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Since I’ve started learning more about Buddhist and Taoist practices of releasing shame and control, I’ve been observing my religious trauma coming up.

As I process my religious trauma as a queer person isolated from any non-Christian spaces growing up, I’ve realized more and more that I became a victim to poly abusers because of this religious trauma. Let me explain.

I was forced to follow the preachings of the dominant poly person. I was pressured to evangelize this lifestyle to others as the one true way to “love”.” As abuse, destruction, and virus infiltrated the relationship, I was told to accept it and rid myself of the sin of jealousy.

I think it’s worth mentioning I was groomed as a teen which religious indoctrination primed me for. I was taught that selflessness was the highest form of good and the best thing I could give god was like a dirty rag to him. This indoctrination festered in the back of my mind whispering lies to me. It convinced me nothing I could do would ever be enough. If polyamory had commandments I’m sure they’d include making yourself a servant to people who can never have enough sex, attention, gifts, etc.

I have been so isolated for long but I think I’m beginning to find my way out of it. Honestly, I would count poly/open/“casual” relationships as isolation because I was forced to lock myself up in my own mind to become someone else. I did anything in effort to make myself “lovable”.

I am discovering who I am now as I travel more and see my 2 good friends love each other for 6 years. Seeing 2 young queer people have a loving monogamous relationship for so long gives me hope that if I find someone they will let me be my monogamous self.

The healing from traumatic guilt and shame starts with not reacting to things people say. I do not take every opinion as pressure to prove myself anymore. If anyone else has had this experience please chime in :).

I live in a transient town where everyone ends up leaving or becoming the rot that pollutes the soil we all eat from. My whole life I’ve had almost no sense of self due to childhood trauma.

Im tired of the all or nothing answers like “well those people weren’t meant for you cut them off.” Or “they didn’t mean to hurt you. You need to trust people more.” It feels like either one is wrong. Eventually someone always says or does something hurtful. When I bring it up and gently, carefully set boundaries they disappear or negotiate my boundaries. Most people I meet seem to have no moral compass and just take from people, gossip, and pollute their environment energetically or physically.

I’m tired of walking on eggshells and then being made fun of for the anxiety that comes with it. How do I find my home or chosen family when everyone just drains me? I’ve never lived anywhere else and barely left my city for the 26 years I’ve been alive. I visited a wonderful place with many more people like me. Maybe the universe is showing me it’s time to plan my exit because there’s just nothing here for me but trauma and hurt. I just need a better job.

I have been getting out more and doing stuff I’m interested in like meditation, fundraisers for a wildlife rescue, art festival volunteering, and book clubs. It’s been awesome! People have been very kind and welcoming. However, I’ve noticed it’s almost entirely people 55+. I have no issue with this since I think educated older people have wonderful stories and experiences to share. I am not sure how to go about/ if it would seem weird for me to try to make friends with someone so much older (I’m 26).

I have friends my age but for the most part it’s hard connecting with other Gen Z people. I find my generation can be very hostile towards me for absolutely no reason at times. I’m queer and androgynous so I expected to receive more judgement from older folks, but in progressive spaces older folks are more approachable and better communicators.

If I’m at an event or bar and I approach a table asking to sit in an empty seat or approach someone to compliment their outfit, hair, bag etc, they look at me with disgust. If I’m lucky they may say thank you and then turn back to their friend group. I don’t expect everyone to want to be my friend or be nice but it would be nice to have a normal conversation once in a while with people my age. I don’t interrupt or insert myself physically. I smile and wait until there is a lull in conversation to speak.

I guess I’ve just lived with a lot of hardship and diverse experiences so I do not enjoy talking about day-to-day activities, social media, or the news. I find conversations with Gen Z to be jarring talk of their trauma, war, the political horrors, their mental illness etc. I have a low stress tolerance due to my own trauma, adhd, and autoimmune disorder so I cannot engage in dark conversations with people I just met. It’s not that I’m apathetic politically (I volunteer for a local progressive candidate and I’m an environmental scientist) it’s just that I work very hard to self regulate in a chronically unregulated world What do I do?

I am spiritual myself so in the past we talked about realizations, meditation, and connecting with nature. When I realized my friend with bipolar schizophrenia has spiritual psychosis, I stopped talking about anything I think could worsen the delusions and hallucinations.

I love her dearly but her episodes are extremely stressful for me and I do not know how to help.
I do not believe people have to be medicated unless they have a destabilizing disorder like she does. She will not sleep, barely eat, not clean anything, break things, run into the woods nude, and pick random things to eat. She also quit her job and went homeless for awhile. I hope I do not sound judgmental. I understand some cultures do not acknowledge schizophrenia and I do not want to be insensitive to that.

I am queer myself so I don’t want to discourage anyone from living authentically. My question is, how should I respond if she decides to start hormones? She tends to put random drugs and mushrooms, plants, etc in her body so I’m concerned that this is a decision that could destabilize her. Where I live trans people are classified as “terrorists” by the government for literally just existing so I don’t see her safely and legally obtaining access to hormones any time soon. She’s tried numerous medications that gave her horrible, deadly side effects so she says she only takes an antidepressant. Whenever I’ve visited I always see meds in the trash so I am doubtful she would continue to take them.

“Supposed tos,” without justice doesn’t feel like peace. It feels like I’m taking on more suffering for no reason. I don’t want to be grateful anymore because being pressured into doing what I’m “supposed to” only ever brought me trauma. I’m supposed to let it go, I’m supposed to feel my emotions, I’m suppose to radically accept myself and my circumstances, I’m supposed to not be attached to anything but I am angry and exhausted. There’s no good way to be present and accepting when all I’ve ever known is how to berate myself for not doing what I’m “supposed to.”

It’s like some sick joke because every time I start to feel safe and grateful something horrible happens. It’s always yet another traumatic event that strips something from me. I know what I’m “supposed to” do but moral obligations are ruling my life. It’s like there’s no point to them because I can do everything nearly perfectly and still be punished. The person or animal I tried to help rarely ever benefits either. “Oh but don’t expect a reward,” ok great thanks but at some point I do deserve a few good things I can rely on.

Last weekend I got into a horrible car wreck. Everyone says I am lucky to be alive with only a mild concussion. Great, it’s good to know people prefer me not dead because I didn’t realize I mattered to anyone. However, I’m left with more trauma and lost the car I was so grateful for. I’m sure some people will stop reading here and just assume I’m materialistic and angry but I do not cling to objects like that and rarely show any anger. That car was a symbol of freedom, comfort, and safety given to me during one of the most traumatic periods of my life last year.

“Oh but you’re not supposed to be attached to anything.” How am I supposed to be grateful for anything if I don’t feel attached to it? How am I supposed to enjoy life and be present if I cannot even rely on the things I am grateful for? I’m tired of one-liners, I want actionable steps. I want truth not comfort.

My mom was extremely controlling and neglectful at the same time. She was a reckless drug addict. In her mind, no parent could be better than her.

She would not allow me to go to school with other kids and insisted I only be around Christians. During 3rd and 4th grade I literally taught myself. I aced my end of the year tests. Anything to not be bullied by everyone around me, especially my mom.

She followed us from room to room on the rare occasion I got invited to a birthday party. When I ran cross country in middle school she insisted on being there to do her weird little dance/run work outs. I couldn’t go on sleep overs or overnight trips. As you can imagine, I was the laughing stock of any community I tried to assimilate to.

It was like I was a ghost wandering through the cold echoey halls of my own home, barely acknowledged by anyone in the house until I cooked an entire thanksgiving dinner at 9 or wrote a story or made a card for my chronically ill mother. I have never stopped feeling like I have to earn safety and prove the worth of my existence.

Up until 4 months ago (i’m 26) the bullying persisted nearly everywhere I went. Being chronically ill myself from years of mold exposure, addiction (to be productive in college), and violent living situations post move out, I had to stop doing the things I love.

Recently I found a job with good people. I am accepted for my queerness and my sense of humor is appreciated. I just can’t shake this sense of fear that every breath I take or face I make could be scrutinized. I remember my mom screaming at me for “sighing” as a child when I was struggling with asthma. She constantly told me to “find another mother,” so I became my own.

I have single handedly accomplished more than anyone in my family, but out of spite and self hatred. I spent year after year learning new skills and sharing my humor and creativity with anyone who listened. I can make almost anyone laugh and dedicated my life to helping people and animals. I have so much love in my heart despite everything but it’s just so hard to see that anyone cares about me. No matter how many times someone tells me, I still remember all the people who used those 3 words as a bandaid for the bullet holes they caused.

I got in a car accident yesterday. I was bleeding from my head and almost blacked out. The guy who hit me in a giant truck jumped out and appeared nearly violent. If it weren’t for these 2 wonderful women coming to my rescue, I imagine he could’ve become yet another man to put his hands on me. I could finally see it, 2 women furious for me at this man who cared more about his work truck than a human being.

So now I ask, how do I even begin to assimilate? I’ve done therapy and self live laugh love. I’m a spiritual person with a focus on Buddhism. I know I should not wish it away and I should stop trying to fight these intrusive thoughts, but meditation, exercise, etc only takes the edge off. I have researched the human body, self help, and psychology to the point of self harm so I don’t need the generic “just do this” advice. I’m looking for a mantra or philosophy or something unusual that I can repeat until acceptance and healing is easier.

I can give you the psychology answers: grey rocking, distancing, boundaries, etc.

I understand the concepts behind letting shit go: accepting your thoughts without judgement, meditation etc but that doesn’t just make me stop feeling angry and cheated out of life. They keep coming. The thoughts and the people who suck the life out of me.

See with my illnesses my brain, body, and nervous system are literally damaged. I am exhausted by keeping this sick body from destruction. I am exhausted by the isolation and insecurity that comes from trauma and illness. Having bad days just makes me feel like I can’t trust good days. I can’t trust anything to be good anymore, especially not people it feels like.

I keep doing everything I’m supposed to heal but it’s just become a to-do list of bs to keep me alive. I don’t wanna do it anymore! I just want to exist! It’s so hard for anyone to understand!

The Tao talks about how too much knowledge can be a detriment and the sickness is in wanting the sickness to end. But how do I apply this? Like genuinely I can’t stop seeking answers because I think knowledge will save me but I don’t know how to organize everything.

I need to get this off my chest because it’s been eating at me. People keep putting me into the role of therapist/mommy. Being AFAB, it feels transphobic and misogynistic. It also feels really strange to me when people bring up that I’m “the first non-binary person they’ve slept with because (they) usually sleep with women.”

I’m non-binary and recently met a cis bi guy for what was supposed to be casual sex. I explicitly discussed boundaries multiple times up front: I did not want a situationship, emotional enmeshment, trauma dumping, or blurred lines between casual sex and a relationship. He agreed.

Immediately after hooking up, he started asking me to go on dates and see each other constantly. When I reminded him of my boundaries, he started unloading childhood trauma and talking about his exes and “the one that got away” after I specifically said I was uncomfortable with that. I have cPTSD and explained that vulnerability requires time and trust for me.

He also kept making comments that felt like he was pushing the misogynistic ideal of women being in competition with other women over a guy. Again, I am not a woman and do not want to be measured by cis woman beauty standards At one point he talked about “the hottest girl he ever met” finally liking him after he had a “glow up.” When I calmly told him it made me feel insecure and negged, he responded with “I like non-traditional faces.” It honestly crushed me and felt misogynistic. I’m not a woman, but he repeatedly pushed me into this role where I felt like I was being measured against cis women and expected to absorb these weird frat-boy comparisons and insecurities.

A week later I had a panic attack partly because I felt constantly destabilized by mixed signals and comparison. He invited himself over after I said I was panicking. I agreed because I was overwhelmed and didn’t know what to do. I opened up a little about not having support and struggling lately, and he immediately started bringing up exes again after promising not to.

Then during sex he put the condom on upside down, flipped it around, and later asked about taking it off entirely after repeatedly talking about how afraid he was of STDs because he was in his “slut era.” Later he told me he had recently gotten drunk and received unprotected oral sex from someone else and might need antibiotics. I felt physically and emotionally unsafe.

When I later tried to calmly explain why I was hurt, he told me to “keep it light” because I “have a lot of trauma” and he felt like he was “walking on eggshells.” He framed basic consideration for my boundaries as me being difficult.

Eventually I wrote him a thoughtful message explaining how confused and hurt I felt. In that note I even said that maybe if he genuinely went to therapy and developed more self-awareness, I’d consider speaking to him again someday. I honestly expected that to mean a very long time because of how little accountability he showed.

Instead, his response was basically that he had “lost interest,” that I seemed shallow because I didn’t want to go on dates anymore, and more justification for why he thought his behavior was acceptable. He even admitted he had discussed me with his neighbor before rejecting me. Then he kept messaging me defending himself instead of acknowledging the impact any of this had on me.

What hurts most is realizing how quickly I slipped into the therapist/caretaker role again. I cooked for him, listened to him, reassured him, explained myself endlessly, and still got treated like I was unstable or “too much” for wanting consistency and respect.

I ignored my own discomfort over and over because I kept thinking maybe he just misunderstood me. Now I mostly feel angry at myself for abandoning my instincts and trying so hard to be patient with someone who kept pushing every boundary I set.

Has anyone else dealt with this pattern in dating where people trauma dump onto you, push boundaries, then frame you as difficult for reacting? How did you stop abandoning yourself just to be “understanding”?

I guess my question is, what mindset, mantra, or unusual techniques help you overcome PTSD from a traumatic job while you’re at work?

Currently I have a pretty good job but I cannot shake the PTSD from my job last year. It was horrific. I almost died from it and had no one to help. They ended up firing me with no explanation. If I had to guess it would be because I was so sick I had to go to urgent care all the time. My office was full of mold and I developed Lyme disease, mono, and Covid. I nearly blacked out all the time because my inhalers could not help. Own woman started spraying air freshener outside my office when she realized I was sick. It was so intense other people started coughing and complaining. I had little to no training from a neurotic woman who criticized me for things she never taught me. Frankly, she didn’t even know how to answer client’s questions. I ended up working 3 people’s jobs because 1 quit and the other straight up said she didn’t wanna deal with the increase in workload. My boss would literally type up a script criticizing everything I ever did wrong, including things she assumed about me because I was so ill. She could not even give me an example on some things I “did wrong”. Not to mention the people around me yelled threats at each other and shook my office with their loud music.

So now, at my new job, every time I make a mistake, someone walks behind me,or my boss asks to talk to me (usually out of consideration) I literally panic. I spend hours having racing thoughts about every possible way I could be fired or every possible thing I could’ve done “wrong” down to if I made the wrong facial expressions. The feeling lasts in my body from the minute I come in till the minute I leave.

When I ask how to handle it, I know physically what to do; I’ve actually spent years reading everything I possibly could on how to heal PTSD psychologically, physically, and spiritually. The problem is being stuck in one place with racing throughts. I have a standing desk and get up to walk around a lot but the thoughts keep coming. I know I’m supposed to just “let them pass and not judge them.” I know about box breathing and grounding. I know about meditation and EMDR therapy. I could go on.

I am feeling so angry and stuck again and am wondering how others handle this.

I feel like my nervous system is waking up to how betrayed I feel by trying to force myself to forgive people who aren’t sorry. I was trained to turn the other cheek when people abused me from childhood onward so I learned to erase myself.

Every spiritual book I’ve read tells me to forgive and empathize with my enemies but this is what narcissists tell their victims. Pls don’t tell me “forgiveness is for you.” There is a lot of literature on how harmful that is for victims of abuse. I’ve encountered this cycle many times but I don’t think I can live laugh love myself out of this one.

Edit: wow a lot of wonderful responses! Thank you! I am working through reading them all. Please feel free to continue sharing your wisdom! I love the depth and variety of perspectives! I think I intuitively understood these things when reading text but everyone is helping me remember them in a way that I can apply. It gets really overwhelming trying to apply everything without someone to help break it down, especially when my thoughts are racing and I just shame myself for not being able to let it go. I appreciate everyone taking the time.
I don’t have anyone who would understand this in person (yes I have a therapist but I cannot afford him anymore) so it’s really helping me remember who I am and pulling me out of a dark place.

It is a necessity sometimes but I find that wearing them worsens my fungal “acne” (it’s not really acne just looks like it) and makes it feel like fire ants are crawling all over my face. Masks also dry out my mouth and worsen my dental pain.

I am allergic to whatever the N95 material is; it literally gave me hives. I try layering 3 of the cotton ones or polyester sometimes in situations like bathrooms with intense air freshener but it doesn’t keep smells out. I think maybe cotton is the least itchy but the least protective.

Until I was ready to face the past versions of myself I was ashamed of, I kept meeting them. I kept meeting people who were embodiments of behavior that kept me sick, like trauma dumping. It made me realize how it kept me reliving it and created a false sense of closeness with people who harmed me. I also realized how it kept away self-regulated people.

I have done an obsessive amount of research trying to “fix” myself. During the pandemic I became obsessed with finding some groundbreaking knowledge that would fix me forever. I began reading up on Buddhism, Taoism, Wicca, paganism, satanism, shamanism, philosophy, neuroscience, psychology, and self help.

Last year I became incredibly sick with many illnesses that almost killed me. However, I do not believe I would’ve ever broken the karmic cycles drilled into me since I was born if I had not gotten sick. The illnesses were due to a traumatic job at the time. Doctors couldn’t help me because I couldn’t get out of the environment that was making me sick. Every minute of my day became dedicated to trying to suffer just a little less. I developed an autoimmune disorder that affects every major organ in my body as well as my bones and joints as a result.

I could not walk, could not breathe, could not sleep, could not eat much, and relied on my abusers to take care of me. It was the ugliest form of psychic attack; lying awake being tortured by nothing but excruciating pain and CPTSD flashbacks. However, I truly believe “the shaman sickness” healed me because I accepted that I could not control the situation. Therefore I do not need to be fixed; I need to heal.

The difference I feel now when I connect with source during a flare of symptoms is incredible. Asthma attacks cease, hives go away, I stop feeling like vomiting. And people who disturb my peace cause those symptoms.

Recently I’ve come across several people who seemed safe online but ended up being psychic attacks on my fragile nervous system once I met them in person. I immediately recognized the past versions of myself in them. I immediately understood the ways my past selves were created to protect me from my abusers.
So I have to ask if anyone is at a point where people who trigger your trauma literally feel like an attack on the nervous system. It’s like I’m being electrocuted while they twist my organs until they stop talking and leave me. Then I can feel the rhythm in my body at peace.

Until I was ready to face the past versions of myself I was ashamed of, I kept meeting them. I kept meeting people who were embodiments of behavior that kept me sick, like trauma dumping. It made me realize how it kept me reliving it and created a false sense of closeness with people who harmed me. I also realized how it kept away self-regulated people.

I have done an obsessive amount of research trying to “fix” myself. During the pandemic I became obsessed with finding some groundbreaking knowledge that would fix me forever. I began reading up on Buddhism, Taoism, Wicca, paganism, satanism, shamanism, philosophy, neuroscience, psychology, and self help.

Last year I became incredibly sick with many illnesses that almost killed me. However, I do not believe I would’ve ever broken the karmic cycles drilled into me since I was born if I had not gotten sick. The illnesses were due to a traumatic job at the time. Doctors couldn’t help me because I couldn’t get out of the environment that was making me sick. Every minute of my day became dedicated to trying to suffer just a little less. I developed an autoimmune disorder that affects every major organ in my body as well as my bones and joints as a result.

I could not walk, could not breathe, could not sleep, could not eat much, and relied on my abusers to take care of me. It was the ugliest form of psychic attack; lying awake being tortured by nothing but excruciating pain and CPTSD flashbacks. However, I truly believe “the shaman sickness” healed me because I accepted that I could not control the situation. Therefore I do not need to be fixed; I need to heal.

The difference I feel now when I connect with source during a flare of symptoms is incredible. Asthma attacks cease, hives go away, I stop feeling like vomiting. And people who disturb my peace cause those symptoms.

Recently I’ve come across several people who seemed safe online but ended up being psychic attacks on my fragile nervous system once I met them in person. I immediately recognized the past versions of myself in them. I immediately understood the ways my past selves were created to protect me from my abusers.
So I have to ask if anyone is at a point where people who trigger your trauma literally feel like an attack on the nervous system. It’s like I’m being electrocuted while they twist my organs until they stop talking and leave me. Then I can feel the rhythm in my body at peace.

Until I was ready to face the past versions of myself I was ashamed of, I kept meeting them. I kept meeting people who were embodiments of behavior that kept me sick, like trauma dumping. It made me realize how it kept me reliving it and created a false sense of closeness with people who harmed me. I also realized how it kept away self-regulated people.

I have done an obsessive amount of research trying to “fix” myself. During the pandemic I became obsessed with finding some groundbreaking knowledge that would fix me forever. I began reading up on Buddhism, Taoism, Wicca, paganism, satanism, shamanism, philosophy, neuroscience, psychology, and self help.

Last year I became incredibly sick with many illnesses that almost killed me. However, I do not believe I would’ve ever broken the karmic cycles drilled into me since I was born if I had not gotten sick. The illnesses were due to a traumatic job at the time. Doctors couldn’t help me because I couldn’t get out of the environment that was making me sick. Every minute of my day became dedicated to trying to suffer just a little less. I developed an autoimmune disorder that affects every major organ in my body as well as my bones and joints as a result.

I could not walk, could not breathe, could not sleep, could not eat much, and relied on my abusers to take care of me. It was the ugliest form of psychic attack; lying awake being tortured by nothing but excruciating pain and CPTSD flashbacks. However, I truly believe “the shaman sickness” healed me because I accepted that I could not control the situation. Therefore I do not need to be fixed; I need to heal.

The difference I feel now when I connect with source during a flare of symptoms is incredible. Asthma attacks cease, hives go away, I stop feeling like vomiting. And people who disturb my peace cause those symptoms.

Recently I’ve come across several people who seemed safe online but ended up being psychic attacks on my fragile nervous system once I met them in person. I immediately recognized the past versions of myself in them. I immediately understood the ways my past selves were created to protect me from my abusers.
So I have to ask if anyone is at a point where people who trigger your trauma literally feel like an attack on the nervous system. It’s like I’m being electrocuted while they twist my organs until they stop talking and leave me. Then I can feel the rhythm in my body at peace.

I don’t know if this has always been a thing or if it’s just gotten worse because of Covid and social media, but I’ve been realizing almost every single person I’ve met takes every moment they can to trauma dump without warning. I stopped going on social media because of how normal it was. Everytime I logged in some ad was telling me if I scrolled a child would die or if I didn’t watch every traumatic event that it made me a bad person. All it did was confirm my greatest fear: “nothing you do will ever be enough.”

Since I almost died from numerous illnesses that left me with an autoimmune disorder from my last traumatizing job, my personality has drastically changed. I no longer accept conversations, attitudes, events, situations, etc that trigger me. (When I say triggered i don’t just mean a panic attack that passes in an hour I mean my entire body becomes inflamed and my nervous system feels like it’s on fire/being electrocuted which can last for days.) I invested every minute I could into learning about philosophy, neuroscience, psychology, therapy, and healing to the point of self harm for not being able to heal myself. As a result I am incredibly lonely. It’s incredibly difficult to find people who genuinely seem to be seeking healing rather than expecting others to heal them.

During my first 2 years of mold exposure I was exercising intensely up until the week before I was rushed to the ER and put on O2. I must’ve hit my inhaler 6 times in a row just to get halfway through a workout. I would go home and black out. I am just that determined to not feel weak and vulnerable. Still, with my chronic illness I try to eat healthy, exercise the best I can, cook, clean, volunteer and invest in my hobbies.

My illness is Mast Cell Activation Syndrome which basically means I overproduce histamines. As a result I have chronic inflammation in every part of my body resulting in chronic pain in my joints, bone loss, frequent infections, IBS, ADHD, hives, severe often untreatable asthma, debilitating anxiety to the point of near constant feelings of imminent terror/death, chronic fatigue, headaches, cardiovascular issues, and more.

STILL despite my illness and the abuse that spanned 22 years of my 26 yr life, I put every ounce of my being into showing loving kindness to all living things. I put every ounce of myself into accepting the things I cannot control and yet i still feel full of rage; even if I never show it.

I learned from a young age that setting boundaries and expressing emotions contrary to the group will isolate you. Now I know it’s worth it but it doesn’t change the loneliness.