with. Predatory people do seek the vulnerable, but most relationship problems arise from porous boundaries, lack of red-flag detection, and unclear gatekeeping. Turning your “red-flag detector” on is part of trauma recovery and empowers you to make safer choices.
Number nine: If addictive behaviors are present, make recovery the top priority. Alcohol, drugs, binge eating, pornography, compulsive spending, or escape into infatuated fantasy (limerence) undermine the ability to face life’s ups and downs and to learn coping skills. These behaviors numb you and delay the work of healing. When you can stay present and tolerate disappointment and loneliness without seeking oblivion, you can begin constructive repair. It’s hard, but having reliable methods to self-soothe and to calm reactivity will dramatically help you recover from addictions. Those skills are taught and available in courses and supports referenced below.
Number ten: Sit down and brainstorm. Ask yourself—if I truly had to solve this problem of CPTSD, what ten actions could I take? This thought exercise surfaces solutions already within you that you may not have tapped yet, partly because focus or energy has been elsewhere. Make a list—even if some ideas sound wild. You don’t need to act on all of them at once; simply bringing possibilities into awareness is powerful. If you’re willing to try, you can often lift your mood and feel a bit better even amid hard circumstances. Feeling even a small increase in inner strength gives you the bandwidth to take further action. Counter to the cultural extremes—a pessimism that insists happiness is forever lost, or a superficial optimism that treats suffering like a mere attitude problem—real healing requires both self-awareness and practical effort. It’s not about wallowing in the past either; it’s about doing sustainable, practical things that help you feel better and make sensible day-to-day changes.
Here are simple strategies to raise mood and energy in the short term. Even modest improvements can catalyze bigger change, and they don’t depend on deep analysis of the past. Try these when feeling depressed, angry, overwhelmed, or exhausted.
– Get up one hour earlier than usual. Even if you think you can’t, rising earlier reduces the rush and immobilization that feed overwhelm. If you’re tired, that’s not an emergency—start with a hot drink and move forward.
– Do some structured writing every morning. Techniques that get anxious, looping thoughts out of your head and onto paper free mental space for clearer thinking. The Daily Practice combines naming negative thoughts and intentionally releasing them; it’s a specific sequence that helps break the hamster-wheel rumination.
– Meditate. Even five minutes of resting with eyes closed, letting the mind be, brings benefit. Meditation doesn’t require an empty mind or a complex posture—just a modest, regular practice. Pairing the writing above with meditation deepens its effect.
– Exercise vigorously. When trauma-related panic or frequent adrenaline spikes occur, intense movement for 20 minutes or more—running, brisk walking, or any activity that raises heart rate—can reduce symptoms significantly. Increased physical activity, hydration, and cutting back on sugar or alcohol helped many people ease PTSD symptoms without immediately turning to medication.
– Spend time outdoors. Natural light, the changing environment, and fresh air help regulate circadian rhythms and nervous system state. Walking on varied surfaces (curbs, dirt, uneven ground) also engages the nervous system in helpful ways and supports sleep and appetite normalization.
– Move with others when possible. Group exercise or classes that combine movement and cues (“left, right”) magnify the regulatory benefit because coordinating with other bodies and voices accelerates recalibration.
– Eat protein at every meal. High-carb, sugary meals can spike and crash energy and worsen dysregulation. Adding protein stabilizes hormones and appetite and reduces emotional numbing via carbs. If addictive carbohydrate eating is a vulnerability, consider exploring food plans like Bright Line Eating, which some find helpful.
– Reduce overwhelm by working deliberately on meaningful, manageable tasks. Make a daily list with top priorities; focus especially on the one thing that will make the day feel accomplished—often the hardest task first to eliminate dread.
– Resist the urge to endlessly talk about negative things. Constantly retelling complaints reinforces the painful feelings. Sometimes it’s strategic to experiment with not discussing the issue, to let your mood shift and to avoid keeping the hurt active through rumination. This is especially useful when trying to move on after a breakup—cease calls, social media checks, and chatter about the person.
– Ask what you’re avoiding. Much of depression is dread about an unfinished task or a conversation you’re putting off. List what you’re avoiding and identify the next right action. Completing it restores a sense of integrity and momentum.
Finally, do an anonymous kindness for someone each day—something that won’t bring you credit or praise. Acts like a supportive call, returning a neighbor’s bins, dropping coins in an expired meter, or giving a sincere compliment can lift your spirits. When kindness is confidential, the benefit to your mood is often purer and deeper. Practicing generosity, even when motivation is slim, has a ripple effect: the other person’s uplift brightens you, too.
Many common messages about trauma recovery are misleading. Over the years, observing people in many recovery settings revealed patterns: some people transform dramatically, while others remain stuck, despite similar efforts. That observation shaped a practical philosophy about how to heal—one that emphasizes self-direction, common sense, and realistic tools. This approach differs from mainstream mental health practices in several ways; different methods suit different people, but some conventional ideas are limiting or even counterproductive.
Here are eight guiding principles distilled from that work.
Principle 1: Trauma is an injury, not an identity. Symptoms of trauma are not just psychological—they are neurological and physiological. The nervous system, affected by early trauma, influences emotions, hormones, immunity, sleep, appetite, and much more. Early trauma increases the risk for many serious health problems—heart disease, stroke, diabetes, obesity, immune disorders, learning and memory issues, and possibly increased dementia risk. The stakes are real: adult functioning, careers, relationships, and family life suffer when trauma goes untreated. Because of this broad impact, healing matters not only for the individual but for public health and society as a whole. CPTSD can’t be “cured” in the sense of forgetting what happened, but symptoms can be managed and often reversed through changes in daily living and targeted practices—like how chronic conditions are managed with lifestyle and medication. When symptoms return, it’s usually a sign that self-care practices have waned; regular maintenance keeps gains intact.
Principle 2: Dysregulation is nearly universal among traumatized people. Neurological dysregulation—measurable in the brain and bodily signs—shows up as difficulty focusing, irregular or racing heartbeats, clumsiness, emotional overwhelm followed by numbness, and cognitive fog. Traumatic experiences exacerbate both the frequency and intensity of dysregulation and make it harder to recover from it. This dysregulation helps explain why trauma impairs healing and why physical illnesses sometimes worsen in times of emotional crisis. Addressing dysregulation directly—through grounding techniques, physical activity, and other practical tools—often produces dramatic improvements in both mental and physical health.
Principle 3: Dysregulation, disconnection, and self-defeating behavior feed each other. These three dynamics create a destructive cycle: when dysregulated, people disconnect from others, which leads to isolating behaviors that reinforce dysregulation, and that in turn encourages self-defeating choices that deepen suffering. Many therapy approaches focus on narrative and memory without adequately addressing the behaviors that perpetuate harm. Recognizing one’s own role in perpetuating these patterns is uncomfortable but also empowering, because it points to things that can be changed.
Principle 4: Learning to calm triggers is the starting place for breaking the cycle. Triggers are stimuli that set off dysregulation—an immediate surge of emotion and physiological arousal that shuts down reasoning. While it’s tempting to blame other people for “triggering” us, the core work is learning to soothe your own nervous system. Simple practices—intense exercise, left/right cross-body movements, singing or coordinated activity with others, cold or warm sensory stimuli—can reset the nervous system and are often surprisingly effective. These self-managed techniques should be a first-line strategy, and many traditional therapies overlook them. When you can consistently calm your triggers, recovery becomes much more possible.
Principle 5: Conventional approaches often disempower survivors. The power to heal resides in present-moment actions and self-managed symptom care. Giving away agency to professionals, or waiting for someone else to fix things, leaves survivors dependent and often stuck. While professional guidance can be helpful, the day-to-day work of re-regulation and behavior change happens in personal practices. Regaining agency through experimentation, learning, and steady practice builds confidence and real progress.
Principle 6: Character development is essential to recovery. Healing is not only about feeling better— it’s about becoming a person capable of sustaining good relationships and contributing through one’s gifts. Trauma often robs people of moral and relational skills that foster trust and connection. Rebuilding character—responsibility, discernment, integrity—is part of repairing relationships and creating a life in which your talents can flourish. Moral growth isn’t about blame; it’s the path to freedom and meaningful contribution.
Principle 7: Taking your power back matters. Agency—being able to lead your life and make changes—turns you from a passive recipient of treatment into an active healer. Owning your process reduces dependence on imperfect systems and allows you to tailor solutions that actually fit your life. Confidence grows through courageous experimentation and small successes. The old model—talk about the past and wait for the feelings to fade—leaves many people stranded. Instead, be pragmatic: identify symptoms, practice tools to re-regulate, and change behaviors that sabotage your life.
Principle 8: Connection is part of the cure—relationship practice matters. Trauma is relational in origin and is healed, in part, through relationships. Practicing safe, calibrated connection builds the capacity to trust, to apologize, to accept help, and to sustain closeness. Many people with CPTSD need structured practice, like a connection boot camp or guided programs, to relearn how to relate. Most trauma symptoms today are perpetuated not by the original events but by the ongoing self-harm of unhelpful behaviors; repairing those patterns restores the capacity to give and receive love.
This work is pragmatic and iterative. It’s not a one-time fix. Many people in recovery discovered that a combination of daily practices, honest appraisal of their actions, and intentional behavior change created breakthroughs—not endless talking about past hurts. There’s also a clear place for community: practicing skills with peers, supporting one another without endless rehashing of trauma details, and using tools together provides safety and structure. In groups where the focus is on practical change rather than on graphic retelling of abuses, people support each other in learning to regulate, relate, and repair.
Medication and standard talk therapy have their uses but are imperfect for CPTSD. Medication can sometimes blunt the natural capacity to re-regulate, and talk therapy that repeatedly revisits traumatic memories can re-trigger dysregulation unless paired with strong grounding strategies. Many clinicians still lack a thorough understanding of how CPTSD operates neurologically, and treatment approaches vary widely. That variability means survivors must be discerning consumers: notice whether an approach actually helps you feel better and regain function, and be open to trying practical, self-directed methods that restore regulation.
Ultimately, recovery is an ongoing process of small, consistent changes that make life increasingly manageable and meaningful. Healing allows you to accept what happened while moving beyond it, to reclaim suppressed gifts, and to contribute to the world with compassion and competence. Even in the midst of loss, illness, or hardship, lifting your mood a little gives you power to take further steps. It is possible to feel better now and to use that energy to build the life you want—one step at a time. The effort is real, but the payoff is a life where your talents and love can flourish, and where your past does not have the final word.