PTSD and Trauma

Exercises & Practices

Is This Me?

These questions aren't a diagnosis. They're an invitation to notice. If any of them feel overwhelming, set them aside and return to them with a counselor or trusted person.

• Do you have trouble sleeping — not just occasional restlessness, but a pattern of nightmares, waking in the middle of the night, or dreading bedtime because of what your mind does when it's quiet?

• Are you always scanning? Walking into a room and checking the exits, sitting with your back to the wall, noticing every sound — as if some part of you is on guard duty all the time?

• Do your emotions feel like they only have two settings — nothing at all, or way too much — with very little in between?

• Has your world gotten smaller? Are there places you used to go, people you used to see, or things you used to do that you've quietly dropped because something about them feels like too much?

• Do you have reactions that feel way out of proportion to what's actually happening — a door slams and your whole system goes to war, someone raises their voice and you're gone?

• Do you deal with stomach problems, headaches, chest tightness, or other physical symptoms that doctors can't fully explain?

• Do you find it hard to concentrate, plan ahead, or follow through on things — not because you don't care, but because your brain feels like it's running in too many directions at once?

• Do you sometimes feel disconnected from the people around you — like everyone else is living in one world and you're watching it from behind glass?

• Have you been numbing with alcohol, food, screens, or anything else that quiets the noise — and finding you need more of it to get the same relief?

Questions Worth Sitting With

These don't have quick answers. Sit with them.

• What would it be like if your body finally knew — really knew, all the way down — that the danger was over?

• What parts of yourself did you lose access to? Was it your creativity? Your joy? Your ability to be spontaneous, to trust, to let someone get close?

• Is there something you've never been able to say out loud about what happened to you — not the details, but what it cost you?

• What would it mean to believe that you're not broken — that your system is actually working the way it's supposed to after what it went through?

• Who would you need to trust enough to let them see what's really going on inside you — not the managed version, but the real one?

• What would your life look like if the alarm finally turned off — if you could walk through a day without bracing for the next threat?

• What have you been numbing or avoiding that might actually be trying to tell you something important?

• Dr. Cloud talks about the "North Pole jacket" — defenses that made sense when you needed them but cost you now. What jacket are you still wearing? What would it feel like to take it off?

Growth Practices

These are not trauma treatment. They're small, safe steps toward awareness. Pick one. Try it this week. Notice what happens. If anything feels overwhelming, stop — that information is valuable too.

Week 1: Notice Your Body Once a day, stop what you're doing. Take two slow breaths in through your nose. Then ask yourself three questions: What is my body feeling right now? Where am I feeling it? What might it be telling me? You don't have to do anything with what you notice. Just notice. This is the beginning of reconnecting your thinking brain with your body.

Week 2: Map Your Triggers Start a simple list of moments when your system activates — heart racing, chest tightening, sudden anger, the urge to flee or shut down. Don't judge them. Just write: what happened, what you felt in your body, what you did next. After a week, look at the list. Patterns will emerge. These patterns are valuable information for a therapist.

Week 3: Let One Person In Choose one safe person. You don't have to share details of what happened. Just let them know you're carrying something heavy. You might say: "I've been struggling with some things I haven't talked about. I'm not ready to explain it all, but I wanted you to know." Notice what it feels like to be known — even a little.

Week 4: Practice Grounding When you feel yourself getting activated, try the 5-4-3-2-1 technique: name five things you can see, four you can touch, three you can hear, two you can smell, one you can taste. This isn't a cure — it's a way to remind your nervous system that you're here, now, not there, then. Practice it when you're calm so it's available when you need it.

Week 5: Take the Next Step Look up trauma-specialized therapists in your area. Check Psychology Today's therapist finder (filter by PTSD/trauma), or the EMDR International Association directory (emdria.org). You don't have to call yet. Just have a name and number ready. Removing the barrier of "I wouldn't even know where to start" is itself a step toward healing.

Scenario Cards

Scenario 1: The Holiday Dinner Your family is gathering for the holidays at the house where something happened to you years ago. Everyone expects you to be there. You haven't told anyone why you dread it. Last year you went and spent the evening dissociated — smiling on the outside, gone on the inside. This year, someone asks if you're bringing dessert.

What would you do? What does your body feel as you imagine it? What would it look like to honor what you need without having to explain everything?

Scenario 2: The Unexpected Trigger You're at a friend's house having a normal evening. Someone drops something heavy in the kitchen and the crash sends your whole system into overdrive — heart pounding, vision narrowing, the urge to leave immediately. Your friend looks at you and says, "Whoa, are you okay? It was just a pan."

What's happening in your nervous system? What would help in this moment? What would you want your friend to understand?

Scenario 3: The Well-Meaning Advice A close friend knows you've been struggling. Over coffee, they say: "I've been reading about trauma and I really think you just need to face it head-on. Have you tried journaling about it? My cousin did that and she's totally fine now. I think if you just stopped avoiding it, you'd feel so much better."

What do you notice about your reaction — the impulse to explain, to agree, to shut down? What's the difference between what your friend is suggesting and what actual healing requires? What could you say?

Journaling & Reflection

Looking Back

• What happened to you wasn't supposed to happen. Have you ever allowed yourself to simply name that — without explaining it away, minimizing it, or trying to find a reason?

• What have you been told about your struggle — by others or by yourself — that added shame to what was already painful? ("You should be over this by now." "It wasn't that bad." "If you had more faith...")

• Write about what your life was like before — before the trauma, before the symptoms, before the world felt unsafe. What do you miss most? What do you want back?

Looking Inward

• Where in your body do you carry what happened? Tension, stomach problems, headaches, chest tightness, numbness. What might your body be trying to tell you?

• What defenses have you been carrying that made sense when you needed them but are costing you now? What are they protecting you from — and what are they keeping you from?

• Write a letter to the part of yourself that's been carrying the burden of staying on guard. Thank it for protecting you. Tell it that you're working on finding safety so it can finally rest.

Looking Forward

• If healing meant the alarm in your brain could finally turn off — not that you'd forget what happened, but that it would lose its power over your present — what would that change about how you live?

• What would you need in order to take the next step toward getting help? What's the barrier — fear, shame, money, not knowing where to start?

• Dr. Cloud healed from his own trauma. Abuse survivors become therapists. Veterans find peace. Is it possible to believe that healing is available for you too? What would it take to believe it?