The Complex PTSD Treatment Manual Ebk086775
The Complex PTSD Treatment Manual Ebk086775
The Complex PTSD Treatment Manual Ebk086775
“Arielle Schwartz has written THE guidebook for clinicians seeking to understand
complex PTSD and how to treat it! On every page, she interweaves up-to-date
theoretical ideas with practical clinical wisdom. Every word of this book can easily
be implemented by therapists regardless of their training or approach.”
— Janina Fisher, PhD,
Author of Transforming the Living Legacy of Trauma
“Dr. Schwartz’s book is likely to be a big help to clients and also to therapists who treat individuals with
severely traumatic life histories. It is very readable and accessible. Reading it gives a feeling of being in a
conversation with Dr. Schwartz. The chapters give many examples of how cognitive behavioral therapy, somatic
experiencing, and EMDR can be successfully integrated in therapy preparation, diagnostic assessment, and
treatment planning. It also includes many transcripts of therapy sessions, which illustrate with clarity how
particular interventions can be effectively used. This book is a significant contribution to our developing
knowledge of the best ways to treat complex PTSD and dissociative conditions.”
—Jim Knipe, PhD
Author of EMDR Toolbox: Theory and Treatment of Complex
PTSD and Dissociation
“Dr. Schwartz guides us into a field of healing practices and possibilities founded in a resilient-informed
approach. She offers portals into the untold and hidden stories of pain that live in the nervous system and
the biology of people affected by chronic traumatization. She reminds us of the power and strength that lay
at the core of human existence and put us in touch with our inner capacities. The Complex PTSD Treatment
Manual is a rich, comprehensive, well-integrated, and immensely useful masterpiece that will support child
and adult therapists working with C-PTSD in bringing healing to generations!”
—Ana M. Gomez, MC, LPC
Author of EMDR Therapy and Adjunct Approaches with Children
“Arielle Schwartz does it again, delivering clinicians a practical volume full of useful skills with her uncanny
ability to translate complex neurological concepts into relatable language. I am especially impressed with
the sensitivity and humanity that she employs in addressing parts work and dissociation. This is a marvelous
foundational volume on complex trauma that I will be very happy to recommend to my students.”
—Dr. Jamie Marich
The Institute for Creative Mindfulness
Author of EMDR Made Simple, Trauma Made Simple
“Dr. Arielle Schwartz has done it again. A thorough explanation of the reasons complex trauma exists, how
it expresses itself in behaviors, and what treatment entails. An important foundation for therapists treating
complex trauma. Knowing these foundational insights will make treatment easier and more effective.”
—Annie Brook, PhD
Founder of The Brook Institute, Author of Birth’s Hidden Legacy
“Arielle Schwartz has crafted an up-to-date synthesis of many of the best practices of the evolving science of
resolving complex PTSD. This highly practical treatment manual is an essential guide for beginner therapists
and a useful summary for seasoned clinicians. Bravo!”
—Will Van Derveer, MD
Cofounder of the Integrative Psychiatry Institute
“The Complex PTSD Treatment Manual is a must-have for any mental health professional who treats complex
trauma. In this manual, Dr. Arielle Schwartz seamlessly integrates components of several evidence-based
therapeutic modalities for the treatment of complex trauma and provides clinicians with concrete tools and
techniques that help clients improve emotion regulation and attunement, process traumatic events, and
ultimately regain their lives and sense of connection. Dr. Schwartz’s compassionate, scientific, and client-
centered approach to C-PTSD makes her a rare and valued voice in the field of trauma psychology!”
“The Complex PTSD Treatment Manual is an essential masterpiece for any clinician working in the fields of
trauma, complex PTSD, and mind-body medicine. Integrative health providers will love it. Woven into the
academic rigor of this masterpiece are practical healing practices and embodied exercises for the lucky reader.
It is the perfect balance between a personal transformation roadmap and a scholarly treasure. Dr. Schwartz
takes us on a highly attuned and compassionate journey through multiple trauma-healing modalities and
presents them in a user-friendly, practical way. The psychological needs arising at this post-pandemic juncture
are different than they’ve ever been, and this will surely be your indispensable reference book for years to
come. This book is a must-have!”
—Dr. Ilene Naomi Rusk, Integrative Trauma Therapist and Clinical Neuropsychologist
Director at The Healthy Brain Program, Brain & Behavior Clinic
The
COMPLEX
PTSD
Treatment Manual
An Integrative, Mind-Body
Approach to Trauma Recovery
ISBN: 9781683733799
All rights reserved.
Printed in the United States of America
For the purpose of protecting clients’ privacy and confidentiality, all identifying
details have been removed from the clinical vignettes shared within this book.
pesipublishing.com
About the Author
Acknowledgments ��������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������� xi
8 Reprocessing the Past with Cognitive Behavioral and EMDR Therapies ���������� 123
All books come about as a team effort. I am so grateful for the support I have received from my
beloved family. Thank you to my husband, Bruce Feistner, for your trust in my vision and for
giving me ample time to carry it forward into the world. Thank you to my children, Eliana and
Ian, for all of the ways that you inspire me with your joy and laughter. You fill my world with
light. Thank you to Carolyn Schwartz and Victor Goldman for believing in me and for tirelessly
standing by my side. You have taught me what is possible when we are fully loved and accepted
for who we are.
A book can be thought of as a legacy, a meaningful contribution to the world that lives on after
us. Within these pages, I give you the best synthesis of my current knowledge and experiences as a
psychologist and trauma treatment specialist. The inspiration for this writing has come as a result of
many years of personal growth and study. I gratefully honor the wise teachers, authors, and healers
whose work has influenced the theories and practices that have shaped this book. Most directly, I am
appreciative of Betty Cannon, whose existential and relational tutelage has shaped my personal and
professional world more than any other. Thank you to my colleague and friend, Barb Maiberger, for
the spark in your eyes when you recognized that I had more books in me. Through our many years of
teaching together, we were able to develop an integrative curriculum that brings the wisdom of parts
work therapy into somatically informed EMDR therapy. I am grateful to Jim Knipe for providing
my EMDR therapy consultation and for imparting to me your wisdom gained from many years of
providing support for individuals with C-PTSD.
My somatic psychology roots were nourished by Christine Caldwell and Susan Aposhyan. Not
only were you my first teachers of body centered psychotherapy at Naropa University, but you also
nurtured my role as a teacher in this field. Less directly, this book rests upon the foundation of
influential leaders in the field. Namely, Daniel Siegel, Pat Ogden, Kekuni Minton, Janina Fisher,
Bonnie Badenoch, Kathy Steele, Bessel van der Kolk, Stephen Porges, Allan Schore, Deb Dana,
Babette Rothschild, Francine Shapiro, Robin Shapiro, Richard Schwartz, Jon Kabat-Zinn, Eugene
Gendlin, Viktor Frankl, and Rollo May. Your books and teachings are legacies that have shaped
me in countless ways.
I am deeply grateful for my team at PESI Publishing. It has been an honor to work with you:
Karsyn Morse, Jenessa Jackson, and Kate Sample. Like trusted midwives, you have helped me to
birth this book into reality. I have felt completely supported along the way.
I am deeply grateful to my clients. Thank you for trusting me with your hearts. You are wonderful
teachers who have helped me grow as a person. Finally, I am grateful to the many therapists who have
allowed me to be their mentor and teacher. Your commitment to serving your clients and desire to
cultivate excellence in trauma treatment inspires me daily and is the reason for this book.
Introduction
Many mental health practitioners are trained in the treatment of single traumatic events and the
diagnosis of post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD). However, more often, our clients come to
therapy with an extensive history of trauma that begins in childhood and continues into adulthood
with layers of personal, relational, societal, or cultural losses. This is complex PTSD (C-PTSD),
a diagnostic term that accounts for the consequences of repeated or chronic traumatization. In
some cases, this form of trauma begins in early childhood when individuals experience repeated
abuse or profound neglect, though C-PTSD also arises as a result of ongoing social stress, such as
racialized trauma, living in poverty, or growing up in a war-torn country.
Individuals with C-PTSD often feel overwhelmed by their pain and have organized their sense of
self around survival. Their wounds might sound like:
• “I was physically abused as a kid. Now I have chronic health problems and pain. Sometimes
I hope I’ll die in my sleep.”
• “It was never safe in my home. I watched my father hurt my mother again and again. My
first memory was when he tried to choke her. I was only three. It was my job to take care of
her.”
• “I have grown up with a persistent feeling of fear and anger. As a Black American, I can’t
just drive my car or walk into a store without feeling on guard. I have to be vigilant about
my surroundings. I have never known what it feels like to be ‘safe.’”
• “My parents were survivors of the Holocaust. I can still remember the emptiness and fear in
their eyes. They lost everything. Now I feel lost. Sometimes I just disappear.”
• “I was raised in a cult where I was sexually abused. I survived by pretending that I was part
of their world. Now I don’t know what is true, whom to trust, or who I am.”
• “My childhood was ‘fine,’ but no one really took the time to understand me. Now I feel so
utterly alone in the world.”
• “I grew up afraid for my life. Now I have lost my country. I am a refugee. I can never go
home again. Each day I worry about the family that I have left behind.”
It is common for individuals with complex trauma to have been in therapy for many years.
They may feel cautious about therapy because of historical experiences where they have been
misunderstood, misdiagnosed, or blamed for their symptoms. They may come to therapy
reluctantly, with well-constructed defenses and somatic tension that serve as armor to protect
them from underlying terror, helplessness, and shame. Some tread water in a sea of chronic
overwhelm. They may struggle to sleep at night due to their heightened sensitivity to perceived
threats and reliance on primitive survival instincts to defend themselves. Others have had to
disconnect from their body and emotions altogether. For most, these protective behaviors have
been necessary for their survival, and they will not surrender these sources of protection easily.
xiv The Complex PTSD Treatment Manual
Clients who have survived persistent and chronic traumatization are savvy, and they will sense
if we lack authenticity or genuineness in our approach to therapy. It is our job to earn their trust,
which is a task that can be challenging, especially if they have experienced betrayal in previous
relationships. However, if we do our jobs well, we might be given a sacred task: to bear witness
to their suffering and attend compassionately to their wounds.
This book invites you to see these individuals for the incredible strength they carry within
them. They are not “broken”; they are hurt and in need of empathy and compassion. Empathy
reflects your ability to understand their perspective and stand in their shoes. Compassion involves
your desire to be of service in relieving their suffering. The approach to treatment offered in this
book will guide you to become this trustworthy companion so you can help guide a healing journey
for another human soul. Therapy is always a combination of head and heart, of science and art.
My hope is that this manual helps you to find the intersection of intuition and evidence-based
treatment that allows you to openheartedly engage in this richly transformational interpersonal
process. Not only will this approach help your clients, but it invites you to be willing to grow and
change as well. In truth, many of us have become therapists because of our own wounds. We have
had to walk our own healing journey because of the events we have faced in childhood or at other
points in our lives. If left unaddressed, our own trauma can interfere with our work with clients.
However, once addressed, these life experiences can provide a foundation for the compassionate
presence that we offer to our clients.
The integrative, mind-body strategies presented here will allow you to effectively work with
clients who have experienced multiple traumatic events and prolonged trauma exposure. These
strategies are grounded within an approach to trauma treatment that is both strength-based and
resilience-informed. A strength-based approach emphasizes our inherent capacity to heal from
trauma when we have sufficient access to resources and support. A resilience-informed approach
to care maintains that every human being has an intrinsic drive toward wholeness once those
resources and supports are in place. Within these pages, you will learn essential healing practices
drawn from relational therapy, mindful body awareness, parts work therapy, cognitive behavioral
therapy (CBT), eye movement desensitization and reprocessing (EMDR), somatic psychology,
and complementary and alternative medicine (CAM). While this book provides guidance on
the integration of these modalities into trauma treatment, it is recommended that you seek
further training, consultation, or supervision on any modality that is outside of your area of
competence as a clinician.
Chapter 1 begins by distinguishing a diagnosis of C-PTSD from traditional PTSD and other
diagnoses, such as mood, anxiety, personality, or dissociative disorders. It also explores the etiology
of C-PTSD with attention to socio-developmental and cultural contexts. For example, I examine
the significance of clients’ early childhood history while also attending to the impact of chronic
social disconnections that arise as a result of discrimination related to race, ethnicity, sex, gender,
religion, age, or able-bodiedness. This chapter also emphasizes how to explore diagnosis and assess
symptoms, as well as how to build a foundation of safety.
Chapter 2 elucidates the theoretical foundations of this integrative, mind-body approach, which
is based on common factors research (Wampold, 2015), phased-based treatment recommendations
for C-PTSD (Courtois & Ford, 2009; Herman, 1997; Schwartz, 2016), and the neurophysiology
of trauma recovery (van der Kolk, 2014). I explore why the traditional approach to PTSD
Introduction xv
treatment—which involves directly targeting traumatic memories—can backfire with clients who
have C-PTSD and discuss treatment modifications.
Chapter 3 describes the impact of chronic traumatic stress on the nervous system through the
lens of polyvagal theory (Porges, 2011). Since C-PTSD is associated with dysregulation of the
autonomic nervous system (ANS), the healing practices in this section focus on identifying
symptoms of hyper- or hypo-arousal and strengthening clients’ “social engagement system,” which
can enhance their sense of safety and connection.
Chapter 4 focuses on the role of the therapeutic relationship within the treatment of complex
trauma. The greatest predictor of meaningful change in clients with C-PTSD is the quality of
the therapeutic alliance (Pearlman & Courtois, 2005). Furthermore, mutual or co-regulation is a
precursor for the development of self-regulation (Schore, 2019). This means that experiences of
being understood and unconditionally accepted by another enhance our capacity to hold ourselves
in a loving and compassionate manner. As therapists, we must attend to our own relational
and attachment wounds, which, if left unaddressed, can interfere with our work with clients.
The practices in this chapter focus on co-regulation and helping you, as the therapist, explore
therapeutic relational dynamics that evoke discomfort, anxiety, or insecurity.
Chapter 6 provides an application of parts work therapy to C-PTSD with particular attention
to dissociative symptoms. This chapter guides you through an integrative model of parts work
that involves introducing clients to parts work, helping them identify and deepen their awareness
of parts, anchoring the adult self, differentiating from a part, developing allies for a part, and
repairing a missing experience. The practices offered in this chapter aim to help clients cultivate
compassion so they can turn toward their painful past with greater care.
Chapter 7 focuses on the body in trauma treatment through the lens of somatic psychology. For many
individuals with C-PTSD, building body awareness can initially be uncomfortable because many have
difficulty staying present with their sensations, either because they feel flooded and overwhelmed, or
numb and disconnected. In alignment with a phase-based approach to care, somatic psychology offers
resources that can increase our clients’ felt sense of safety. Once these resources are in place, awareness
of somatic tension can guide clients to access the healing power of movement, which can help them
resolve traumatic wounds from the past and empower them in the present.
Chapter 8 focuses on memory reprocessing through the lens of cognitive behavioral and EMDR
therapies. This process involves purposefully reflecting on a traumatic memory within a trustworthy
and safe environment. In doing so, we give clients an opportunity to confront the past while
simultaneously integrating new, positive information that reduces the feeling of threat associated
with traumatic memories. As applied to clients with C-PTSD and dissociative symptoms, this model
xvi The Complex PTSD Treatment Manual
involves building positive resources, reflecting on traumatic events using cognitive reappraisal, and
safely reprocessing traumatic memories using dual-awareness strategies.
Chapter 9 focuses on the use of CAM to support trauma recovery, including bodywork, nutrition
therapy, acupuncture, and yoga. This chapter explores the benefits of helping clients develop
integrative healthcare teams to respond to the impact of trauma on both mental and physical
health. The healing practices in this chapter will help you and your client identify healthcare
goals and work through barriers that might inhibit them from exercising, eating healthily, or
engaging in relaxation techniques on a regular basis. Moreover, you will learn a series of yoga-
based interventions that you can easily integrate into psychotherapy.
Finally, chapter 10 focuses on the third phase of trauma recovery: helping clients work through
lingering feelings of anger, resentment, and sadness so they can cultivate a feeling of hope for
the future. This concluding chapter explores topics of meaning, resilience, and post-traumatic
growth.
Now that you know what to expect in this book, I invite you to pause and reflect upon your own
work with your clients. It is a courageous choice to work with individuals who have suffered
from trauma. To work in this realm asks that you bear witness to human suffering, a process that
often involves confronting your own fears or unhealed wounds. While working with traumatized
individuals is not easy, it is important to learn how to enter this difficult terrain without feeling
vicariously traumatized. It is possible for you and your clients to come away from therapy feeling
stronger and more resilient.
However, I imagine that you, like all therapists, have moments when you feel stuck with at least one
particular client. There have likely been times when you feel that nothing you did made a difference.
While frustrating, these experiences are common when working with individuals who have suffered
from repeated traumatic events and extensive interpersonal wounds or betrayals. At these times,
it is important to have supportive resources who can help you reflect upon these challenges. You
can probably recall times when you reviewed a difficult case with a supervisor and discovered new
perspectives and ways to help clients move through an impasse. While this book cannot replace
supervision, I hope that you will allow the guidance in these pages to serve as a form of mentorship
as you accompany your clients into the painful territory of their traumatic past.
Throughout this book, you will find healing practices, reflection exercises,
and clinical resources that you are welcome to reproduce. They are also
available for download at www.pesi.com/cptsd.
1
Understanding Trauma
and Complex PTSD
At some point in our lives, we all experience hardship and adversity. Facing traumatic events
seems to be an integral part of the human experience. In fact, approximately 90 percent of us
will face at least one traumatic event in our lifetime, with many of us being exposed to multiple
traumatic events (Kilpatrick et al., 2013). Of course, not everyone who has experienced trauma
will develop PTSD. Many individuals are remarkably resilient in the face of adversity. However,
the capacity to bounce back from difficult events requires that we have sufficient support in the
form of a loving family or caring community member who is invested in our well-being (Matheson,
2016). For example, children are more resilient to the chronic stress of poverty when they have at
least one nurturing and protective adult in their lives (Haggerty et al., 1996). Being able to talk
to someone helps us to process our thoughts and feelings about the traumatic experience and also
helps to know that we are important.
In contrast, when individuals do not have someone who provides this compassionate
understanding for their inner world, they are significantly more likely to develop PTSD. For
example, children who grow up with a disengaged and emotionally unavailable primary caregiver
will fail to get their needs met with regard to acceptance, love, and understanding. Furthermore,
children who experience ongoing abuse from which there is no escape will experience extended
periods of time in a state of fear or helplessness. These early childhood experiences can lead to
learned helplessness and a loss of self-efficacy that follows individuals into adulthood, causing
them to carry the learned experience and accompanying belief that their actions do not make a
difference in the outcome of their lives.
1
2 The Complex PTSD Treatment Manual
In this chapter, I will explore the symptoms of acute traumatic stress, single-incident PTSD,
and C-PTSD. I will also focus on the diagnostic distinction between C-PTSD and other
disorders, with consideration that these and other diagnoses can sometimes be comorbid. I
will also explore how to develop a case conceptualization that considers social and cultural
factors. Because establishing a sense of safety is paramount for trauma work, this chapter also
provides two healing practices, which are intended to create an atmosphere of relational safety
and teach your client the concept of the window of tolerance. These practices will allow your
clients to better partner with you in their healthcare. Finally, therapists who specialize in
the treatment of complex trauma recognize the impact that this work can have on their own
mental, emotional, and physical health. Therefore, this chapter also offers an opportunity for
personal reflection, which focuses on helping you find the resources to stay present with your
clients as they experience helplessness, despair, uncertainty, disappointment, and loss.
An acute stress reaction refers to the psychological and physiological responses that arise after
exposure to a traumatic event. During and after traumatic events, most individuals will experience
feelings of confusion, sadness, fear, anxiety, panic, irritability, agitation, anger, and despair.
Additionally, it is common to experience physical symptoms, including rapid heart rate, sweating,
shakiness, nausea, or dizziness. These reactions typically last for approximately two to four weeks.
While these symptoms are unsettling, we as therapists are likely to exacerbate the problem if we join
with our clients’ fears about their emotions or sensations. Therefore, it is important to reassure our
clients that these symptoms are normal and to be expected. The latest edition of the International
Classification of Diseases (ICD-11; World Health Organization, 2018) has not only renamed acute
stress disorder to “acute stress reaction” but also has moved its description out of the mental
disorder section and into the “factors influencing health” section. The intention is to depathologize
the experience of emotional distress after exposure to any highly stressful or traumatic event.
Although acute reactions to stress are normal, sometimes the physiological and psychological
effects of trauma can develop into symptoms that remain for an extended period of time. Typically,
this happens if the event threatens an individual’s sense of survival and overwhelms their coping
capacities. When this occurs, the traumatic experience can result in the development of PTSD.
The symptoms of PTSD fall into three categories: reexperiencing, avoidance, and persistent
perceptions of current threat. Reexperiencing symptoms, also referred to as invasive or intrusive
symptoms, interfere with our clients’ ability to feel safe and relaxed. Traumatic events are not
simply remembered, they are relived as if they are still occurring. Sometimes these symptoms
arise as vivid images, nightmares, or flashbacks that are accompanied by strong emotions and
disturbing sensations. Other times, reexperiencing symptoms are due to early childhood preverbal
events for which there are no clear images or memories. As a result, clients might report feeling
flooded by emotions and sensations with no known cause, or they may have somatic symptoms,
such as chronic pain and illness symptoms, that flare up during times of stress.
Understanding Trauma and Complex PTSD 3
Avoidance symptoms are behaviors that individuals adopt to prevent or push away reminders
of the trauma. For example, they may avoid external situations, such as places, activities,
or people, that are associated with the traumatic event. They may also push away internal
reminders of the trauma, including related thoughts, memories, emotions, or sensations. They
may deny that certain disturbing events ever occurred, repress their feelings, or minimize their
pain. In some cases, clients may engage in substance use, emotional eating, or over-exercising to
push away their pain. In addition, relatively common and socially accepted behaviors, such as
chronic busyness, overworking, extended screen time, or sleeping extensively, can also function
as avoidance behaviors.
The third category of symptoms, persistent perceptions of current threat, refers to having an
enhanced startle effect or hypervigilance, in which individuals feel as though they must
remain on guard or are highly sensitized to their environment. They may be highly sensitive
to people’s body language, facial expressions, and tone of voice. In addition, they might have very
precisely controlled behaviors to manage their experience, such as always sitting close to the door
in your office or frequently checking the clock.
There is also a dissociative subtype of PTSD. In contrast to the traditional PTSD diagnosis,
which emphasizes hyper-arousal symptoms, the dissociative subtype is distinguished by symptoms
of hypo-arousal, dissociation, emotional numbness, depersonalization, and derealization. In
this case, clients might report times when they feel disconnected from their body, like their
body doesn’t feel real, or that the world around them feels surreal. They might report feeling as
though they are living in a daze or a fog that is not medication induced.
In contrast to individuals who are hypervigilant, clients with dissociative symptoms are prone
to under-responding or to feeling immobilized in risky situations. As a result, they do not take
actions to protect themselves, which can lead to re-traumatization. For example, a client might
not be aware of the fear-based sensory experiences associated with a dangerous dating partner,
which can increase their vulnerability to sexual assault or cause them to remain in an abusive
relationship for an extended period of time. Moreover, clients with dissociative symptoms often
have greater difficulty remembering details about historical traumatic events. In some cases,
clients can develop complex internal systems with parts that carry memories and emotions related
to the traumatic event and parts that are invested in disconnecting from the pain.
C-PTSD
Furthermore, children with learning disabilities seem to be at greater risk for abuse, which
can increase their likelihood of developing C-PTSD. For example, one study revealed a strong
correlation between dyslexia and physical abuse, with 35 percent of individuals reporting abuse
before age 18 (Fuller-Thompson & Hooper, 2014). There is speculation that this correlation is
bidirectional in that parents who feel triggered by their child’s cognitive differences or impulsivity
become abusive, and as a result of this chronic stress at home, children are at greater risk for
continued learning problems. Here, we can imagine a vicious cycle in which parents and children
react to each other in an exacerbated dynamic of mutual dysregulation.
The timing of developmental trauma appears to make a difference as well. Children go through
critical growth periods in which they are more susceptible to the impact of trauma. One of these
periods occurs during the first three years of life when infants and toddlers are in the attachment
phase of development. When an infant’s world is frightening, unpredictable, threatening,
or neglectful, they cannot form a secure attachment with their primary caregiver. This rocky
foundation can hinder their capacity to cultivate a sense of self or develop meaningful, healthy
relationships in adulthood. In addition, adolescents are also highly vulnerable to relational
trauma due to the unpredictable physiological changes that accompany this developmental
period and the psychological tasks of identity formation.
The intensity and impact of traumatic events is worse when there is a secondary layer of betrayal
(Courtois & Ford, 2009). Betrayal trauma occurs when victims are blamed for the event, when
others develop an alliance with the abuser, or when others fail to protect them. For example,
betrayal trauma can occur in the case of childhood sexual abuse when a parent tells their child
that the abuse was their fault because they were “too pretty” or “seductive.” This betrayal
worsens if the other parent allies with the abuser, believing them instead of protecting the child.
Betrayal trauma can also arise in the context of racial or cultural trauma when an individual’s
country and government fail to provide a safe haven or protect them. Betrayal is associated with a
greater propensity of dissociative symptoms.
In some cases, clients may experience ongoing stress in their current lives in addition to the
historical traumatization they have experienced. For these clients, their current lives reflect the
instability that they felt as a result of childhood trauma, and in turn, they often come into
the office with repeated crises that are unfolding in the present day. For example, they might live
with chronic uncertainty due to homelessness, financial stress, or domestic violence. Or those who
are immigrants might face current threats of deportation. Or those with chronic pain and illness
might feel worn down by their symptoms. Understanding these contextualizing factors is crucial
Understanding Trauma and Complex PTSD 5
so that we, as clinicians, do not assume that the client “should” be more resilient, as this can lead
them to feel blamed for their symptoms.
The most recent edition of the ICD (World Health Organization, 2018) has added the diagnosis
of C-PTSD into the category of disorders specifically associated with stress. The diagnostic
criteria include the typical symptoms of PTSD (reexperiencing, avoidance, and persistent
perceptions of current threat), as well as three additional categories of symptoms: difficulties
with affect regulation, negative self-concept, and interpersonal disturbances (Böttche et al.,
2018; McElroy et al., 2019). Let’s take a closer look at this additional subset of symptoms:
Although these symptoms of C-PTSD reflect the impact of trauma on clients’ mental and
emotional well-being, we also have to consider the profound impact of trauma on physical
6 The Complex PTSD Treatment Manual
health. As evidenced by the Adverse Childhood Experiences (ACE) study, individuals with
childhood trauma are especially susceptible to a range of chronic pain and physical illnesses
(Felitti et al., 1998). The ACE study, which was conducted by Kaiser Permanente and the
Centers for Disease Control and Prevention, surveyed over 17,000 patients regarding their
reports of adverse childhood events, such as experiencing abuse or neglect, witnessing domestic
violence, or growing up in dysfunctional household characterized by divorce, mental illness,
substance use, or parental imprisonment. They found that the number of ACEs was correlated
with a variety of harmful mental and physical health outcomes later in life. In particular,
having an ACE score of four or more significantly increased the risk of developing depression,
substance use, suicidality, obesity, heart disease, cancer, lung disease, and liver disease.
Assessment of C-PTSD
C-PTSD has traditionally been difficult to diagnosis, partly because the diagnosis has only recently
been recognized and differentiated from PTSD and borderline personality disorder (Cloitre et
al., 2014). Accurate diagnosis can also be challenging because the symptoms of C-PTSD can
be similar to other disorders, including major depressive disorder, bipolar disorder, generalized
anxiety disorder, panic disorder, obsessive compulsive disorder, eating disorders, learning
disabilities, attention-deficit/hyperactivity disorder, substance abuse disorders, dissociative
disorders, conversion disorders, and psychotic disorders.
Therefore, when assessing for C-PTSD, we want to carefully take our time to develop an accurate
understanding of our client’s symptoms within the context of historical traumatic experiences
and current stressors. Oftentimes, these clients have been misunderstood, misdiagnosed, or
inappropriately medicated. These clients entrust us with their care, so from our very first meeting
with them, we must begin to gather information about their lives and their histories in a sensitive,
yet thorough, manner. In addition to assessing for the six categories of C-PTSD symptoms, we
must also attend to dissociative symptoms (e.g., depersonalization and derealization) to determine
whether there may be a comorbid dissociative disorder. Furthermore, when clients have chronic
difficulties with emotion dysregulation—especially when accompanied by fears of abandonment,
interpersonal difficulties, a poor sense of self-worth, suicidal ideation, and impulsivity—we might
also consider the presence of a comorbid personality disorder.
It is also essential that we consider social, developmental, and cultural factors when reflecting on a
client’s trauma history. For example, it is important to know if the client grew up in poverty, without
sufficient medical care, or without access to healthy nutrition. We want to understand whether our
clients were the target of racial oppression, discrimination, harassment, or threats. If you work
with refugees, it is imperative that you recognize the ways in which these individuals have been
betrayed by other humans. These individuals may have faced profound helplessness and powerlessness
that led to a depletion of mental and emotional resources. For these clients, it can feel nearly
impossible to retain a sense of being human or to trust that their actions will make a difference in
the outcome their life (Ehlers, Maercker, & Boos, 2000). These types of experiences can drastically
impact a person’s ability to trust other people or the world at large (Matheson, 2016).
Including the client’s social, developmental, and cultural contexts in the case conceptualization
helps us avoid inadvertently blaming the client for their symptoms. We must acknowledge how
Understanding Trauma and Complex PTSD 7
a client’s self-protective, defensive reactions may continue to be necessary for their health
and well-being. If we set a treatment goal to help a client restore a sense of safety or trust when
systemic problems have not been addressed, we might be doing harm. For example, consider a
woman who is struggling with anxiety and poor sleep but who still works in a setting where her
boss has been harassing her for over a year. She cannot afford to leave her job because she is a
single mother. Within this context, her fear and distrust are understandable given these ongoing
challenges that are outside of her control. If we treat her fear-based symptoms without considering
the contextual features at play, she will inevitably feel misunderstood. Thus, we must always
consider situational factors when working with any client who is currently being mistreated or
discriminated against, especially when the underlying bias (such as racism, classism, or religious
bias) has not been addressed within the external community or societal context.
We gather information about our clients’ history in order to form a case conceptualization, which
is a narrative that provides an understanding of their predominant symptoms and their existing
strengths within the context of their social and cultural history. However, a clinical interview
needs to be offered at a pace that does not overwhelm the client, as rushing the process might
impair their willingness to continue with therapy. Often, when working with clients who have
C-PTSD, we must patiently and compassionately wait for them to feel safe enough to share their
pain. While some clients are able to share a cohesive narrative that describes their past, this is
less often the case with C-PTSD. More commonly, we have to listen for clues about their past
as described in fragmented memories or stories of triggering events, or by paying attention to
their distressing symptoms. Furthermore, clients may not be able to talk about their distress as a
“symptom” because these feelings and behaviors are so thoroughly integrated into their identity.
They might say, “This is simply who I am.”
It can also be challenging to conduct a thorough clinical interview if the client has dissociative
symptoms. Dissociation is both a built-in physiological survival mechanism and a psychological
defense structure. It helps the individual disconnect from threatening experiences by creating a
division between the part of the self that is trying to live a “normal” life and the part of the self
that is holding onto trauma-related memories, emotions, and sensations. Dissociation can lead a
client to disconnect from their distress, be highly intellectualized, or uphold idealized descriptions
of abusers. Therefore, when we are exploring our client’s history, some clients may have a tendency
to underreport symptoms, or they may be too triggered by questions that they are unable to
participate in a clinical interview.
8 The Complex PTSD Treatment Manual
For example, a client may hold a fantasized or idealized version of a family of origin to avoid
confronting the reality of childhood abuse or neglect. In other cases, you might learn that the client
feels as though the world is unreal, feels disconnected from their body, or has periods of “lost time.”
In some cases, it can be difficult to assess whether dissociative symptoms are present because clients
do not want to come across as “crazy.” This need to appear “normal” can override a willingness to talk
about their distress. However, we may begin to notice that they have difficulty recalling recent events.
We might notice subtle changes in their body language, such as a collapsed posture or faint tone of
voice, that suggest they are no longer fully grounded and present. Or they might report feeling tired,
foggy, dizzy, numb, lightheaded, or nauseous but not realize these are symptoms of dissociation.
Importantly, dissociation can occur in both hyper- and hypo-aroused states. Here are some
examples of dissociation across the arousal continuum:
• Running: “The last thing I recall is the therapist asking me about my childhood. I was in
the parking lot before I realized it. I don’t remember leaving her office.”
• Raging: “I lost control! I was told that I was choking him but have no memory of it. They
showed me the video, and I couldn’t believe that was me.”
• Foggy and dizzy: “The room starts to spin, and I feel foggy and nauseous, but I don’t know
what triggered it.”
• Sleeping: “Any time I have a conflict with a friend, I fall asleep afterward. Often, I stay there
in my chair for hours. I become nothingness. I go blank.”
• Fainting: “It starts with a queasy feeling in my stomach. I guess I finally faint, and I’m a
mess when I come to. It’s so embarrassing.”
In some cases, it can take several months of treatment before you are able to form a thorough case
conceptualization and related diagnoses, especially when dissociative symptoms are paramount.
When the diagnosis is not clear, you can still utilize the treatment approaches discussed in this
book to help deepen your understanding of your client’s history, stabilize their current distress,
and treat trauma-related symptoms.
The following section offers a series of questions that you can use to better understand a client’s
trauma history, symptoms, resources, and strengths. In some cases, it might be appropriate
to explore these lists with your clients during a clinical interview. However, there is little
clinical value in focusing on lists of questions with clients when this interferes with the
therapeutic relationship. In most situations, I suggest that you use these questions to facilitate
conversations with clients in a well-paced manner that helps you to learn about their lives. The
primary goal is to develop a trauma-informed and strength-based case conceptualization that
considers a client’s developmental, social, and cultural life experiences.
The first set of questions allows you to assess your client’s ACE score so you can better
understand the client in the context of developmental trauma. The second set of questions goes
beyond the client’s ACE score by including a wider range of developmental, social, and cultural
traumatic events that would be considered adverse life events. The third set of questions provides
a comprehensive list of disturbances related to the six categories of C-PTSD symptoms, with
an additional section devoted to dissociative symptoms. The fourth set invites you to focus on
resilience as an integral part of treatment by examining the client’s protective factors, strengths,
and resources. Finally, the fifth set asks you to engage in self-reflection by examining how your
own history impacts your ability to engage in trauma work with clients.
Clinical Interview Questions
y Did a parent or other adult in the household swear at you, insult you, put
you down, humiliate you, or act in a way that made you afraid that you
might be physically hurt?
y Did a parent or other adult in the household push, grab, slap, throw
something at, or hit you so hard that you were injured?
y Did an adult or person at least five years older than you ever touch or
fondle you, make you touch their body in a sexual way, or sexually abuse
you in any other way?
y Did you feel that no one in your family loved you or thought you were
important or special? Did you feel that your family didn’t feel close to or
support each other?
y Did you feel that you didn’t have enough to eat, had to wear dirty clothes,
and had no one to protect you? Were your parents too drunk or high to take
care of you or take you to the doctor if you needed it?
y Were your parents ever separated or divorced?
y Was your mother or stepmother pushed, grabbed, slapped, or had
something thrown at her? Was she ever hit with something hard or
threatened with a gun or knife?
y Did you live with anyone who was a problem drinker or alcoholic, or who
used street drugs?
y Was a household member depressed or mentally ill, or did a household
member ever attempt suicide?
y Did a household member ever go to prison?
Add up each question to which the client answered “yes” to find out their
ACE Score:
Copyright © 2021, Arielle Schwartz, The Complex PTSD Treatment Manual. All rights reserved. 9
Clinical Interview Questions
y Were you told that you were the result of an unwanted pregnancy?
y Were you separated from your mother for an extended period of time after birth?
y Were there any medical complications during or after your birth?
y Were your medical needs neglected in childhood?
y Did your mother experience postpartum depression?
y Did either of your parents have PTSD?
y D
id either parent have strong narcissistic or borderline personality
characteristics?
y Did you have family members who did not respect your boundaries?
y Did you experience a lack of emotional safety in your family?
y Was there competition with your siblings for limited parental attention?
y Were you chronically rejected, misunderstood, discounted, or shamed?
y Did you fear death or serious injury at any point in your life?
y Were you held in captivity with the inability to escape at any point in your life?
y D
id you experience any unwanted or forced sexual encounter at any time in
your life?
y Did you witness a serious injury or death of another person?
y Were you in or exposed to combat during military service?
y Were you the victim of a serious crime or robbery?
y Have you felt repeatedly discriminated against, harassed, or bullied?
y Have you been homeless at any point in your life?
y Are you a refugee, or have you been displaced from your country?
y Have you feared being deported or questioned your safety in your country?
10 Copyright © 2021, Arielle Schwartz, The Complex PTSD Treatment Manual. All rights reserved.
Clinical Interview Questions
C-PTSD Symptoms
This comprehensive checklist explores disturbances related to the six categories
of C-PTSD symptoms, with an additional section devoted to dissociative
symptoms. As with the previous checklist, you can explore these items with your
client directly during a clinical interview, or you can use this checklist as you get
to know your client across multiple sessions.
Reexperiencing Symptoms
Avoidance Symptoms
y Do you stay away from people or places that remind you of traumatic events?
y Do you tend to withdraw or isolate yourself?
y Do you rely upon alcohol, substances, or food to avoid feeling your pain?
y Do you sometimes spend hours watching T.V. or playing video games?
y Do you find it difficult to admit to yourself that you were abused or neglected?
y Do you spend so much time caring for others that you ignore yourself?
y Do you tend to be a perfectionist or be highly critical of yourself and others?
y Do you focus so much on your work so you don’t have to feel or think about
the past?
Copyright © 2021, Arielle Schwartz, The Complex PTSD Treatment Manual. All rights reserved. 11
y Do you find yourself constantly checking your environment for signs of
threats?
y Do you always need to have an escape plan?
y Do you tend to expect the worst to happen?
y Are you highly sensitive to subtle changes in other people’s body language
and facial expressions?
Affect Dysregulation
Negative Self-Concept
y Do you feel like you have little control over your life no matter what you do?
y Do you often feel ineffective or powerless?
y Do you feel like a failure?
y Do you believe that you are damaged?
y Do you have little hope for your future?
y Do you often feel ashamed, guilty, or unworthy?
y Do you feel as though there is something wrong with you?
y Do you have a hard time finding a sense of purpose or meaning to your life?
12 Copyright © 2021, Arielle Schwartz, The Complex PTSD Treatment Manual. All rights reserved.
Interpersonal Disturbances
Dissociative Symptoms
y Do you sometimes find yourself staring into space or realize that you have
been daydreaming for long periods of time?
y Is it difficult for you to pay attention, or do you get distracted easily?
y Do you find yourself suddenly getting tired, feeling far away, or as if you’re
looking at the world through a fog?
y Are there times when people, objects, or the world feels unreal?
y Do you sometimes feel disconnected from your body or emotionally numb?
y Do you feel like you are different people in different situations?
y Do you sometimes feel, act, or talk like a younger person?
y Do you have difficulty remembering broad periods of your life?
y Do you ever arrive at places and don’t know how you got there, or find
things that you have bought but don’t remember buying them?
Copyright © 2021, Arielle Schwartz, The Complex PTSD Treatment Manual. All rights reserved. 13
Clinical Interview Questions
y Do you recall times when you felt loved, nurtured, and protected by your
mother, father, or other primary caregiver as a child?
y Do you recall having a trustworthy relative, caregiver, neighbor, coach, or
teacher who cared about your well-being when you were growing up?
y Is there someone trustworthy in your life right now with whom you can talk?
y Do you believe that life is what you make of it?
y Do you consider yourself a go-getter?
y Have you experienced times when you felt successful or empowered?
y Are there activities you enjoy?
y Do you make time to focus on your health by attending to your nutrition or
exercising?
y Do you make time for rest and relaxation, such as focusing on your sleep or
getting a massage?
y Do you make time for social connections with family, friends, or at
community events?
y Do you make time for religious or spiritual practices, such as praying,
meditating, or spending time in nature?
y Do you have a sense of hope and optimism about the future?
y Do you have goals for your future, and do you take steps toward achieving
your goals?
14 Copyright © 2021, Arielle Schwartz, The Complex PTSD Treatment Manual. All rights reserved.
Pause for Reflection
Take some time to reflect on your own history. This process may illuminate a need
for your own personal therapy, which is a process that can enhance your well-being
and become a foundation of compassion for the difficulties your clients face.
y Review the list of ACEs and adverse life events. What is your own ACE
score? What additional challenges have you faced in your life?
y Take a look at the list of PTSD and C-PTSD symptoms. Make note of the
distress that you have experienced historically. Do you continue to struggle
with some of these symptoms today?
y What has helped you navigate the challenges of your life? Have you been in
therapy? If so, what were the therapeutic moments that helped you better
understand yourself and allowed you to grow?
Copyright © 2021, Arielle Schwartz, The Complex PTSD Treatment Manual. All rights reserved. 15
16 The Complex PTSD Treatment Manual
When Susan first came into therapy, she appeared restless as she shifted uncomfortably on the
couch. She spoke quickly, jumping from one subject to another. In quick succession, she spoke
about her recent breakup with her boyfriend and how he had reminded her of her mother who
had been abusive to her as a child. I learned that she hadn’t been sleeping and had been having
panic attacks. I could see that she was feeling overwhelmed.
Acknowledging this subtle, yet significant, shift, I invited her to take a look around the room
and to notice how she felt sitting in the room with me. She looked at the plant sitting near the
window and said, “It has been a long time since I have slowed down.” She returned her eyes to
meet mine. I offered a kind smile in return and shared that I looked forward to getting to know
her. This moment of connection spontaneously brought my hand to my heart, a reflection
that I felt touched by our exchange.
As therapists, it is our job to pace therapy in such a way that we can stay present and grounded.
Our own breath and mindful body awareness then serves as the foundation for our work with
others. Once we have established this sense of relational safety, we can begin to gather information
about a client’s history. In my work with Susan, I eventually learned that in addition to the
emotional abuse she experienced from her mother, she had a father who was often drunk. In
her words, “When he was sober, he was loving. But when he was drinking, he would be angry
and threatening.” She had frequent nightmares as a little girl but had no one to turn to when
she felt afraid. Now we were able to compassionately attend to her feelings of fear, hurt, anger,
and sadness with a here-and-now emphasis on relational safety. The spontaneous lifting of my
hand to my heart offered a nonverbal gesture that communicated to her that I felt moved by
our connection. This moment of relational connection stood in contrast to the emotional abuse
and neglect she experienced in her childhood. Slowing down and focusing on the here and now
offered a reparative experience of being nonjudgmentally heard, seen, and understood.
Understanding Trauma and Complex PTSD 17
Like Susan, our clients sometimes come into session wanting to share stories about their traumatic
past. They might begin to feel a sense of urgency, or you might notice that they speak quickly
in order to get the story out. As a result, our clients are more likely to feel overwhelmed or re-
traumatized. We, as therapists, are also more likely to feel overwhelmed in this exchange. Using the
next healing practice, we can encourage clients to slow down and focus on the present moment with
simple statements that help them orient their attention to a more spacious, relational awareness.
This allows therapy to focus on creating safety and a sense of connection right from the beginning.
Healing Practice
y It is important that you feel safe with me as you share your story. Is it okay
with you if I periodically invite you to take a brief pause from the story you
are sharing with me? This way, I can help you pace yourself and reduce the
likelihood that you will leave here feeling overwhelmed.
y I would like to remind you that there is plenty of time and space for you.
There is no need to rush.
y Can you take a moment to sense your body while you share your story?
What sensations are you aware of?
y Can you take a moment to sense your emotions while you share your story?
What are you feeling right now?
y What you are saying is important, and I want to be sure that I can stay
present with you and all that you are sharing with me. What I am noticing
right now is… [a reflection of the expression that you notice on the client’s
face, an emotion or sensation that you are aware of in yourself, and so forth].
y Notice how it feels to have me right here with you as you are sharing your
story.
18 Copyright © 2021, Arielle Schwartz, The Complex PTSD Treatment Manual. All rights reserved.
Understanding Trauma and Complex PTSD 19
Window of Tolerance
Many clients with C-PTSD have spent extended periods of time in both hyper-aroused and hypo-
aroused states. Therefore, treatment involves helping clients recognize when they are in their
window of tolerance, a phrase that trauma expert Dr. Daniel Siegel uses to describe an optimal
zone of nervous system arousal where clients can respond effectively to their emotions (Siegel,
1999). We can tell that a client is in their window when they are aware of their body and
breath, feel calm, are able to think clearly, and are able to express a range of emotions without
getting “stuck” in their feelings. When a client is above their window of tolerance, they may
be prone to overwhelming feelings of anxiety, panic, hypervigilance, restlessness, irritability,
aggression, or rage, and they may cry uncontrollably. In contrast, when a client is below their
window of tolerance, they might feel tired, lethargic, emotionally dull, helpless, shutdown, numb,
disconnected, or depressed.
Individuals who have suffered from chronic, repeated traumatization often sustain prolonged
periods of SNS or PNS activation, or they alternate between these two states with little to no
capacity to self-regulate into an experience of feeling calm and safe. Many individuals thus rely
heavily upon coping skills that over-contain their distress. For example, they may focus excessively
on their work and become a workaholic. Others manage their distress through over- or under-
eating, smoking, drug or alcohol use, or dissociation. This process can create a “faux” window of
tolerance in which individuals temporarily and superficially override their distress in a way that
mimics safety; however, they quickly return to their dysregulated state (Kain & Terrell, 2018).
Because many individuals with C-PTSD have no internal experience of safety, creating a false
sense of safety has been necessary for their survival. These pseudo-safety behaviors have allowed
them to function despite being in chronic distress. For these individuals, the experience of true
safety and connection can feel threatening because it requires allowing themselves to be vulnerable
with another person, which often elicits memories of rejection or abuse. The work of Dr. Gabor
Maté offers a compassionate approach to understanding these coping behaviors and asks that we
recognize them as a survival strategy to help manage the pain of trauma (Maté, 2010).
This next healing practice focuses on building an understanding of the window of tolerance,
which can help you and your clients compassionately communicate about different nervous system
states that may arise during trauma work. Over time, you will work together to discover states
of calm and connectedness by tapping into the social engagement system (chapter 3), engaging
in co-regulation (chapter 4), and practicing mindful body awareness (chapter 5). In addition, in
chapters 6, 7, and 8, you will help clients increase their distress tolerance by widening the window
of tolerance at a pace they can tolerate.
Healing Practice
Window of Tolerance
Hyper-arousal
Upper Limit
20 Copyright © 2021, Arielle Schwartz, The Complex PTSD Treatment Manual. All rights reserved.
y When you are below your window, you feel hypo-aroused. During these
times, you might feel:
ο Tired or lethargic
ο Emotionally dull
ο Helpless or powerless
ο Heavy or depressed
ο Floaty, dizzy, or nauseous
ο Shutdown, disconnected, or numb
y You might notice that you have a tendency toward one side of this nervous
system imbalance, or you might alternate between both hyper- and hypo-
arousal.
y It is common to engage in learned coping strategies to help you manage
your distress. You might:
y These behaviors allowed you to survive the pain. They reflect your attempt
to do the best you could to navigate an unspeakable situation. However,
our work together will help you learn to relate to yourself and work through
the trauma of your past so you no longer need to rely on these behaviors.
You can discover a new sense of connection and safety.
Copyright © 2021, Arielle Schwartz, The Complex PTSD Treatment Manual. All rights reserved. 21
2
Theoretical Foundations of an
Integrative Approach to
Trauma Treatment
It takes tremendous courage to confront traumatic memories and emotions. Successful treatment
requires a compassionate therapeutic relationship and effective, research-based interventions.
Therefore, this chapter examines the theoretical foundations of the integrative, mind-body
approach presented in this book, which is grounded within common factors research, phased-
based treatment recommendations for C-PTSD, and the neurophysiology of trauma recovery.
Any integrative approach to therapy brings together two or more therapeutic modalities within
a cohesive, conceptual framework (Zarbo et al., 2016). Integrative models of treatment often
rely on common factors, or core ingredients, that underlie the efficacy of psychotherapy at large
(Wampold, 2010; Wampold & Imel, 2015). These common factors are: the therapeutic alliance,
therapist empathy, therapist congruence and genuineness, collaboration between the therapist and
client, the establishment of agreed-upon treatment goals, cultural adaptation of interventions to
meet the needs of the specific client, and client engagement in treatment (Wampold, 2015). Of
note, an integrative approach is not the same as an eclectic approach. Eclecticism pulls in a vast
array of techniques that can feel disjointed and confusing to the client. In contrast, an integrative
approach has a cohesive feeling because of its emphasis on common factors. As therapists, we
can further facilitate the cohesive quality of this integrated approach by ensuring that a common
treatment goal underlies the various treatment approaches.
There are several unifying goals of the integrative model presented in this book, all of which
are critical to the treatment of C-PTSD. The primary focus of treatment is to retain clients in
therapy long enough for the therapist and client to find a way to work together with a shared
understanding of the client’s goals (Corrigan & Hull, 2015). Once we have a relationship with the
client, we ask the client if they would like to work on the following treatment goals as related to
the symptoms of complex trauma: (1) facilitating greater affect regulation and emotional balance;
(2) reducing avoidance symptoms, including dissociation; (3) reducing the frequency and intensity
23
24 The Complex PTSD Treatment Manual
Ultimately, the goal of this integrated model is to help our clients feel more resilient. Resilience is
defined as having an increased capacity to handle stress and bounce back after difficult or traumatic
life experiences (Schwartz, 2020). Resilience helps us recognize that we will all face difficulties at
some point in our lives, but we can also learn the skills and tools that help us connect to our inner
strength and sense of empowerment. We also must recognize that resilience is best attained and
developed within supportive and unconditionally accepting relationships. Healing from C-PTSD
involves helping clients become aware of their past and how it affects them in the present. We help
them recognize how the past has shaped their thoughts and behaviors. In addition, we help them
orient to the fact that these historical traumatic events are over by focusing on cues of safety in the
here and now. When clients have a greater capacity to be mindfully attune to the present moment,
it gives them a greater sense of choice about their thoughts and behaviors.
Some clients have been in therapy for many years with an accumulation of unsuccessful outcomes.
They may come to therapy with a high degree of distrust and cynicism. Others face ongoing
stressors, such as racial inequity, discrimination, homelessness, poverty, addiction, health
challenges, or relationship losses. A compassionate approach to care asks us to nonjudgmentally
accept each client within the context of their unique social and cultural challenges. An integrative
approach to treatment allows us to adapt the focus of our work to meet the needs of each specific
client by recognizing that there is no single therapeutic method that is appropriate or effective
for all clients. Some clients will respond better to a cognitive approach, whereas others will
appreciate emotion-focused or somatically oriented interventions. Most importantly, even when
clients are facing current stressors, the interventions presented in this book will empower them
as they navigate the obstacles in their lives by helping them to restore trust in the goodness of
human connection and to build confidence in their own capacity to handle adversity.
Phase-Based Treatment
Rather than focusing directly on traumatic memories, therapy for C-PTSD relies upon a
relationally focused, tri-phasic approach to care (Herman, 1997). Phase one focuses on establishing
stability and safety; phase two focuses on helping clients process traumatic material in a well-
paced, regulated manner; and phase three involves integrating new experiences into identity and
relationships. In many cases, phase one is the longest and most important phase in the treatment
of C-PTSD.
Phase one of complex trauma treatment emphasizes the paramount importance of the
therapeutic relationship, mindful body awareness, and parts work therapy. The relational
focus builds therapeutic rapport and trust through a client-centered and collaborative approach
to treatment. Without a collaborative approach, the therapeutic relationship risks recapitulating
power dynamics of dominance and control, which can mirror damaging elements of relationships
from the client’s past. A collaborative approach views the client as a partner with an active role in
their treatment. This encourages clients to develop a sense of control and self-efficacy as they take
ownership of their therapeutic experience.
Theoretical Foundations of an Integrative Approach to Trauma Treatment 25
A collaborative approach to care stands in contrast to a traditional biomedical model in which the
client is seen as a passive recipient of treatment, the client’s belief systems are viewed as irrelevant,
and healthcare professionals are seen as the determiners of treatment (Gatchel, 2004). Individuals
with C-PTSD may not have a framework for trust because they have been repeatedly betrayed by
relationships in the past. It is our job to move at a pace that creates safety. Relational moments of
compassion can eventually build a foundation for the client to develop a revised, healthy sense of
self within the interpersonal world.
Phase one also focuses on helping clients develop coping strategies and positive resources to
enhance stabilization through a readily accessible feeling of safety in body and mind. In part, this
is facilitated through mindfulness-based interventions (offered in chapter 5) that invite clients
to increase awareness of their mental, emotional, and somatic experiences with an emphasis on
staying grounded in the present moment. Mindfulness has been increasingly viewed as a valuable
asset to successful therapy outcomes (Germer & Neff, 2019; Kabat-Zinn, 1990) because it helps
clients build tolerance for distressing emotions and sensations, and also increases their capacity
for self-compassion and acceptance.
Clients with C-PTSD may block self-compassion or resist positive emotions. For example, they
may have an unrelenting inner critic or deep-seated feelings of unworthiness that lead them to
dismiss and push away the nourishment of positive emotions. Therefore, phase one of treatment also
involves developing a deeper understanding of the client’s inner world through parts work therapy
(Schwartz, 1997; van der Hart, Nijenhuis, & Steele, 2006). Parts work helps clients deepen their
understanding of internalized messages from their family of origin and address dissociative symptoms.
When children have grown up with an abusive parent and there is no way to escape, it is common to
develop a dissociative split between the part of the self that upholds the attachment to the caregiver
and the part that holds the reality of the abuse (Fisher, 2017). These dissociative symptoms often
persist into adulthood as a means for clients to avoid acknowledging the abuse. Integrating parts
work therapy into the first phase of treatment for C-PTSD becomes an essential tool to help clients
differentiate from parts of themselves that are self-critical or self-harming so they can sustain
positive affect and eventually work through the painful memories of historical traumatic events.
Phase two of trauma treatment typically involves the direct targeting of traumatic memories
through exposure and desensitization techniques. However, this approach to treatment can
be re-traumatizing and injurious to clients with C-PTSD, and some clients may not be able to
tolerate it (Cloitre et al., 2012; Szczygiel, 2018; van Vliet et al., 2018). Therefore, it is wise to
proceed with caution into this phase of treatment with respect to clients’ access to resources and
readiness for trauma reprocessing. If we open up clients’ access to these distressing memories,
emotions, or sensations too quickly, we risk triggering dissociative symptoms or leaving them
feeling overwhelmed. Instead, it is important to build up their capacity to tolerate both positive
and negative affect and sensations prior to working through traumatic events. With some clients,
this can take quite a bit of time and, in some cases, too much emphasis on safety can delay
treatment (de Jongh et al., 2016). Importantly, we can counterbalance the targeting of traumatic
memories by simultaneously helping them build positive resources and emotion regulation skills
(Karatzias et al., 2018). In addition, we can empower clients through a collaborative and open
conversation regarding the timing and appropriateness of memory-focused interventions so they
feel like they have choice about when to reprocess traumatic material.
26 The Complex PTSD Treatment Manual
In addition, phase two of trauma treatment also involves a balance of top-down and bottom-up
processing (Ogden & Minton, 2014). Top-down processing engages the upper brain centers,
such as the prefrontal cortex, through psychoeducation and cognitive interventions to regulate
emotional distress. Top-down strategies include talking about traumatic events, identifying
negative thought patterns or thinking errors, and cultivating resources, such as positive beliefs
or imagery. In contrast, bottom-up processing engages the lower brain centers, such as the
limbic system and brainstem, by bringing attention to sensations and emotions to access the way
trauma is held in the body. Bottom-up strategies include focusing on emotions and sensations
while processing traumatic events, engaging in mindful breathing, and inviting movement to
facilitate somatic release. In the treatment of complex trauma, we can draw on both top-down
and bottom-up strategies to adjust the pacing of therapy. For example, clients who are prone to
flooding might benefit from top-down interventions to help them connect to a sense of safety in
the moment, whereas clients who have a difficult time connecting to their bodies might benefit
from a bottom-up approach focused more on sensing their body and emotions.
As you proceed through the book, you will learn how to implement well-paced therapeutic
interventions to help clients work through traumatic memories without becoming overwhelmed
or shutting down in the process. The interventions in this second phase are primarily drawn
from somatic, cognitive behavioral, and EMDR therapies, as these help clients to work through
disturbing images, emotions, and sensations. Importantly, when a client has experienced neglect
and a lack of attachment during infancy or early childhood, there may not be specific traumatic
memories to desensitize. Instead, you can address the impact of these deficient early experiences
by building a caring therapeutic relationship and by helping the client cultivate other nurturing
resources for the part of the self that experienced abandonment or neglect.
Phase three aims to help clients sustain a positive sense of self, strengthen their resilience,
and sustain a feeling of hope for the future. Here, we remember that even positive change
can be challenging to accommodate. Sometimes we must help clients work through barriers to
integrate a new or emerging sense of self into the world. This can be especially important for
clients whose physical health is compromised as a result of unresolved C-PTSD. Research shows
that unresolved trauma—including childhood attachment wounds, poor sleep, lack of exercise,
social isolation, and poor nutrition—can exacerbate chronic pain and illness conditions (Grant,
2016). In addition, clients with long-term trauma often have lives that reflect their debilitating
symptoms. They might identify as the “sick one,” and they might have family members or friends
who reinforce their diminished sense of self. In some cases, we must help clients let go of the
deeply engrained beliefs and behaviors that reinforce these symptoms. This process may cause
clients to go through an extended period of grief as they attempt to develop a new sense of self.
They may report that life feels meaningless and carry immense despair, or they may have a crisis
of faith in other people and the world. A strength-based approach helps clients to cultivate the
resilience needed to enact these difficult, yet positive, changes and even allow them to grow in
response to complex traumatization (Schwartz, 2020).
In phase three, we also assist clients in creating sustainable lifestyle changes that reinforce this
new sense of self (Schwartz & Maiberger, 2018). For example, we can assist clients in developing
integrative, trauma-informed healthcare teams that might include an exercise coach, yoga
teacher, sleep expert, or nutrition therapist. Additionally, we can attend to our clients’ strengths,
spiritual lives, meaning making, personal values, and sense of purpose. Our aim is to help clients
Theoretical Foundations of an Integrative Approach to Trauma Treatment 27
strengthen their capacity for positive emotions, sense of self-efficacy, feelings of empowerment,
and capacity for reciprocally nourishing interpersonal relationships. Ultimately, we help clients
make meaningful connections out of the complexity of diverse life experiences (Siegel, 2010).
All of our life experiences form neural networks in the brain. A neural network is a group of
interconnected neurons in the brain that fire together and that form the basis of all of our
memories. For example, if you are learning a new piece of music on the piano, you are forming a
neural network that includes the muscle memory of your hands, the sound of the music, and the
feeling that you have in your body as you play the keys. Each time you practice the written music,
you reinforce this neural network, and over time, it becomes easier to play. Eventually, you no
longer need to look at the musical notes on the page; you can play by memory.
Ideally, all your memories are integrated into an overall sense of who you are as a person. However,
a trauma-related memory is considered an impaired neural network because it is disconnected
or isolated from neural networks associated with positive and nourishing memories (Bergmann,
2012). It forms an encapsulated self-state that does not integrate into your overall identity. These
impaired neural networks form the basis of many disturbing symptoms related to trauma, such
as intrusive thoughts, disturbing somatic sensations, flashbacks, and other reexperiencing
symptoms. For example, when a trauma-related neural network is activated, a client may feel like
they are reliving the traumatic event, causing them to experience distressing imagery, disturbing
sensations, and a feeling of terror. Moreover, it is often very difficult for them to reclaim a sense
of safety.
In this triggered state, clients are more likely to have difficulty shifting their thinking toward positive
resources that counter the fear-based state (Shapiro, 2018). They have a harder time accessing
their resources of feeling cared for by a loved one or feeling grounded in the present moment.
When this occurs, the impaired neural network is reinforced. In time, it can become increasingly
difficult for clients to experience themselves as cognitively constructive and emotionally adaptive.
At any given moment, we can either strengthen existing neural connections or develop new
ones. To facilitate neuroplastic change in the case of complex trauma, we must help clients build
new neural connections throughout the brain. Therapy accomplishes this goal by helping clients
talk about traumatic memories while also encouraging them to focus on present resources of safety
in which they feel socially connected to the therapist and grounded in the present moment. This
28 The Complex PTSD Treatment Manual
helps create a bridge between the distressing self-state of the traumatic memory and the resourced
and empowered self-state of the here and now. Importantly, when we invite clients to talk about
traumatic memories, we want to be mindful that they are doing so in a purposeful, reflective
manner so cognitive reappraisal can occur (Ford, 2018). Cognitive reappraisal is defined as the
process of reinterpreting the meaning of events in order to reduce their disturbing emotional
impact (Cutuli, 2014).
Our memories are influenced by our current social environments and are subject to change in
response to suggestive cues and questions (Siegel, 2001). Traumatic memories are particularly
malleable. Therefore, we must refrain from being overly interpretive about a client’s symptoms,
especially when they are experiencing somatic sensations with no known cause. For example, a
client might wonder if they were sexually abused because they had an upsetting dream or felt
an uncomfortable sensation in their body. In some cases, they might view therapy as a process
to uncover repressed memories. Since we want to avoid the construction of false memories, it is
important for both clients and therapists to resist the urge to “tell a story” about these symptoms.
Instead, when working with clients who have somatic sensations without explicit memories, we
ask them to describe their present-moment experiences while suspending our own or their urge to
apply a narrative. We can reassure them (and ourselves) that we can still work with and respect the
somatic discomfort even if we don’t know the exact cause.
We can apply our understanding of neuroplasticity into trauma treatment by inviting clients
to explore difficult memories from the past while simultaneously focusing on new positive
resources that are available in the present moment. For example, we can encourage clients
to sense the safety of the present moment, to feel the warmth of our relational exchange, or to
remember times when they felt loved or understood by another. When we invite them to recall
a distressing memory from the past, they pull forward the old neural circuit and also have an
opportunity to construct a new neural circuit that integrates these positive resources. This process
can also facilitate a new sense of meaning about historically painful life events.
Our brains have a built-in negativity bias, which leads us to pay more attention to cues of threat
than to cues of safety (Vaish, Grossmann, & Woodward, 2008). If clients are currently living
in an unsafe environment or relationship, we want to pay attention to their feelings of fear and
prioritize their physical and emotional safety. However, when this negativity bias is a remnant of
historical trauma, it can lead to a false positive in which the client perceives a situation or person
as threatening when they are actually safe. In this case, you invite a client to focus their attention
on positive resources to reduce the negativity bias. Through this process, you are asking them to
engage in attentional control (Bardeen & Orcutt, 2011). Even if a client is experiencing ongoing
stress related to homelessness or poverty, you can invite them to notice how the safe environment
of the therapy office provides a brief respite and a necessary contrast to the threats the client is
experiencing in their external environment.
Although focusing on resources can provide a temporary reduction of distress, this typically does
not resolve the underlying cause of the client’s dysregulation. As a result, symptoms may re-
emerge during times of stress. We ultimately find a sustainable resolution of C-PTSD symptoms
when we help clients work through the distressing thoughts, emotions, and sensations associated
with traumatic memories. Instead of overriding their somatic distress, you eventually invite clients
to turn toward their discomfort in a slow, modulated manner by focusing on small, manageable
Theoretical Foundations of an Integrative Approach to Trauma Treatment 29
amounts of discomfort and returning their attention to a resource as needed. This alternation of
attention allows clients to develop dual awareness in which they learn to attend to the distress
of traumatic memories while also staying connected to a sense of safety in the here and now
(Rothschild, 2010; Shapiro, 2018). Dual awareness is a key element of trauma treatment modalities
discussed within chapters 7 and 8 of this book.
C-PTSD is associated with the sense that one has lost authority over the process of remembering.
For example, clients may even become triggered by traumatic memories when parenting their
children. In this case, we want to help clients reclaim a sense of choice about when and where
they think about traumatic events. To do so, we can teach clients the skill of containment, which
is defined as temporarily putting thoughts about trauma aside and reorienting attention toward
resources (Shapiro, 2018). For example, clients might imagine putting their disturbing memories
in a container and storing them there for the time being, or they can write down disturbing
thoughts in a journal and then close it. When clients exhibit symptoms such as intrusive memories,
flashbacks, or nightmares, these serve as signals to focus upon the skill of containment.
Successful containment requires that clients have a predictable time set aside during which
they can begin to work through their disturbing emotions, thoughts, and sensations. Often,
that time occurs in therapy. Clients sometimes come into the office feeling panicky, anxious,
overwhelmed, or shutdown. When this occurs, we can help them practice containment by orienting
their attention to cues in the current environment that help them recognize that they are safe in
the here and now. In addition, you can use the therapeutic relationship to strengthen clients’ sense
of safety by inviting them to listen to sound of your voice while offering a calm reminder that you
are there for support. Once a client has successfully shifted their focus to a positive resource, you
can then invite them to notice the reduction in defensive activation throughout their body.
The following two healing practices invite the client to practice attentional control and
containment. Importantly, it is wise to ask the client’s permission to redirect their attention
away from their distress, or they otherwise might be afraid that we will not adequately attend to
their pain. Giving them a sense of choice helps to honor their process. We can reassure them
that there is plenty of time to work with their distress by returning to the statements offered in
the healing practice from chapter 1 on inviting spacious, relational awareness. As with all of the
healing practices in this book, you might only explore one of these statements at a time. I suggest
timing and adapting the practice so it is relevant to your client’s experience. For the first practice,
I suggest keeping several sensory items in your office, such as a basket of differently textured
items (e.g., rocks, seashells, pinecones) and several essential oils from which to choose.
Healing Practice
30 Copyright © 2021, Arielle Schwartz, The Complex PTSD Treatment Manual. All rights reserved.
y Notice how you feel as I say to you the words “you are safe now.” How does
your mind respond? What emotions do you feel?
y Let me know when you feel connected to yourself and safe. As we refocus
our attention on the difficult experience that you were speaking about,
let me know if you begin to feel anxious or shutdown again. We can revisit
these strategies as needed.
Copyright © 2021, Arielle Schwartz, The Complex PTSD Treatment Manual. All rights reserved. 31
Healing Practice
y Make an agreement with yourself that you will only focus on traumatic
memories when you have support and resources. Keep in mind that you
might only feel safe while in therapy. Or you might choose periods of time
to journal and reflect.
y Take several deep breaths and remind yourself that you have a choice about
whether this is a good time to think about any distressing memories from
your past.
y If you choose to journal about traumatic events on your own, it may be
instrumental to set a timer for 10–15 minutes. When the timer goes off,
check in with yourself to ensure that you feel safe with your process.
Remember, you can close your journal and know that any upsetting material
will be held safely inside until you feel ready to return to the process. You
may not want to address these events until you return to therapy.
y If at any point you feel triggered or overwhelmed, give yourself permission
to distance yourself from any disturbing thoughts, emotions, or images.
You can be creative in this process. For example, you can imagine a box,
file, or room that is big enough to hold your distress. Then imagine placing
any images or thoughts into the container until you return to therapy. Or
you can imagine the traumatic event getting farther and farther away so it
becomes smaller and smaller in your mind. Remember that you can open
your container or bring these images or thoughts into your mind when you
are in therapy.
32 Copyright © 2021, Arielle Schwartz, The Complex PTSD Treatment Manual. All rights reserved.
3
The Neurophysiology
of Complex Trauma
As human beings, our bodies are physiologically equipped with built-in protective mechanisms
that help us survive threatening situations by mobilizing our defenses or disconnecting us from
our pain. When we experience a threat, our SNS helps us move into self-protection through the
release of adrenaline, cortisol, and norepinephrine throughout the bloodstream. Just as animals
seek to flee or fight predators, we too rely upon these defense mechanisms to survive. However,
fight and flight are not sustainable over the long term, and when there is no way to escape
an event that threatens our lives, we shift into an immobilization response in which we feel
frozen, shutdown, or collapsed. We can see this “feigned death” in animals who stop moving
or literally faint as a last-ditch attempt at survival. Individuals who have a history of chronic,
repeated traumatic stress can feel trapped by this immobilization response, leading them to feel
disoriented, disconnected, and disembodied.
We now understand that the body “bears the burden” and “keeps the score” of traumatic events
(Scaer, 2014; van der Kolk, 2014). Psychotherapists who emphasize talk therapy may predominantly
focus on the role of the mind as influencing physical well-being; however, a mind-body approach
to trauma recovery is now recognized as essential to successful treatment. We simply cannot think
our way out of our innate, physiological stress and trauma responses. Therefore, the integrative
mind-body model of care presented in this book emphasizes a bidirectional relationship between
the mind and body. This approach balances the traditional top-down approach of talk therapy
with bottom-up interventions that focus on sensations and emotions in order to access the way
that trauma is held in the body.
In this chapter, I examine the neurophysiological impact of complex trauma on the nervous
system through the lens of polyvagal theory (Porges, 2011). Given the role of ANS dysregulation
in C-PTSD, healing practices in this chapter focus on identifying symptoms of hyper- or hypo-
arousal and strengthening clients’ social engagement system to enhance their present-moment
experience of safety and connection. Through small experiments, we invite clients to explore how
subtle changes in posture, breath, movement, and somatic awareness can help them develop a felt
sense of trust, connection, safety, and stabilization.
33
34 The Complex PTSD Treatment Manual
Initial conceptualizations of the ANS posited that it had two branches: the SNS and PNS.
These two branches were thought to function in a reciprocal manner, meaning that when one
was active, the other was disengaged. Within that model, the SNS was described as our “stress
response” system, whereas the PNS was associated with our ability to recover from stress through
a “relaxation response” that allowed the body to rest and digest. More recently, however, the work
of Dr. Stephen Porges (2011) has advanced our understanding of the ANS as it relates to trauma
and PTSD. His work suggests that the ANS actually has three branches and that these branches
are not simply reciprocal; rather, they work in a hierarchical fashion. In particular, he identified
that the PNS has two presentations: In times of safety, the PNS facilitates the classically
understood relaxation and regenerative responses, but in times of threat, the PNS has a defensive
mode in which we collapse, feel helpless, or immobilize into a feigned death or “faint” response.
We can better understand these two expressions of the PNS through Porges’s polyvagal theory,
which provides a deepened understanding of the vagus nerve. The vagus nerve is primarily
associated with cranial nerve X, though it also has shared neurology with cranial nerves V, VII,
IX, and XI. The term vagus is Latin for “wandering,” an appropriate descriptor for this nerve,
which runs down from the brain and connects to the muscles around our eyes, mouth, and inner
ear. The vagus nerve then moves downward to innervate the larynx and pharynx in the throat, as
well as the heart and lungs. It then descends through the diaphragm into our digestive organs,
including the stomach, spleen, liver, kidneys, and small and large intestines. The vagus nerve
can be thought of as a bidirectional information highway that communicates between the mind
and body.
The vagus nerve governs the nervous system’s parasympathetic response, and it comprises two
vagal circuits. The first vagal circuit, which is the most recently evolved part of our vagus nerve,
is called the ventral vagal complex. Porges also calls the ventral vagus the social engagement system
because it connects to the muscles and organs above the diaphragm that are primarily involved
in helping us feel socially connected and safe in the world. The social engagement system gets its
name because it is responsible for facial expressivity, which helps us understand or communicate
emotions. In addition, the social engagement system is responsible for both the expressive and
receptive domains of verbal communication. This guides the rhythm, tone, and inflection of our
speech, which helps provide meaning to our communications. Furthermore, the social engagement
system enhances our ability to listen to others and allows us to pick up on emotional nuances
within communications. We communicate a sense of care and kindness to others when we offer a
soft smile that extends from our face and eyes, or through a resonant tone in our voice that is then
received by the ears of the listener. Given the connections between the vagus nerve and the heart
and muscles of our face, we are also more likely to engage in empathic responses.
The second vagal circuit is an evolutionarily older part of the PNS called the dorsal vagal complex.
Here, the vagus nerve extends below the diaphragm into the digestive organs. When we feel safe,
the ventral vagal and dorsal vagal circuits coordinate a nourishing PNS response that has an
inhibitory effect upon the SNS. Indeed, this allows us to soften into a state of nourishing relaxation.
However, an evolutionarily older expression of the dorsal vagal complex can become dominant
in situations of ongoing threat from which there is no escape. This is an immobilization state of
collapse associated with low muscle tone, slowed heart rate, nausea, dizziness, and numbness.
The Neurophysiology of Complex Trauma 35
From an evolutionary perspective, this “feigned death” response is instinctual in animals who faint
so predators will lose interest in them—because, unlike scavengers, predators will typically not
eat animals who are already dead. This immobilization response is accompanied by the release of
endogenous (i.e., naturally produced) endorphins that have a numbing effect on pain. In small
amounts, these endorphins can provide temporary relief. When complex trauma survivors remain
stuck in this immobilization response, it can lead to dissociation, depression, and chronic physical
health problems.
When we feel threatened, we typically move through a hierarchical sequence of three ANS
pathways, each aimed for survival. When possible, we first try to activate our social engagement
system to reestablish a sense of connection and safety. For example, a young boy who is facing
separation from his mother might initially try to smile or reach out for his mother’s hand for
reassurance or to prevent her departure. If the boy is unable to secure a safe, relational bond, he
will begin to cry or cling. This might evolve into feelings of fear or anger, which may manifest in
terms of the boy running away or beginning to hit his mother. These behaviors indicate that the
child has mobilized into fight and flight through SNS activation, which represents the second step
in the hierarchy. Again, the purpose of these defense behaviors is to reestablish safety. However,
this is often not possible in situations of ongoing threat, such as when a child is being abused or
when a person is held in captivity. For example, if we imagine that this boy has been repeatedly
abandoned and neglected, then he might progress to the third step in the hierarchy, in which
he experiences feelings of defeat and helplessness that are driven by the evolutionarily older
expression of the PNS.
According to Porges’s model, both branches of the PNS serve as a metaphorical “vagal brake” for
the SNS, though they implement this brake in unique ways (Porges, 2011). It is akin to the process
of putting on the brakes when driving a car: We can either slow down by pressing on the brakes
smoothly, or we can slam on the brakes and come to a hard, fast stop. The dorsal vagal complex
functions like an abrupt brake by sending the body into a state of collapse and immobilization.
In contrast, the social engagement system functions as a refined brake that facilitates increases
in physical health and emotional well-being. Although the vagal brake functions to dial down
activation of the SNS, trauma activation sometimes presents as rapid alternation between or
simultaneous activation of both hyper-arousal and hypo-arousal (Kain & Terrell, 2018). In this
case, we can imagine the individual driving with one foot on the gas and one foot on the brakes.
When the nervous system is imbalanced, it is often difficult to find nourishing relaxation or
restful sleep, yet equally challenging to feel emotions of joy, pleasure, and excitement. Here,
we see a classic combination of being both wired and tired as clients describe oscillating between
feelings of panic and exhaustion.
Not only are there two branches of the vagus nerve, but we can also blend the social engagement
system with both the SNS and dorsal vagal complex to create “hybrid” nervous system states.
The social engagement system on its own is associated with feeling calm, connected, curious,
clearheaded, competent, and capable in choosing how to respond to a range of feelings and
experiences. When we feel safe, we can blend our social engagement system with the SNS, which
supports play, laughter, and sexual intimacy. As you can see, this blend allows us to evolve the
crude functions of the SNS into a broader range that supports our adaptive and creative capacities.
When we feel safe, we can also blend our social engagement system with the dorsal vagal complex
so we can connect to the restorative side of the PNS, which allows us to choose to immobilize into
an experience of relaxation, intimacy, and spiritual states often found in meditation.
36 The Complex PTSD Treatment Manual
Drs. Maggie Schauer and Thomas Elbert, developers of narrative exposure therapy for the
treatment of PTSD, describe six stages of trauma reactions: freeze, flight, fight, fright, flag, and
faint (Schauer & Elbert, 2010). The initial stage in their model is a freeze response, which is a
high arousal immobilization response managed by the SNS. This stage is like the proverbial “deer
in headlights” and involves the orienting response of the lower brain regions. The second and
third stages involve flight and fight, respectively, which are also maintained by the SNS. These
two stages facilitate mobilization by increasing blood flow to the heart and muscles of the arms
and lungs. The fourth stage is a fright response, which they describe as dual autonomic activation
that involves abrupt alternations between SNS and dorsal vagal states. In this stage, an individual
begins to feel symptoms of panic, dizziness, nausea, lightheadedness, tingling, and numbness.
The fifth stage in their model is the flag response, which is dominated by the dorsal vagal
complex and leads to feelings of helplessness, fogginess, disorientation, fatigue, numbness, and
physical immobilization. Within this stage, speech can become more difficult, sounds feel distant,
and vision can be blurry. Physiologically, heart rate and blood pressure can rapidly drop, which
can lead individuals into the sixth stage: a faint response. While the faint response is often used
figuratively to represent a collapsed physiological state, in this model, fainting is referred to as a
literal, vaso-vagal syncope. The faint response typically occurs when individuals are confronted
with a life-threatening experience from which there is no escape. The faint response also serves
the survival purpose of placing the body into a horizontal position to increase blood supply
to the brain. Fainting is connected to the emotion of disgust, which leads the body to reject
toxic material; however, this disgust response can also arise when an individual has a witnessed a
violent or horrific event that is perceived as toxic to the psyche.
Psychotherapist and C-PTSD specialist Pete Walker adds another “F” to our complex trauma
terminology (Walker, 2013). In particular, he proposes a “fawn” response that occurs when an
individual engages in appeasing or pleasing behaviors for survival. For example, a child might try
to forestall or dissuade an abuser or attacker by caring for the assailant’s emotional or physical
needs. The child bypasses their own needs—and in some cases, sense of identity—for the sake of
attending to the needs of others. This caretaking system has elements of social engagement because
this submissive response is driven by a need for attachment. Children who experience abuse are
faced with a biologically driven conflict between their need to flee the dangerous environment and
their need to attach to caregivers (Fisher, 2017). This can lead to a dissociative split between the
part of the self that upholds the attachment to the caregiver and the part of the self that holds the
reality of the terror. (We will discuss dissociation in greater depth in chapter 6.)
When children are exposed to repeated or chronic trauma, their developing nervous system and
physiology are shaped within the context of this dangerous environment. In some cases, ongoing
developmental trauma primes the nervous system to progress more quickly into immobilization
because infants and young children do not have the option to flee or fight an abusive situation;
The Neurophysiology of Complex Trauma 37
activation of the SNS is fruitless (Ogden & Minton, 2014). When this occurs repeatedly, this can
lead to a conditioned immobilization response (van der Kolk, 2006), which can also be thought
of as learned helplessness, a quality identified by Martin Seligman (1975/1992) to describe the
powerlessness and hopelessness that is commonly experienced in situations of abuse.
Martin Teicher, a biopsychiatrist at Harvard, has researched the impact of childhood trauma
on the developing brain of young infants and children (Teicher & Samson, 2016). His findings
suggest a loss of gray matter in the prefrontal cortex and more specifically the orbitofrontal cortex.
The orbitofrontal cortex is the part of our frontal lobes that helps regulate activity in the lower
brain centers. It also has many extensions into the sensorimotor cortices of the brain, which help
us consciously reflect on our sensations as related to our memories of the past. According to
neuroscientist Antonio Damasio, somatic awareness is required to help us learn from our past so
we can successfully plan for the future (Damasio, 1999). Our sensations help remind us of the
negative consequences of historical behaviors, meaning that the body can be thought of as our
conscience. However, individuals whose prefrontal cortex is compromised due to trauma may tend
toward impulsivity and immediate gratification of needs without thinking about the long-term
consequences of their behaviors.
Brain scans also reveal decreased hippocampal volume in individuals who have experienced
childhood trauma (Teicher & Samson, 2016). The hippocampus is the part of the limbic system
that is involved in the storage and retrieval of long-term, explicit memories. Explicit memories
help us recall the factual details about events, such as the time, place, and order of events. They
provide the basis for a verbal narrative that helps us develop a coherent sense of self across time.
Therefore, individuals with reduced hippocampal functioning may have a harder time paying
attention, focusing, and recalling factual information.
Also within the limbic system we find the amygdala, a small, almond-shaped structure involved in
the development of implicit memories. In contrast to the verbal narrative associated with explicit
memories, implicit memories maintain the emotional and sensory components of our experiences.
When a traumatic event occurs, the amygdala stores this experience in the form of fear-based
sensory fragments of memories. It is for this reason that specific sensory details surrounding
traumatic events, such as the associated smells, sounds, and felt experiences, are often so strongly
imprinted and vividly recalled. Given that the amygdala is fully formed by the third trimester of
pregnancy, our implicit memory system is also involved in the formation of preverbal memories
during infancy and in utero exposure to stress.
The implicit memory system can also carry the impact of trauma across multiple generations,
with research finding that the descendants of ancestral trauma are more vulnerable to the
development of PSTD after trauma exposure. In particular, research in the field of epigenetics
has found evidence of DNA methylation changes among offspring of trauma survivors,
including women who were pregnant during the 9/11 attacks and children whose parents were
survivors of the Holocaust (Yehuda et al., 2005, 2009, 2006). These methylation changes are
associated with alterations in a child’s capacity to handle stress and may result in greater sensitivity
to sounds and fear of unfamiliar people (Matthews & McGowan, 2019; Wolynn, 2016). While
the sensations and emotions that arise with implicit memories are often strong, we must also
remember that they are not always accurate. In many cases, they only represent fragments of
sensations; they do not necessarily represent an exact replay of the original set of events.
38 The Complex PTSD Treatment Manual
The amygdala receives input from the basal ganglia, a set of brainstem structures that activate
our most primitive defense reactions. For example, when we sense danger, the brainstem initiates
an orienting response that brings our attention to the source of the threat through an instinctual
turning of our head and gaze. This reflexive action is often accompanied by marked anger and
fear. In response to real or perceived threats, the limbic and brainstem structures work together
as the hypothalamus signals the pituitary gland to initiate the release of both catecholamines
(epinephrine and norepinephrine) and cortisol from the adrenal glands via the hypothalamic-
pituitary-adrenal (HPA) axis. This process initiates several physiological reactions, including
increased heart rate, quickened breath, increased muscle tension, dry mouth, disrupted digestion,
and the release of glucose to prepare the body to fight or flee (Ford, Grasso, Elhai, & Courtois,
2015).
Once the immediate threat is over, cortisol communicates back to the HPA axis via a negative
feedback loop that stops the release of our stress hormones. However, chronic stress and
ongoing trauma exposure recalibrate our stress response system and lead to modifications in the
functioning of the HPA axis. In particular, individuals with chronic PTSD tend to have lower
levels of cortisol, which reduces sensitivity in the negative feedback loop and interferes with the
body’s ability to achieve homeostasis. As a result, individuals who have been exposed to ongoing
trauma exhibit an overall ability to recover from stress, interferences in their circadian rhythm,
and digestive disturbances.
Overall, the brainstem and limbic centers become highly sensitized as a result of chronic and
repeated traumatic events. This can contribute to a hyperawareness of facial expressions or body
language, which is a process that can occur with or without conscious awareness. For example,
compared to individuals without a trauma history, those with PTSD are more likely to perceive
neutral faces as aggressive and fearful faces as angry (Bardeen & Orcutt, 2011). In addition,
they are more likely to experience feelings of shame or terror in response to images of smiling
faces (Steuwe et al., 2014). As a result, individuals with a trauma history can falsely perceive
current situations as threatening even when there is no danger. It can be difficult for them
to differentiate between experiences that occurred in the past and what is happening in the
present moment. Moreover, once they perceive that a threat exists, they are more likely to
perseverate on that threat, making it increasingly difficult for them to feel safe. This process can
lead to a vicious cycle of anxiety.
Neuroscientist and author Dr. Joseph LeDoux describes two circuits in the brain associated
with our fear response (LeDoux, 1996): a post-cognitive circuit and a pre-cognitive circuit. The
post-cognitive circuit allows incoming sensory information to be routed to the prefrontal cortex,
which allows us to assess and reflect on our interactions with other people and our environment.
However, when we sense a dangerous situation, a pre-cognitive circuit sends sensory information
directly to the amygdala, which can initiate a defensive response without engaging the prefrontal
cortex. From an evolutionary perspective, this secondary circuit allows us to mobilize self-
protection resources without conscious thought. For example, it would be life-saving to
instinctively climb a tree to escape a lion rather than to have waited too long while we thought
about our options. As we can see, the nervous system can initiate a full-body defensive reaction
before we even fully assess what is happening. Psychologist and author Dr. Dan Goleman calls
this process emotional hijacking to account for the ways in which limbic activation suppresses the
regulating functions of the prefrontal cortex (Goleman, 1995/2006).
The Neurophysiology of Complex Trauma 39
Trauma is also associated with impairments in communication between upper and lower brain
centers. Although PTSD is typically associated with increased limbic arousal, decreased frontal
lobe activity, increased SNS arousal, and elevated levels of cortisol in the bloodstream, individuals
with the dissociative subtype exhibit paradoxical increases in frontal lobe activity and decreases in
limbic activity. They also tend to have decreased activity in the somatosensory cortices, resulting in
impaired bodily awareness (Felmingham et al., 2008; Lanius et al., 2012; Nicholson et al., 2017).
In other words, they tend to feel detached and disconnected from their emotions. Moreover,
individuals with the dissociative subtype tend to have lower cortisol levels and parasympathetic
dominance (Yehuda, 2009; Zaba et al., 2015). Given that cortisol is directly related to our circadian
rhythm, this can cause sleep disturbances among those with dissociative PTSD. Our body’s typical
circadian rhythm tends to peak in the morning, dip after lunch, lift in the late afternoon, and dip
again in the evening for healthy sleep. However, individuals with the dissociative subtype tend to
have a flattened circadian rhythm, which is associated with reduced alertness in the morning and
reduced capacity for restful sleep.
Another interconnected set of brain regions that has been linked to trauma symptoms is the
default mode network. This interactive network of neural structures is associated with brain
activity that occurs when we are not focused on a specific task, such as when we are daydreaming,
reminiscing about the past, and fantasizing about the future. These freely associated thought
processes help us find creative solutions to navigate through challenging situations. However,
alterations in the default mode network have been discovered in individuals with anxiety,
depression, PTSD, and chronic pain (Daniels et al., 2011). As a result, when these individuals
experience or perceive cues of danger and threat, they switch into survival mode with symptoms
of rumination, hypervigilance, and dissociation.
In addition to impaired communications between the upper and lower brain centers, Teicher and
colleagues have found associations between childhood trauma and impaired connections across
the corpus callosum (Teicher & Samson, 2016). Neural connections within the corpus callosal
region allow the right and left hemispheres of the brain to communicate with each other, which
helps us to feel our emotions, put our experiences into words, and counterbalance negative
feelings with positive resources. However, individuals with C-PTSD exhibit reductions in the
area and integrity of the corpus callosum, resulting in poor communication between the left and
right hemispheres of the brain.
The right side of the brain is primarily associated with our ability to express and recognize
emotions. Because the right brain is dominant during the first three years of life, it tends to hold
our earliest attachment memories and patterns of affect regulation. When right-brain activity
is dominant, we tend to feel more emotionally connected to ourselves and others. However,
traumatic memories, especially those related to childhood relational injuries, are also held within
the right brain (Schore, 2010). Therefore, individuals who hold traumatic memories are more
likely to harbor negative emotions and perceptions in the right brain.
In contrast, when left-brain activity is dominant, we tend to feel more analytical and logical. The
rational capacities of the left brain can help us to work through difficulties in a sequential manner.
As related to trauma recovery, the left frontal lobes help us to detach from our distress, which can
allow us to more easily reflect upon on the positive events of our lives (Silberman & Weingartner,
1986). While the left brain can help us to create distance from our emotional distress, too much
40 The Complex PTSD Treatment Manual
left-brain activity can leave us feeling disconnected. The left side of the brain also houses Broca’s
area, which supports our language capacities. Given that traumatic stress compromises Broca’s
area, this can make it more difficult for individuals to talk about traumatic experiences (van der
Kolk, 2014).
Individuals with C-PTSD also tend to be hypersensitive to sound, light, and touch. Again, we
can see a brain-based explanation for these symptoms. All of our memories go through a process
of consolidation, which allows the sensory components of our experiences to be held throughout
the association cortex. This is the part of the brain that unites each of our sensory experiences to
produce a unified perceptual experience of the world. Each sensory system has its own area within
the association cortex that is connected to the lobes of the brain. For example, the parietal lobes
house the somatosensory cortices that are responsible for our sense of touch. The temporal lobes
contain the auditory cortices that help us process sounds and comprehend language, and they
also house the olfactory cortices that are responsible for our sense of smell. Deep within the fold
between the parietal and temporal lobes we find the insula, which houses our sense of taste and
our interoceptive awareness of internal body states, such as hunger, fullness, thirst, and changes in
heart rate. Finally, the occipital lobes are involved with processing visual information.
Teicher has identified specific areas within the association cortex that are overdeveloped in
children as a function of the type of trauma they have experienced (Teicher & Samson, 2016).
In particular, his findings indicate that witnessing trauma (such as domestic violence) is
associated with overdevelopment within the visual cortex, exposure to verbal abuse is linked to
hypersensitivity in the auditory cortex, and sexual abuse is associated with hypersensitivity in the
somatosensory cortices. Importantly, these neuroplastic cortical changes function to protect the
child from the sensory processing of specific abusive experiences and form a neurobiological basis
for dissociative symptoms (Heim at al., 2013).
Returning our attention to the vagus nerve can provide insight into hyperacusis, or hypersensitivity
to high and low frequency sounds, that individuals with C-PTSD often exhibit. The ventral vagus
nerve extends into the inner ear and, in times of safety, functions to tone the stapedius muscle—
which, in turn, engages the tensor tympani to regulate the middle ear bones. This process helps
reduce sensitivity to high- and low-vibration sounds, which allows our ears to be sensitive to the
range of the human voice. However, when we feel unsafe, the stapedius muscle loosens to increase
our sensitivity to high- and low-frequency sounds. In the natural world, animals communicate
danger by using high-pitched screeching sounds, as we often hear with birds or monkeys, and by
attuning to lowpitched growls from predators. Unfortunately, chronic and repeated trauma can
leave an individual hypersensitive to these high- and low-frequency sounds.
Ultimately, having an understanding of the impact of chronic traumatization on the brain and
body provides insight into the different ways that clients with C-PTSD might present in therapy.
Imbalances in the vagus nerve and the subsequent physiology of the ANS can lead them to present
as overwhelmed, anxious, panicky, distracted, unfocused, or hypomanic. At other times, they might
present as shutdown, fatigued, lethargic, or depressed. They can also present as disorientated, may
have difficulty speaking coherently, or may even come across as paranoid and delusional. Without
an understanding of each individual’s trauma history, it is easy to misunderstand and misdiagnosis
these symptoms. However, once we grasp the profound impact of complex trauma, we can better
understand the variable nature of clients’ symptoms. Such understanding allows us to approach
treatment with greater wisdom and compassion.
The Neurophysiology of Complex Trauma 41
Underlying polyvagal theory is the concept of neuroception, which is a term that Dr. Porges coined
to reflect the process by which the ANS constantly scans for and responds to internal and external
cues of safety or danger in our environment. This process is one that happens largely out of
conscious awareness. For example, I once worked with a woman who had been violently attacked
many years prior and who started having flashbacks and acute anxiety symptoms again after
starting a new job. She was frustrated because she had previously worked through this traumatic
event in therapy and thought she was “over it.” At first, she didn’t realize why her symptoms had
re-emerged. However, in therapy she reflected on her new work environment and realized that
one of her coworkers had similar physical features to the man who attacked her years ago. Although
she consciously recognized that her coworker was not her attacker, her body unconsciously
responded to these similarities and made her feel triggered without realizing why. Even as she
spoke about this in session, her heart began to beat rapidly and her breathing changed. We
were able to recognize that this experience was giving her access to an incomplete part of the
trauma that she still held in her body. She was able to work through these feelings safely, and her
symptoms remitted.
We can build a more conscious relationship with the process of neuroception by increasing our
awareness of changes in our nervous system, such as increases in heart rate, changes in our breath,
patterns of tensions in our chest, or subtle changes in our gaze and posture. Doing so in the
context of the therapy session can help clients notice more easily when they are feeling keyed-
up or shutdown. They then have a choice to become curious about these reactions and why they
might be occurring. In addition, in the safety of the therapeutic environment, they can release
unnecessary physiological and emotional activation.
The vagus nerve develops between the first and second year of life, concurrent with the development
of the attachment relationship. Therefore, the quality of the mother-infant relationship has a
strong initial influence over the tone and functioning of the vagus nerve (Insel, 2000). A sensitive
caregiver attunes to the infant’s nonverbal cues—paying attention to the child’s facial expressions,
vocalizations, gestures, and body movements—and this attunement guides the caregiver’s use of
touch, eye contact, and tone of voice, as well as the timing of interactions. Through this attuned
relationship, primary caregivers help regulate the immature physiology of the infant and young
child. In particular, the mother’s ANS regulates the infant’s physiologic state via a right-hemisphere-
to-right-hemisphere limbic system influence (Bornstein & Suess, 2000; Schore, 2001), which has
a long-lasting impact on the nervous system.
Over time, the accumulation of empathic attunement helps reinforce children’s internal sense
of self, which includes ownership of their body and emotions. This process strengthens their
capacity for neuroception. As individuals develop into adulthood, they carry with them this
capacity to sense their own somatic and emotional changes, and they internalize the capacity to be
responsive to their own changing needs, which reflects their ability to engage in self-regulation.
Importantly, the ability to self-regulate is an acquired process that develops in the context of a
42 The Complex PTSD Treatment Manual
secure relationship wherein individuals learn to regulate themselves through mutual regulation
or co-regulation. Co-regulation is an interactive process in which individuals reciprocally regulate
each other’s nervous system by tapping into their social engagement system to promote feelings
of safety and connectedness.
Oftentimes, individuals with C-PTSD have a compromised capacity for self-regulation because
they did not receive sufficient co-regulation in childhood. They did not grow up in a caring
environment characterized by attunement, connection, and safety. However, these individuals can
learn how to self-regulate in the safety of the therapy office by co-regulating with their therapist
when working through distressing emotions or somatic experiences. In this respect, therapy
provides another opportunity for clients with C-PTSD to experience relational attunement,
co-regulation, and the development of neuroception. It also provides them an opportunity
to strengthen vagal tone, which is associated with a greater ability to tolerate or recover from
stress (see chapter 9). Through this process and through repeated practice clients can create new
patterns of ANS regulation.
This next series of clinical interview questions can be used to help your client better
understand the common symptoms of nervous system dysregulation that individuals with
C-PTSD experience. If appropriate, you can explore this list of questions with clients during a
clinical interview. However, if doing so would interfere with the therapeutic relationship, you can
use these questions in the context of more informal conversations intended to get to know the
client better.
The list of clinical interview questions is followed by three healing practices. The first practice
guides clients in building neuroception and increasing awareness of their nervous system state,
which can help them recognize when they are unnecessarily engaging in a defensive state. The
second practice enhances the social engagement system by inviting clients to engage in small
experiments in which they explore how subtle changes in somatic awareness can help them
develop a felt sense of trust, connection, safety, and stabilization. The third practice focuses on
widening the client’s window of tolerance by increasing their capacity to tolerate emotional or
somatic distress. It is important to let clients know that it is their choice to participate in any of
these practices and that there is no “right” or “wrong” answer. You might only explore a single
practice or even just one part of a practice in a session, and I suggest only integrating a practice as
it feels relevant to the moment. For example, a client might share that they have tension in their
eyes and jaw, which could prompt you to engage in a somatic exploration of these areas.
Clinical Interview Questions
Hyper-Arousal Symptoms
Hypo-Arousal Symptoms
Copyright © 2021, Arielle Schwartz, The Complex PTSD Treatment Manual. All rights reserved. 43
Healing Practice
44 Copyright © 2021, Arielle Schwartz, The Complex PTSD Treatment Manual. All rights reserved.
Healing Practice
Copyright © 2021, Arielle Schwartz, The Complex PTSD Treatment Manual. All rights reserved. 45
y Bring your attention to your chest. If you notice any tension around your
chest or shoulders, explore rolling your shoulders forward and back.
Continue moving until you feel more connected to this area of your body.
Now imagine your heart nestled into your lungs and how they are deeply
interconnected. Your breath is a wonderful way to connect to your heart.
Perhaps you would like to bring your hands over your heart and begin to
sense the subtle movements of your breath in the lifting and lowering of
your chest. With this quality of interconnection in mind, explore how it
feels to reflect on a friend or a pet that enhances your sense of connection,
gratitude, and love. As you breathe into this loving feeling, notice any
related sensations in your body.
y Now bring awareness to your belly, and begin to notice any sensations,
tension, or discomfort here. If you would like, bring your hands over your
belly and begin to focus on breathing through your diaphragm, allowing
your belly to rise with each inhale. See if you can release tension by
softening your belly with each exhale. You might choose to close your eyes
and settle into your chair. Notice how you feel as you let yourself be heavy
or relax into support. See if you notice any subtle shifts in your digestion,
such as a soft gurgling in your stomach or intestines, as a result of the
deepening of your breath. Can you sense any other signs that your body is
relaxing in response to your belly breathing?
46 Copyright © 2021, Arielle Schwartz, The Complex PTSD Treatment Manual. All rights reserved.
Healing Practice
Copyright © 2021, Arielle Schwartz, The Complex PTSD Treatment Manual. All rights reserved. 47
4
The Therapeutic Relationship
in Complex Trauma Treatment
C-PTSD tends to interfere with our ability to feel safe, calm, and connected to others.
Interpersonal trauma often betrays our trust in other people and impairs our ability to form
secure, nourishing relationships. However, the greatest predictor of meaningful change in
clients with C-PTSD is the quality of the therapeutic alliance. When we develop rapport with
our clients, it increases the likelihood that they will remain in therapy long enough to benefit from
additional trauma-focused interventions (Pearlman & Courtois, 2005). Therefore, our journey
through this integrative, mind-body approach begins with relational therapy, which invites us to
focus on building trustworthy relationships while understanding that our clients’ symptoms are
best understood within socio-developmental and cultural contexts.
As human beings, we are shaped by the significant relationships in our lives. Relational therapy
focuses on our clients’ relational experiences as they exist both inside and outside of therapy.
Relational therapy is rooted in a psychodynamic approach in which we aim to understand ourselves
and our clients within the context of our earliest childhood relationships, seeing as these have a
profound impact on our sense of self and our interpersonal dynamics with others. Furthermore,
relational therapy as developed by psychiatrist Dr. Jean Baker Miller explores the impact of our
clients’ historical or current social disconnections that developed as a result of abuse, racism,
sexism, class prejudice, and homophobia (Banks, 2006; Frey, 2013).
The goal of relational therapy is to provide a safe place for clients to attend to their relational
wounds while also experiencing new, reparative relational experiences. This asks us to attend
to the impact of power differentials and privilege dynamics within therapy and as they relate to
our clients’ lives outside of therapy. Since relationships are a two-way street, this chapter asks you
to explore your own developmental and cultural history through self-awareness practices. This
allows you to compassionately attend to possible clinical blind spots that can interfere with your
work with clients.
This chapter also offers healing practices focused on co-regulation and relational repair. Ultimately,
the relational learning that occurs in therapy through reparative moments of disconnection
can strengthen our clients’ ability to respond and handle the interpersonal challenges in their
lives with greater care and sensitivity. This chapter concludes with an additional opportunity to
reflect on your experience as a therapist with guidance for self-care around vicarious trauma and
compassion fatigue.
49
50 The Complex PTSD Treatment Manual
Connection is at the core of all human experience. We all share the need to be seen and understood.
We long to belong and to experience ourselves within the context of loving, respectful relationships.
We form our sense of self in the context of others. This process begins in our earliest attachment
relationships and continues throughout the lifespan. During infancy, our nervous system is
dependent upon others to help us feel safe, connected, and calm. Our sense of self develops
through the ways in which we were touched, the quality of the eye contact we received, the
facial expressions or body language we witnessed, and the tones of voices that we heard. Good-
enough caregivers attune to an infant’s needs and respond by providing basic needs for care,
nourishment, excitement, and rest. This empathic attunement helps reinforce the child’s internal
sense of self, which includes ownership of their body and emotions.
When infants and their caregivers interact, there are natural cycles of engagement and disengagement
that occur. During the engagement phase, the infant might make a sound, widen their eyes, and
open their mouth. In response, the caregiver responds by mirroring sounds and facial expressions.
This exchange builds into a playful burst of excitement that is often followed by a period of
disengagement, which the infant initiates by turning their head to the side and looking away.
This period of disengagement initiates a resting phase during which the attuned caregiver
responds by averting their own gaze to honor this temporary quieting. The disengagement phase
allows both the caregiver’s and infant’s nervous system to recalibrate until they are both ready
for another round of playful interaction. Sometimes caregivers misread the infant’s cues for
disengagement, leading them to override the infant’s need for rest. While this is a relatively
common occurrence, when this pattern continues over time, an infant learns to override the
natural rhythm of their nervous system for the sake of connection.
Attachment theory explains how these early developmental experiences provide the basis for
our sense of self. Our memories of these relational interactions are held deep within
the implicit memory system. Children who grow up with caregivers who are predictable,
consistent, attuned, and trustworthy will develop a secure attachment style. They can reach for
connection yet also differentiate themselves from their primary caregiver. They feel supported
in having boundaries and, thus, are able to develop an embodied sense of self. As adults, these
The Therapeutic Relationship in Complex Trauma Treatment 51
individuals are able to move with relative ease between their needs for closeness and their needs
for separateness.
In contrast, children who grow up with distant or disengaged caregivers might adapt by avoiding
closeness, disconnecting emotionally, or becoming overly self-reliant. As adults, they may develop
an insecure-avoidant attachment style, leading them to dismiss their own and other people’s
emotions or needs. Other children may grow up with caregivers who are highly perceptive but
can also be intrusive or invasive. This unpredictable parenting style can lead children to feel
as though they cannot consistently depend upon their caregiver for connection. Consequently,
they may develop an insecure-ambivalent attachment style that is characterized by uncertainty,
anxiety, fears of abandonment, and a sense that relationships are unreliable.
In the most extreme situations of abuse, individuals may develop a disorganized attachment
style. In these situations, children grow up with a parent whose behavior is a source of alarm or
terror. Children are born with an innate, biological drive to attach with their primary caregiver
and an equally strong drive to escape any source of threat. Since infants and young children are
completely dependent upon their parents, those who grow up in an abusive environment must
attach to the very person who is abusing them, and they must disconnect from the reality of
the abuse in order to survive. This pattern often leads to dissociative symptoms in clients with
C-PTSD.
Because we carry our relational experiences inside of us, these implicitly held memories can lead
to relationship problems in adulthood that replay the painful dynamics of childhood. We engage
in behaviors and interactional styles that are consistent with what we know and who we know
ourselves to be. You can think of these early attachment relationships as teaching us a series of
dance steps. We tend to look for others who dance in a similar manner, and if they don’t, we hand
them the instructions. For example, someone who was chronically rejected in childhood might
continue to experience feelings of isolation or carry a belief that they are unlovable. They might
feel overly dependent on others or unintentionally behave in a manner that leads someone to pull
away from them. Conversely, they might carry a deep fear of intimacy that leads them to push
others away when they get too close. Sometimes they might act aggressively or impulsively when
intolerable emotions arise. As you can see, all of these relationship interactions can mimic abuse
experienced during childhood. As a result, it is harder to navigate the typical challenges that arise
when forming intimate relationships, parenting children, or developing meaningful friendships.
So often, therapists feel pressured to focus too heavily on diagnosis and protocol-based
treatment interventions—a process that can sacrifice the genuineness that is necessary to build
relational trustworthiness. The basis for trustworthiness in any relationship is authenticity
and mutuality (Frey, 2013). Mutuality is the foundation of a sense of belonging and social
connectedness, and it is defined as a bidirectional relational exchange in which both individuals
are willing to be changed and impacted by the other. A commitment to authenticity requires
that we, as therapists, work through our own developmental wounds so we can be available
for the relational work with our clients. Often, we build these capacities within a supervisory
relationship that allows us to discuss our clinical work and reflect on our reactions and emotions
52 The Complex PTSD Treatment Manual
as they arise in the context of this work. As a result, we can wisely differentiate between authentic
responses that are relevant to the client’s growth and goals versus responses that are reactive or
self-aggrandizing.
All of our culturally and socially informed experiences are held in our bodies (Bennett &
Castiglioni, 2004; Kimmel, 2013; Nickerson, 2017). We adopt social and cultural rules because
this provides us with a sense of belonging. Our posture, use of eye contact, use of gestures,
and use of space are all reflections of these learned experiences. We develop our own cultural
identity in this way. Inevitably, our interactions with others have embedded dynamics of
power and privilege. This shows up in our willingness to initiate conversations, speak freely,
or take up space. Conversely, historical experiences of feeling disempowered, disrespected, or
violated might show up as withdrawal behaviors, defensiveness, reactivity, or fearful reactions
to another person.
We all carry within us perceptions of ourselves and others based on our cultural heritage.
These form the basis of stereotypes, prejudice, and discrimination based on attributes such
as race, ethnicity, sex, gender, religion, age, or able-bodiedness. Often, these dynamics occur
outside of conscious awareness, but we can learn to take responsibility for our unconscious
culturally-based behaviors. Even if we grew up in a family that endorsed prejudice, we can
reflect on our conditioning and develop new, respectful, and kind ways to relate to people who
are different from ourselves. This process is a cornerstone of successful relational therapy in an
increasingly multicultural world. This requires tolerating the discomfort that can accompany
change and new learning.
Pause for Reflection
y Feeling defensive: Bring to mind a time in therapy when you felt the urge to
distance yourself from a client. Perhaps you began to focus on their thoughts
instead of their feelings. Or maybe you felt detached and dismissive of their
experience. You might have also begun to feel disconnected from your own
body and emotions. Or you might have felt tired and distracted. Perhaps you
began to inadvertently push your client away.
y Can you recall other times in your life when you have felt this way outside
of therapy? Is there a resonance with this relational stance from your own
childhood or attachment history? Were either of your parents distant or
dismissive? In what ways might your history help you understand your
own feelings about your client? Can you sense if this dynamic is connected
to your or the client’s cultural background? Do you notice any parallels
between your feelings and your client’s relational or attachment history?
In what ways might this introspective process help you deepen a sense of
compassion for yourself or empathy for your client?
y Feeling protective: Bring to mind a time in therapy when you felt so
strongly connected to the experience of a client that you had a difficult
time separating yourself from their experience. Perhaps you felt strong
emotions and body sensations during the session. Maybe you continued to
feel these emotions and sensations even after the session was over. Perhaps
you felt responsible for the client’s experience or an urge to rescue them.
y Ask yourself if this experience of merging with another person is familiar
for you. Do you tend to carry the emotions of others? Can you recall
other times in your life when you felt this way outside of therapy? Is
there a resonance with this relational stance from your own childhood or
attachment history? Did you feel responsible for a parent’s emotions when
you were a child? In what ways might your history help you understand
Copyright © 2021, Arielle Schwartz, The Complex PTSD Treatment Manual. All rights reserved. 53
your relationship style with your client? Can you sense if this dynamic is
connected to your or the client’s cultural background? Do you notice any
parallels with your client’s relational or attachment history? In addition, in
what ways might you create a little more space to feel yourself as different
from your client?
y Feeling fearful: Bring to mind a time in therapy when you felt anxious
and unsettled before, during, or after a session with a client. Maybe you
felt uncomfortable or restless. Perhaps you could feel your heart rate
increase or noticed that your breath became shallow. You might have
noticed feelings of aggression toward your client or that you were feeling
victimized by them. Or you might have felt confused and as if you couldn’t
think clearly. All of these are signals that your mind and body were
responding to a feeling of being threatened.
y Can you recall other times in your life when you felt this way outside of
therapy? Is there a resonance with this relational experience from your own
childhood or attachment history? In what ways might your history help
you understand your own feelings about your client? Can you sense if this
dynamic is connected to your or the client’s cultural background? Do you
notice any parallels with your client’s relational or attachment history? In
what ways might this introspective process help you deepen insight into
the reenactment that is occurring in therapy?
y Feeling secure: Bring to mind a time in therapy when you felt centered
and grounded. Perhaps you noticed that you felt more attuned to your
client’s needs and emotions. The session may have had a feeling of flow
and ease, or you might have felt less aware of time. Maybe you even felt
more connected to yourself, your body, or your breath. Can you recall other
times in your life when you felt this way outside of therapy? Can you sense
if this feeling is connected to your or the client’s cultural background? Take
a moment to recall these moments of feeling connected, calm, and secure
both within and outside of therapy. Allow your own nervous system to
be enriched by these memories. Can you imagine cultivating more of this
feeling within your work with others?
54 Copyright © 2021, Arielle Schwartz, The Complex PTSD Treatment Manual. All rights reserved.
The Therapeutic Relationship in Complex Trauma Treatment 55
Co-regulation, also called mutual regulation or social affect regulation, refers to the ways in
which our connections with others help us learn to hold ourselves in a more loving manner. Co-
regulation in psychotherapy provides opportunities for our clients and ourselves to have new,
socially learned experiences of connection, attunement, acceptance, and compassion. Simply put,
we learn to compassionately respond to our own painful emotions when we have experiences
of being unconditionally accepted by others. In this way, we can think of co-regulation as a
precursor to self-regulation.
When we, as therapists, attune to our own body during session, we can sense subtle changes in our
own somatic experience that might provide insight into the experience of the client. For example,
you might notice a subtle tightening in your chest and, as a result, place your hand over your
heart and take a deep breath. By developing this embodied awareness, you model your own self-
regulation. This can then become a nonverbal invitation for the client to breathe more deeply, or
you might use this information to encourage them to sense their body and breath. Your capacity
to regulate your own nervous system not only helps with the client’s ability to regulate their
body and mind, but it also provides a foundation for self-care. For example, tracking your
somatic experiences during session allows you to notice if you are leaning forward in a way that
would eventually leave you feeling fatigued. Or perhaps you notice that you begin to breathe in a
shallow manner as you attune to your client’s anxiety. Such awareness allows you to make subtle
changes to your posture or breathing, which therefore allows you to attend to your own needs
throughout session.
The process of developing this somatic awareness in session allows therapists to apply polyvagal
theory to therapy (Dana, 2018). Here, we facilitate co-regulation as an interactive process that
activates the social engagement systems of both the therapist and client. Although it is common
for clients with C-PTSD to alternate between hyper-aroused and hypo-aroused states, by engaging
in co-regulation, we can help them feel safe and connected even in the midst of a wide range
of difficult emotions and body sensations. Co-regulation requires our own comfort with a wide
range of affective responses and states of arousal. Clients with developmental trauma may have
never had another person who was able to be with them in their distress without that person
becoming anxious, shutting down, or leaving them in the midst of their pain.
Tapping into the social engagement system is not the same as offering support. Many clients
have had their basic needs met by caregivers who did not meet their needs for connection. Social
engagement refers to having experiences of mutuality and reciprocity in which we are open to
receiving clients as they are. When we, as therapists, offer our openness and receptivity to clients,
56 The Complex PTSD Treatment Manual
they feel accepted and understood. By attuning to your own body, it is more likely that you will
notice somatic experiences, such as body sensations and emotions, that parallel the experience of
the client. Somatic psychologist Stanley Keleman calls this process somatic resonance (Keleman,
1987). Within somatic psychology, therapists are encouraged to pay attention to these sensations
as opportunities for transformational moments in therapy. For example, you might share a
momentary heaviness in your chest and accompanying sadness in response to a client’s experience.
This communicates that you have been moved or changed by your client. For the client who was
rejected in childhood, this moment of being received can be profoundly reparative. You have let
them know that they are important, that their presence is felt, and that they make a difference—
all because they have had an impact on you.
The goal of regulating emotions is not to make feelings go away. Rather, the aim is to help
clients build their capacity to ride the waves of big emotions and sensations. Initially, clients
work through overwhelming emotions and somatic experiences with the knowledge that we are
willing to join them in these difficult moments. In time, this process helps them learn that
temporary experiences of contraction can resolve into a natural expansion of positive emotions,
such as relief, gratitude, empowerment, and joy. Ultimately, this process helps clients trust their
own capacity to handle their feelings.
The next healing practice offers relational interventions to bring co-regulation into therapy.
This practice begins by inviting you to focus on your own breath and body sensations to
understand what you are bringing into the therapy room. This self-awareness then serves as the
foundation for rest of the practice, which invites you to notice cues about your client’s nervous
system state, to share your observations with them, and to explore changes in eye contact or
spatial positioning to facilitate greater regulation in relationship. I suggest integrating this
practice when it feels relevant to the moment, with consideration that some clients might feel
embarrassed or ashamed to have their somatic patterns seen or named.
Healing Practice
Explore Co-Regulation
Explore the following relational interventions to bring co-regulation into therapy:
y Notice your own body and sensations: What do you notice in your body?
Do you find it easy or difficult to connect to your emotions? Do you find
that your mind is racing, or do you feel foggy-headed and tired? Do you
feel relaxed or anxious? Are you having difficulty paying attention? How
might your experiences be related to the client’s nervous system state?
What allows you to stay present and feel safe? Do you need to adapt your
posture, move your body, or change how you are breathing so you feel
connected to your social engagement system?
y Observe the client’s nervous system arousal: Notice cues and signals
regarding your client’s state of ANS arousal. Are they restless, fidgety, or
having difficulty sitting still? Or are they unusually still and lethargic? Is
their posture rigidly upright or collapsed? How quickly or slowly are they
speaking? What is the quality of their eye contact?
y Offer your awareness: Ask your client for permission to share an
observation of changes in their affect, sensation, and alertness. Explore how
the client’s self-awareness and your observations are similar or different.
Pay attention to when these changes happen as related to content that is
being discussed at the time.
y Reflect and accept: Before offering any interventions aimed toward
regulation, provide your understanding about the client’s current
experience within the context of their developmental, social, and cultural
history. For example, if they are angry, firmly validate why this anger makes
sense in the context of their experiences in the world. Compassionately
reflect their emotions, allowing your tone of voice or body language
to mirror the intensity of their experience. Even if you or the client are
feeling stuck in the midst of difficult emotions, explore how it feels to
nonjudgmentally accept them and yourself just as you are.
y Explore regulation in relationship: Regulation in relationship involves
recognizing the client’s cycle of engagement and disengagement by
honoring their needs for space and connection. For example, you might
change how close or far away you are sitting from each other. Or you might
invite the client to stand up and explore how it feels to stand facing you, or
if they prefer to stand side by side. Notice your client’s use of eye contact.
Copyright © 2021, Arielle Schwartz, The Complex PTSD Treatment Manual. All rights reserved. 57
There may be times when their eyes widen or look to you for a sense of
reassurance and connection. Notice how you feel as you meet their gaze. In
contrast, there might be times when your client looks down or away. In this
case, ask if it is okay with them if you look away too, and invite them to let
you know when they are ready to reengage with eye contact while verbally
reassuring them that you are still there and that you care. Explore how you
both feel as you respond to the cycles of engagement and disengagement.
What do each of you need to stay connected to yourselves while being in
relationship to each other?
58 Copyright © 2021, Arielle Schwartz, The Complex PTSD Treatment Manual. All rights reserved.
The Therapeutic Relationship in Complex Trauma Treatment 59
When we attune to nonverbal communications, we can sense our clients’ subtle longings for
connection or cues that we have been poorly attuned to their needs. For example, the client might
lean forward toward us or avert their gaze. As therapists, we will sometimes misread some of our
clients’ cues, leading them to feel hurt or rejected, but these small ruptures in therapy can offer
opportunities for repair. Acknowledging these vulnerable moments can offer a contrast to the
experiences of childhood in which relational ruptures were never addressed.
At the same time, a buildup of poorly attuned moments in therapy can result in feelings of
confusion, frustration, and disconnection. Both the therapist and client might play out injurious
patterns from their pasts, which can impair the client’s trust in the therapist. If we do not take
the time to understand our own countertransference, we might engage in behaviors that
inadvertently push clients away or make them feel rejected. For example, we might nonverbally
communicate discomfort through our body language by unconsciously angling our torso away
from a client or carrying tension in our tone of voice. Unfortunately, the accumulations of these
misattuned interactions can lead clients to lose faith in therapy over time.
It is common for shame to arise when our longing for connection goes unmatched or is denied.
Shame is an interpersonal emotion that shows up as embarrassment, humiliation, and shyness.
In the body, shame causes us to blush, look away, hide our face, or collapse our posture. You
can think of shame as a physical act of turning away from something that, in actuality, is deeply
desired. When shame goes unacknowledged, it is common to feel angry and sad. Or when shame
feels intolerable, it may be accompanied by behaviors that lead individuals to disconnect from
their sensations and emotions because it is simply too painful to remain vulnerable. We may see
this in clients who have a difficult time staying with their emotions or sensations.
In a healthy relationship, we recognize and receive these vulnerable emotions as part of a repair
process. This becomes an opportunity to repair moments of disconnection and restore our client’s
trust in us. Relational ruptures that are followed by repair help our clients recognize that
interpersonal conflicts can be resolved. They learn that they are capable of working through
challenging experiences of disconnection, that they can handle the discomfort, and that they will
come out stronger. They learn to share their fears and express vulnerable emotions with someone
who will not reject them or take advantage of them. As therapists, we offer an intention to accept
clients (and ourselves) as they (and we) are. This foundation of acceptance is the ground from
which change and growth is possible. The result is an atmosphere of compassion that is mutually
nourishing. Let’s take a closer look through my process working with Jessica, a Caucasian woman
in her fifties who grew up in a neglectful and emotionally abusive household:
Jessica had a tendency to hold herself to unrealistically high standards. At times, this
manifested as unrelenting self-criticism and perfectionism. She struggled in her relationships
and described feeling exasperated by others’ inadequacies. Nonetheless, she had a tenacious
capacity to keep an optimistic attitude. Often, Jessica would begin therapy appointments
by telling me about her accomplishments or talking about positive moments from her week.
Her upright posture and bright smile were uplifting and contagious. I often felt compelled to
compliment her on her accomplishments.
However, toward the end of many of our sessions, her affect would abruptly change. She would
suddenly announce that she was not getting her needs met in therapy. The warm smile on her
60 The Complex PTSD Treatment Manual
face was replaced by an aggravated expression as she proceeded to tell me of all the ways that
I had disappointed her. Initially, I didn’t know what to make of this shift and struggled with
repairing these experiences, which led to feelings of disconnection for both of us.
As we deepened our work together, I began to explore Jessica’s childhood. I learned that she
grew up in a neglectful and emotionally abusive household. Her mother was only 20 when
Jessica was born and would often talk about how she hadn’t wanted a pregnancy that early in
her life. Her mother proudly told Jessica that she had taught herself to walk by 9 months, potty
trained herself by age 1, and after that, she was “on her own.” Those words “after that, she was
on her own” captured the wound that Jessica carried with her into adulthood.
Jessica was taught not to have needs. Moreover, she learned there was no place for painful
emotions of sadness, hurt, jealousy, or anger. Instead, Jessica became “mommy’s little helper”
and was rewarded for her competence, self-reliance, and ability to care for her two younger
sisters. By the time she was 16, Jessica was relatively independent. She worked two jobs,
continued to help around the house, and drove her siblings to school. While her self-reliance
helped her to survive, it also covered up her underlying unmet needs for care, tenderness,
affection, and understanding.
Despite this deepened understanding of Jessica’s attachment history, I continued to feel
my own anxiety build as I anticipated our painful moments of disconnection in sessions. In
supervision, I explored my fear of her becoming angry with me. I identified how this feeling
was reminiscent of wounds from my own childhood. I recalled memories of myself as a little
girl who had to be good in order to avoid being the target of criticism from a parent. This
realization also helped me understand how my fears had led me to avoid Jessica’s feelings of
anger, hurt, and disappointment. This process deepened my capacity for empathy.
In the next session, I shared with Jessica my sense that her history of having to be the “strong
one” left little space for her feelings of hurt and anger. I also acknowledged that I had not
sufficiently attended to her distress in our work together. Jessica sighed in relief, as she could
feel that there was more room for her feelings. I let her know that it was okay for her to be
angry with me. This statement offered an important repair, especially considering that she
was never able to express her anger toward her mother. This session was a turning point in our
work together. The dynamic did not continue to play out between the two of us, as we were
able to create a safe place to attend to a wide range of her feelings. She shared how grateful
she was to know that her painful experiences and her phenomenal strengths were all welcome
in our relationship.
Within a relational approach to therapy, we recognize that we all make errors sometimes and
that these moments are often a fundamental part of how change happens in therapy (Bromberg,
2011). We will sometimes misunderstand our clients, look at the clock at the wrong time, or
say something inadvertently hurtful. We are all human, are we not? However, it is through a
commitment to a process of repair that allows for new learning. This process requires that we take
responsibility for our own part of the dynamic. Through personal introspection, supervision, or
therapy, we can increase self-knowledge of our own attachment histories and relational learnings.
Furthermore, supervision can help us handle the emotional intensity that can arise during difficult
moments of disconnection or conflict in therapy without relying on defensiveness, withdrawal,
or blame. In many cases, these moments can also become catalysts for our own growth. The next
healing practice provides steps to repair disconnection and ruptures when they happen in therapy.
Healing Practice
Copyright © 2021, Arielle Schwartz, The Complex PTSD Treatment Manual. All rights reserved. 61
62 The Complex PTSD Treatment Manual
Therapist Self-Care
Therapists whose practices specialize in the treatment of clients with complex trauma recognize
the impact that this work has on our own mental, emotional, and physical health. Through our
work, we are in relationships with clients who have experienced intensely disturbing life events.
Sometimes they share the content of those events, which can result in us vividly imagining their
occurrence. Other times clients experience highly distressing physiological and emotional states in
our presence. They might be overwhelmed by anxiety or dissociated and numb.
Working with traumatized clients can evoke feelings of helplessness, hopelessness, despair,
isolation, loneliness, injustice, unfairness, suffering, and rage. A sensitive therapist might feel
the residue of these relational interactions well after the session has ended. If left unaddressed,
these experiences can increase a therapist’s risk for vicarious trauma and compassion fatigue.
Importantly, we can also reflect on the positive effects that arise as we witness the healing,
recovery, and resilience of persons who have survived severe trauma in their lives, a process that
has been termed vicarious resilience (Edelkott et al., 2016; Killian et al., 2017). We too have an
opportunity to grow. We can be changed for the better through our work with our clients.
Pause for Reflection
y What helps you stay present with your clients as they experience
helplessness, despair, uncertainty, disappointment, and loss?
y How do you take care of yourself when a client becomes emotionally
overwhelmed, shuts down, or has dissociative symptoms during a session?
y What support systems do you have in place for times when you feel
emotionally unsettled from your work? What helps you to feel regulated,
grounded, or connected to your center?
y Do you have a supervisor who helps you when you experience challenging
moments with clients? In what ways has your own therapy supported your
role as a therapist? What additional supports might you need when you feel
stuck in your work with clients?
y What meaning-making, spiritual, or self-care practices help you attend to
the weight of trauma processing with clients?
y In what ways have you been changed for the better by your work? Can you
recall moments when you learned more about yourself as a result of your
clinical work? Are there any specific clinical moments that have inspired you
or provided you with a sense of hope?
Copyright © 2021, Arielle Schwartz, The Complex PTSD Treatment Manual. All rights reserved. 63
5
Cultivating Presence with
Mindfulness-Based Therapies
Mindfulness-based therapies invite us to observe our mental, emotional, and somatic experiences
with an emphasis on orienting to the present moment, staying curious and nonjudgmental, and
cultivating self-compassion. Within the integrative mind-body approach to treating C-PTSD,
mindfulness is applied to help clients build tolerance for distressing emotions and sensations.
Distress tolerance involves learning to observe and stay present with difficult feelings while
resisting urges to react or behave impulsively. Over time, this skill helps clients learn that painful
experiences are not permanent; uncomfortable sensations and emotions eventually change.
Sustaining mindful body awareness can be especially important when working with clients with
dissociative symptoms. However, clients might have a difficult time tolerating somatic awareness
because our body sensations have a direct connection to trauma-related memories and emotions.
Therefore, we build their capacity to stay present with sensations at a pace they can tolerate. When
applied during phase one of trauma treatment, mindful body awareness can help clients access a
felt sense of safety that can stabilize dysregulating symptoms. The ability to observe and tolerate
body sensations also supports clients in successfully working through traumatic memories during
phase two of trauma treatment.
There are many therapeutic approaches that integrate mindfulness into psychotherapy. These
include mindfulness-based stress reduction (Kabat-Zinn, 1990), dialectical behavioral therapy
(DBT; Linehan, 1993) acceptance and commitment therapy (ACT; Hayes, 2005), mindful self-
compassion (Germer & Neff, 2019), and the Hakomi method of mindfulness-centered somatic
psychotherapy (Kurtz, 1990). Rather than applying a single modality, this chapter explores
the common factors inherent to mindfulness, which include developing a “witness” capable
of nonjudgmentally observing our experiences, engaging in mindful body awareness, and
strengthening self-compassion. Based on these shared principles, the healing practices in this
chapter offer several different ways that you can guide clients to strengthen mindful body
awareness, all of which can be adapted to meet the needs of each individual.
Mindfulness in Psychotherapy
The integration of mindfulness into psychotherapy begins with cultivating a witness within
ourselves who invites us to become the observer of our thoughts and feelings. Becoming the
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witness is like sitting at the side of river, watching your thoughts and feelings float downstream.
This invites healthy detachment in that we observe our thoughts and emotions rather than
identify with them. We see these experiences as temporary rather than reflections of a static,
unchanging reality. The witness also lets you see the “big picture” or a “bird’s-eye view” of your
inner landscape. Here, you might imagine thoughts and feelings as the clouds and weather patterns
that pass through. Becoming a witness can be especially helpful when these weather patterns feel
turbulent or overwhelming. Mindfulness also relies upon curiosity, which is akin to having a
“beginner’s mind.” When we are curious, we are open to new learning, we are inquisitive about
novel experiences, and we awaken our senses.
The North Wind and the Sun were arguing about which one was stronger. In
the midst of their dispute, they looked down to see a traveler walking along
a path. The man was wearing a cloak and scarf. The Wind boastfully said to
the Sun, “I bet you that I can get the man to take off his jacket faster than you
can!” Agreeing to the bet, the Sun sat back and watched as the Wind blew
gusts that whisked the man’s cloak around his body. However, as the Wind
blew harder and harder, the man only wrapped his cloak closer to his body
and tightened his scarf. All of the Wind’s efforts were in vain. When it was
the Sun’s turn, the gentle beams of sunshine warmed the air. Within several
minutes, the man began to loosen his scarf and unfasten his cloak. Soon he
removed them both.
y This fable is a powerful metaphor for the ways in which the gentleness and
warmth of self-acceptance can soften our defenses and open our hearts.
y In what ways do you approach creating change in your life as if you are
the Wind?
y In what ways do you approach creating change in your life as if you are
the Sun?
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68 The Complex PTSD Treatment Manual
Various neuroimaging studies have found that mindfulness practitioners exhibit enhanced
functioning in the prefrontal cortex and decreased activation in the amygdala, suggesting
that these practices can increase our ability to reflect upon our emotional reactions and make
decisions grounded in logic instead of resorting to our automatic survival reactions (Larrivee &
Echarte, 2018; Raffone, Tagini, & Srinivasan, 2010). Mindful body awareness, in particular,
seems to increase blood flow in the insula, a brain region associated with interoceptive awareness
of sensations, as well as the sensorimotor cortices, which are associated with awareness of our
external senses. Likewise, mindfulness has been associated with improvements in attentional
control, emotion regulation, and PTSD symptoms (Hopwood & Schutte, 2017).
The term mindfulness is often confused with the practice of meditation, which can lead to some
misconceptions about what the practice involves. For example, many individuals may inaccurately
believe that it is necessary to learn specific meditation techniques in order to apply mindfulness
into therapy. Others may associate mindfulness with a specific religion. In actuality, mindfulness
simply encourages individuals to pay attention to present-moment experiences. As applied to
trauma treatment, the goal of mindful body awareness is to draw attention to inner experiences by
attuning to our emotions and sensations with an intention of nonjudgmental curiosity.
Somatic psychologist Dr. Christine Caldwell suggests that mindfulness is better described as the
cultivation of “bodyfulness,” since much of what we are building is our ability to stay present
with somatic awareness (Caldwell, 2018). We develop an embodied sense of ourselves when we
focus our attention to sensations, emotions, body shape, and movements (Fogel, 2009). As we
cultivate our ability to stay present with our sensations, we also become adept at recognizing
when we disconnect from the body. We must remember that many individuals with C-PTSD
have dissociative symptoms. They might already feel as though they are “observing” their
lives instead of “living fully” within themselves. A mindful body awareness approach offers an
alternative to meditation practices that emphasize detachment, which might lead individuals
with complex trauma to feel further disconnected or disembodied. In this way, we can still
integrate mindfulness into psychotherapy in a manner that does not inadvertently reinforce a
client’s dissociative symptoms.
Mindfulness practices can help clients connect to their inner source of wisdom, allowing
them to notice the effects of impulsive behaviors and develop greater coping strategies.
Within DBT, Dr. Marsha Linehan refers to this process as developing wise mind (1993), which
represents an optimal balance between our “reasonable mind” and our “emotional mind.”
Within ACT, Dr. Steven Hayes proposes that difficult emotions are normal responses to
painful life events. Mindfulness can help clients to turn toward these feelings with acceptance,
kindness, and self-compassion—which, in turn, helps reduce their reliance upon avoidance
behaviors. Likewise, the practice of mindful self-compassion helps clients learn to love and accept
themselves just as they are (Germer & Neff, 2019).
The goal of therapy is not to get rid of emotions but to reduce reliance upon reactive and
impulsive behaviors, such as self-harm, substance use, or lashing out toward others. Through the
use of mindfulness practices, we encourage our clients to reflect on their thoughts, emotions, and
sensations prior to taking action. Encouraging a mindset of acceptance helps them to recognize
that uncomfortable experiences do not require that they engage in escape or avoidance strategies.
Instead, they can learn to stay present with difficult emotions and sensations, which increases their
Cultivating Presence with Mindfulness-Based Therapies 69
ability to tolerate distress. Here, we offer a new experience that helps them learn that difficult
feelings are not destructive or the result of a bad attitude; these emotions, as painful as they
might be, are simply meant to be felt. This capacity to tolerate distress has been found to promote
treatment retention, reduce reliance on substances, enhance readiness for trauma processing, and
help with relapse prevention after therapy ends (Boffa et al., 2018).
When incorporating mindfulness into therapy, we must remember that the practice is just as
important for therapists as it is for clients. If we are uncomfortable with our clients’ emotions,
we might inadvertently shut down their process or give them the message that they are “too much.”
In contrast, we can use the co-regulation tools discussed in chapter 4 to provide compassion
and acceptance for their pain. This can be especially important for clients who struggle with
self-compassion. When a client is judging their feelings, then we can offer our compassion and
nonjudgmental acceptance, which then provides a foundation for their own self-compassion. In
time, clients can learn to internalize these experiences and cultivate an attitude of acceptance and
compassion toward themselves. The interpersonal experience helps the client connect to their
own core of wisdom.
Given the importance of mindful body awareness for therapists and clients alike, the healing
practices in this chapter are not just a set of tools or interventions for clients. They are also tools
that therapists should practice in order to cultivate their own mindful embodiment. When we
engage in our own embodied awareness, we nourish the therapeutic environment. Building
upon the relational approach discussed in chapter 4, we are more likely to sense our own somatic
countertransference or resonance with our clients when we attend to our own body sensations.
Mindful body awareness allows us to sense subtle shifts in ourselves that might provide insight
into the inner world of the client. Such awareness can also amplify awareness of what we are
bringing into sessions from our own personal experiences as related to current or historical events.
Increasing self-awareness helps us close the gap between our verbal and nonverbal communications.
Such congruence between words and body language enhances trustworthiness with our clients.
Therefore, I suggest that you explore the mindful body awareness practices provided in this chapter
for yourself prior to introducing them to your clients. These practices offer a nourishing antidote
to a world in which many of us are often rushed, distracted, and divided in our attention. Some
practices may feel easier or more accessible to you than others. You may need to work through
your own discomfort with certain somatic sensations or a tendency to disconnect from your body.
If so, I invite you to be patient with yourself and to return to the practices on a regular basis.
Perhaps you will also view this as an opportunity to enhance compassion for your clients if they
find it difficult to connect to their sensations.
When introducing any mindfulness practice to clients, remember that it is never worth pushing an
agenda that forsakes connection. You can gently encourage mindful awareness in psychotherapy
by making statements such as “Take a moment to check in with your body” or “Notice the
sensations and emotions that you are aware of right now.” If the client is afraid or reticent to
connect to their body, you can suggest that they proceed slowly by focusing on one area of the
body at time and introduce more somatic awareness as the client is ready. It can be helpful to draw
their attention to peripheral areas of the body that tend to be less triggering, such as the fingertips
or toes. It can also be helpful to introduce the concept of grounding, which involves focusing on
sensory awareness in the legs and feet.
70 The Complex PTSD Treatment Manual
In addition, clients can build their tolerance for somatic sensations by alternating between
paying attention to body sensations and paying attention to external sensory stimuli. For example,
a client who is afraid may describe feeling chilled, shaky, and tense around their core. In this
case, you can encourage them to pay attention to what they can see, hear, smell, taste, or touch
in their current environment. You can then gently encourage them to return their attention to
their somatic experience for a few breaths at a time. With practice, this can help them to sustain
awareness of sensation for longer periods of time.
Let’s take a closer look at the integration of mindfulness in psychotherapy with two clients. The
first is Zachary, a middle-aged Caucasian man who suffered from alexithymia and C-PTSD related
to his experiences growing up as a single child with a mother who was clinically depressed:
Zachary had a difficult time feeling his body and his emotions. I learned that his mother had
been diagnosed with depression and that she was distant and dismissive of him in childhood.
He was highly intellectual and could talk about his history with little emotional engagement.
At times in therapy, I would find myself becoming emotionally detached and disconnected
from my own body and sensations. My somatic resonance had led me to feel emotionally
cut off.
In time, these moments of mindful, relational attunement helped him connect to his
body sensations and increased his awareness of his emotions. He was eventually able to
enhance his mindful body awareness outside of session and reported improvements in his
relationships to others.
In contrast, Victoria, a Hispanic woman, was prone to emotional flooding and overwhelm related
to her experiences growing up in a home with domestic violence. She would often describe times
when she “couldn’t stop crying” that would leave her feeling exhausted or depleted for days:
Victoria came into session and began to describe a stressful argument she had with her wife
the day before. While she and her wife had resolved their conflict, Victoria still felt angry,
shaky, and agitated when she walked into my office. After several months of working together,
I had already learned that Victoria felt afraid of connecting to her body. She spoke about how
she would often feel “everything at once.” She was fearful of getting flooded by her tears, as
she would often get headaches after crying.
I suggested that we explore a mindful body awareness practice with a focus on grounding.
She agreed but identified that she felt tentative, as she was still fearful about focusing on
her body and emotions. In order to create safety, I suggested that we begin by focusing her
Cultivating Presence with Mindfulness-Based Therapies 71
attention to her feet. She immediately described feeling less threatened. After a few breaths
experimenting with sensing and moving her feet, I suggested that she bring her attention
to her legs by firmly pressing her feet into the floor so she could feel an engagement of the
muscles in her legs. She took her time to orient to the sensations in her legs, and this time she
reported that she felt more present. She looked at me and around the room and said she was
surprised that she was feeling calmer.
At this point, I invited Victoria to tell me more about her argument with her wife. She spoke
about how the fight had brought up a memory of her parents fighting when she was a young
girl. She recalled feeling helpless and frightened as a young child. Momentarily, she looked as
though she might cry, and then she froze with a look of fear on her face. Noting this abrupt
shift, I gently guided her attention back to her feet and legs and invited her to take as much
time as she needed until she felt grounded and safe. She said that she felt tightness in her chest.
As she brought her awareness to her chest, she started to cry but then reiterated her fear of
“feeling everything at once.” I suggested that she could pace herself by bringing her awareness
to her legs and feet anytime she felt overwhelmed by her feelings of fear and sadness.
Our session continued as she alternated between paying mindful attention to her sensations
related to the past and refocusing her attention to her feet and the here and now. By the end
of the session, she described feeling more connected to her body and emotions without being
overwhelmed. She also described feeling more compassion for herself and more loving toward
her wife.
When introducing any mindfulness practice, it can be helpful to engage in the process along with
your client. For example, explore your own awareness of your breath and somatic sensations as
you invite your client to do the same. Or, if a client brings their hands over their belly, you can
place your hands over your own belly as well, mirroring their movement as a gesture of support.
Notice what changes across sessions as you both include awareness of somatic experiences.
You can offer each of the following healing practices as an opportunity to participate in an
experiment. Remind clients that they have a choice about whether or not they would like to
engage in the practice. Should they choose to continue, let them know that there is no “right” or
“wrong” response to the practice. Remind them that they can end the experiment at any point.
As with all of the healing practices in this book, tailor these to meet the needs of the client.
For example, you might only choose a small part of any practice as it is relevant to the client’s
experience in the moment. If you notice that a client has difficulty with cultivating a witness or
sustaining self-compassion, it may be beneficial to move into parts work therapy as described in
chapter 6 to explore parts that may be blocking or interfering with the practice.
Healing Practice
72 Copyright © 2021, Arielle Schwartz, The Complex PTSD Treatment Manual. All rights reserved.
your awareness and then let them go. If you find it difficult to let go of your
thoughts, feelings, or sensations, then focus on your exhale. Explore a simple
phrase with your breath. Inhale as you say to yourself “I am,” and exhale as
you say to yourself “letting go.” Notice how you feel in your body now.
y There are times when you might notice resistance to painful feelings
or sensations. Becoming the witness is about allowing your thoughts,
emotions, and body sensations to be there without pushing them away or
needing to change them. Notice how it feels to accept yourself just as you
are. You might notice a sense of relief as you embrace your discomfort.
y Take your time with this practice, and let me know when you feel complete.
Copyright © 2021, Arielle Schwartz, The Complex PTSD Treatment Manual. All rights reserved. 73
Healing Practice
74 Copyright © 2021, Arielle Schwartz, The Complex PTSD Treatment Manual. All rights reserved.
y Take a moment to bring your attention to your neck and throat. You might
lean your head forward and back or do some gentle circular movements
to increase sensations here. Then bring your attention to your face and
head. Notice your mouth and eyes. Perhaps you would like to place one
hand on the back of your skull and another on your forehead to amplify
your awareness of the sensations in your head. Continue to explore your
sensations in your head and face for as long as you would like, and then
notice how you feel as you allow yourself to live fully inside of your neck,
throat, and head.
y I invite you to complete this mindful body awareness practice by taking
several deep breaths—noticing your thoughts and emotions after
increasing awareness of your sensations.
Copyright © 2021, Arielle Schwartz, The Complex PTSD Treatment Manual. All rights reserved. 75
Healing Practice
76 Copyright © 2021, Arielle Schwartz, The Complex PTSD Treatment Manual. All rights reserved.
6
Attending to Dissociative
Symptoms with Parts Work Therapy
Parts work therapy recognizes that we all have different states of mind and emotion. Often, we
will deem certain emotions, needs, or sensations as acceptable while pushing away and rejecting
others. It might even feel as if some feelings are more “real” while others are fake or phony. In
truth, all parts of our self are real, important, and necessary. However, it is common to experience
conflicts between opposing emotions or needs. For example, there may be times when we both
love and hate a parent. Or we might have a part that longs to be close to a loved one while
another part feels fearful of intimacy. Sometimes these internal conflicts may be too disruptive
for us to hold within our sense of self. In this case, competing needs can become polarized within
us, leading to anxiety, indecision, procrastination, or self-sabotaging behaviors.
When an individual has a history of chronic, repeated trauma, there can be a greater divide
between these different parts of the self and a greater likelihood of dissociative symptoms. In
some cases, they might feel an unrelenting need to be perfect, be plagued by a harsh inner critic,
or exhibit self-aggressive tendencies that lead them to feel at war with themselves. They might
also feel as though they are cut off from their feelings or as if they are going through the motions
of their lives without meaning or a sense of connection. Often, individuals with C-PTSD report
alternating between feeling disconnected from their emotions and overidentifying with their pain.
There are several different approaches to parts work, including ego state therapy (Forgash &
Copeley, 2008; Shapiro, 2016; Watkins & Watkins, 1997), Internal Family Systems therapy
(IFS; Schwartz, 1997), structural integration theory (Fisher, 2017; van der Hart et al., 2006),
and Gestalt therapy (Perls, 1992). Rather than applying a single model of parts work therapy,
this chapter offers a common factors approach that focuses upon three key premises. The first
premise is that the human mind is capable of conflicting thoughts, feelings, and needs. The
second is that our parts are reflections of our family of origin. The third is that all parts are
important. Based upon these common factors, this chapter guides you through a model of parts
work that begins by helping clients understand the value of parts work. From here, we help
them deepen awareness of their own parts. In some cases, this requires support to help them
stay oriented in their adult self so they can differentiate from younger or self-sabotaging parts.
Ultimately, this process helps clients repair missing experiences of nurturance or protection that
they needed at earlier times in their lives.
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Different parts of the self can be considered different ego states (Forgash & Copeley, 2008; Shapiro,
2016; Watkins & Watkins, 1997). For example, there may be times when we feel younger than our
current age, such as when we return to visit our childhood home. This “inner child” connects us
to the emotions and sensations related to events or memories from childhood. Additionally, we
tend to internalize our relational experiences with parents and primary caregivers. That’s because
when we attach to another person, they become a part of us. In Gestalt therapy, this process is
called introjection, which is defined as adopting or incorporating the behaviors and attitudes of
another person so strongly that they can no longer be separated from our own sense of self.
Introjection can be thought of as a loss of boundaries between the self and other, or a loss of the
self. As a result, it may be difficult to differentiate between this sense of “other” and our own
identity. For example, a critical parent might become the voice of our own self-critic, or a neglectful
parent might lead us to dismiss our own or others’ feelings and needs. Or a client who experienced
abuse in childhood might introject the abuser. When individuals overidentify with abuse, this
can manifest as self-loathing, negative self-talk, self-harm behaviors, and urges to act aggressively
toward others.
You can think of introjection as the process that occurs when children form an attachment to a
parent or caregiver even when that person is also the source of pain, fear, confusion, or rejection.
In these situations, children might respond by taking care of the parent or by restricting any
expressions of their anger or distress toward the parent in the hope that doing so will reduce the
likelihood of more neglect or abuse. In many cases, children begin to turn these negative feelings
toward themselves. In Gestalt, this process is referred to as retroflection. In adulthood, retroflection
is often the root of depression, somatic symptoms, and self-harm.
Children will attach to a parent, even when that person is a source of danger or abuse, because
they are completely dependent upon their parents for food, shelter, clothing, medical care, and
a sense of belonging. Attachment is necessary for their survival. Because there is often no way to
leave the abusive household, children must make the dangerous environment tolerable. In many
cases, they must uphold an image of a “normal family” when going to school or church as part
of an unspoken expectation of loyalty. In addition, children often receive praise and attention
from the very adults who abuse them, which can lead to a profound sense of confusion. Similar
dynamics can occur when the abuse is perpetrated by a teacher, coach, or religious leader. Feelings
of powerlessness and shame tend to exacerbate a sense of isolation, leading children to refrain
from sharing the “secret” of the abuse.
Psychologist and complex trauma specialist Dr. Janina Fisher describes this core conflict among
young children who are being abused: They are caught between their biological drive to attach
to the parent and their survival instinct to flee the dangerous environment (Fisher, 2017). In
some cases, children begin to rely heavily on fantasy in order to survive. They might create an
idealized mother or father in order to dissociate from reality. These fantasies often incorporate
inaccurate beliefs about the self as being at fault or responsible for the abuse. Psychologist Dr.
Jim Knipe (2015) suggests that it is utterly unfathomable for a child to contemplate that they
are a “good kid” relying on “bad parents,” so they form the narrative that they are a “bad child”
relying upon “good parents.” In turn, they conclude that something is wrong with them, that the
abusive situation is entirely their fault, or that they do not deserve to exist. This process displaces
Attending to Dissociative Symptoms with Parts Work Therapy 79
the blame of the abuse or neglect onto the self. These thoughts may also arise because it gives the
child a semblance of control in believing that they are the source of the problem.
Even well into adulthood, individuals with C-PTSD tend to uphold an allegiance to their abusers
from childhood. This form of Stockholm syndrome can be seen in persistent idealization of family
members or a need to maintain loving emotions toward abusers. Clients with a history of complex
trauma might feel guilty if they speak poorly about their family, or they might feel as if the abuser
still has control over their life. In some cases, clients might have difficulty acknowledging that the
traumatic event happened, or they might minimize the significance of the event. For example, a
client might talk about a “wonderful father” and then share incongruent memories about substance
use or domestic violence. This lack of realization about the impact of traumatic events can feel
disorienting to both the client and therapist. Sometimes this can lead the therapist to sense the
unrealized feelings or sensations in themselves. For example, you might feel anger, sadness, or fear
while the client reports feeling nothing at all.
From the framework of parts work, individuals avoid acknowledging or remembering the
abuse by cutting off the parts of the self that hold trauma-related emotions and memories
or sending them into “exile.” They cannot integrate these feelings into an overall sense of self
(Schwartz, 1997; van der Hart et al., 2006). It can feel threatening when these emotions of
fear, dependency, rejection, or rage come to the surface. In these moments, they might try to
manage their experience by pushing unwanted emotions away, working excessively, or becoming
controlling with themselves and others. In addition, because reminders of the trauma exist within
the body, individuals with C-PTSD often disconnect from their sensations. This can lead to
derealization and depersonalization symptoms in which they feel as if the world around them isn’t
real, as if their body and actions are not part of them, or as if they are living in a fog.
Pushing away the emotions, sensations, and memories that are connected to traumatic events
can leave individuals feeling disconnected or as if they are just going through the motions of their
lives. Over time, they might feel like an imposter. The structural dissociation model calls this
the “apparently normal part” of the personality (van der Hart et al., 2006). However, we must
remember that this part helped the individual survive. This part helped a child growing up in an
abusive situation to find a safe haven by continuing to go to school, attend church, or visit with
friends. In these safe environments, children could act as if they were living a “normal” life even
if they could not speak about the reality of their home environment.
In some cases, clients develop complex internal systems with several “exiled” parts that are stuck
as if they are living in the time of the trauma. Some parts of the self might present in a state of
hyper-arousal, as expressed by hypervigilance, restlessness, irritability, aggression, rage, anxiety,
panic, or uncontrollable crying. Other parts might present in a hypo-aroused state, leading
to them to feel lethargic, emotionally dull, helpless, tired, shutdown, numb, disconnected, or
depressed. In other words, dissociative symptoms can be thought of as dysregulated states of
physiological arousal that are outside of the client’s window of tolerance. You might begin to
sense that a client is experiencing dissociative symptoms even if they do not tell you directly. For
example, you might notice that they do not recall a notable conversation you had with them or
that they do not recall writing you an email that you received. Or you might notice changes in
their tone of voice or posture that indicate that they have connected to feelings held by a young
part of the self. Furthermore, you might notice changes in how you feel in the room with your
client, such as suddenly feeling tired or having difficulty focusing.
80 The Complex PTSD Treatment Manual
Dissociation is also often experienced as disorientation in regard to the timing of traumatic events.
The client might inaccurately believe that frightening events from the past are still happening
or could easily happen again. For example, a woman had a historical experience of living in an
unsafe home that had been repeatedly burglarized. As a result, she suffered from hypervigilance
that prevented her from falling asleep at night, even though she was living in a safe home and
community at this stage of her life. Another client would shift into a young part of himself that
was connected to memories of physical abuse. In these moments, he would reexperience the
emotions and sensations as if the abuse was currently happening. Clients might also describe
feeling as though their body is foreign and not a part of them. For example, one man described
his experience to me as though he were an astronaut floating through space.
Often, a caring, nonjudgmental conversation about dissociation—as well as its associated
symptoms, such as addiction and self-harm—can help reduce the sense of stigma the clients
carry, which increases the likelihood that they will speak openly about their symptoms (see the
clinical interview questions from chapter 1). Take some time to explain to clients that developing
an awareness of their dissociative symptoms can help them to take better care of themselves. It
can also be helpful to let them know that recognizing the early signals of dissociation can allow
them to respond before symptoms worsen. Throughout this process, you can help the client stay
grounded by returning to the healing practices that focus on the window of tolerance (chapter 1),
attentional control (chapter 2), the social engagement system (chapter 3), co-regulation (chapter
4), and mindful body awareness (chapter 5).
The goal of parts work therapy is to help clients realize and integrate the disowned emotions
and traumatic memories held by exiled parts of the self. Initially, this often involves helping the
client become aware that a part is present. A part might show up in emotional states, such as
when a client feels overly dependent upon others, feels helpless, begins crying uncontrollably,
or speaks like a young child. Other common signs of parts include self-criticism, perfectionism,
self-aggressive tendencies, idealization of an abuser, a tendency to dismiss their own emotions or
needs, procrastination, and indecision. You might also notice changes in posture, tone of voice,
or use of eye contact, which suggest that the client is in another ego state. Or you might notice
dissociative symptoms in which the client suddenly feels dizzy, foggy, tired, or numb. Physical
symptoms of pain also suggest the presence of a part that has been somaticized. For example, you
might notice that the client gets a headache, experiences a sudden pain in their body, or feels
nauseous before, during, or after sessions.
We can also help clients identify parts of the self by inviting them to bring into session a
photograph of themselves as a child. What do they notice as they look at the photograph? What
emotions do they observe in their face or body language? What emotions are they aware of now?
How do they feel toward this part of themselves? Alternatively, you can invite the client to draw
a picture or create a collage that represents a part of themselves. Upon completion of this creative
process, have them explore the colors or images they chose to represent the part and how they feel
as they look at the drawing.
Another way to help clients identify parts is to invite them to create a meeting place for all of their
parts, either in their mind or on a piece of paper. This might involve imagining a conference table,
Attending to Dissociative Symptoms with Parts Work Therapy 81
campfire, or other gathering place. Invite the client to bring in parts of all different ages, such
as a baby, inner child, teenager, or adult part. Or they might have parts that represent different
emotions, such as a shameful, fearful, angry, joyful, courageous, or loving part. In addition,
you can suggest that they include parts that represent strengths or challenging aspects of their
personality, such as a creative, hard-working, critical, perfectionistic, or neglectful part. Once the
client places each part in the meeting place, you can ask them to describe the relationship between
different parts of themselves. If they have created a drawing, you and the client can explore the
placement of each part. For example, you might notice that some parts are located close to one
another while others are placed far away. Or you might discover that there are parts who reject or
feel threatened by other parts of the self.
Once you are aware that a part is present, you can help the client deepen their awareness of
that part. One way to help clients differentiate from this part is to use the empty chair technique
from Gestalt therapy. This process involves inviting the client to imagine a part of the self in an
empty chair and facilitating a dialogue. You can place any kind of part in the chair, whether that
be a part that represents the client’s inner child, self-critic, parent, or abuser. Since all parts are
important, it is important to give each part a chance to have a voice. If a client is struggling with
self-criticism, you can invite them to put the inner critic in a chair and invite a dialogue between
the part of the self who is critical and the part who is feeling criticized. Or, if the client is having
difficulty making a decision, you can have two chairs, each representing the two possible sides of
the decision. For example, a client who has an ambivalent relationship with a historically abusive
mother might say, “Part of me wants to talk to my mom, and part of me is scared to call her.” In
this case, each chair represents the two sides of the decision. In most cases, you can invite the
client to move in and out of each chair while encouraging a dialogue that allows them to hear
the voice and needs of both parts of the self. In each seat, they have an opportunity to mindfully
increase awareness of their emotions or sensations.
As we progress into parts work, you might notice that the client is strongly identified or “blended”
with a part (Schwartz, 1997). They might be overidentified with a young part of the self or with
a critical part. Blending is the result of a behavior that once allowed the individual to “fit in”
with others and, in some cases, to survive an abusive environment. Children typically adopt
the attitudes, beliefs, body language, and tone of voice of their caregivers—and in an abusive
environment, this means the child might internalize the harmful messages, behaviors, and body
language of an abuser as a part of the self. This process helps children predict future abusive
behaviors by allowing them to recognize the facial expression or tone of voice associated with
episodes of abuse. As adults, not only might these clients remain blended with their abuser, but
they also might identify with the adaptive strategies they relied upon as a child to survive the
abuse, such as remaining docile or subservient to avoid upsetting the abuser.
When clients are blended with a young part of the self, they will be more likely to rely upon
these same behaviors in their adult relationships. In psychotherapy, we aim to help clients
differentiate or unblend from these parts. Paradoxically, we often need to help clients hear the
voice and understand the needs of each part before they will differentiate from that part. However,
in many cases, the client is so blended with a part that we must help them anchor their awareness in
the “adult” self that is oriented to the here and now. Within IFS, this process involves connecting
to the “Self,” which is described as the core of the individual that has qualities of compassion,
confidence, creativity, courage, clarity, calmness, connectedness, and curiosity (Anderson et al.,
2017; Schwartz, 1997).
82 The Complex PTSD Treatment Manual
When we invite our clients to connect to their adult, present-centered self, we help them access
the internal resources that can help them respond more effectively to distressing emotions. With
their awareness anchored in the adult self, it is easier for them to recognize choices that may not
have been available to them when they were a child. In the past, they might not have been able
to set boundaries, leave an abusive situation, or speak up for themselves. Orienting to the present
moment helps clients realize that these events are over and in the past so they can now protect or
nurture themselves in a new, healthy manner. As clients strengthen their relationship to their
own adult self, they can become a source of consistency, reliability, and love for themselves.
When using parts work in the treatment of C-PTSD, it is important to help clients unblend from
any parts that are overidentified with their abuser prior to working directly with the parts that
hold their vulnerable emotions and memories. The goal of this process is to help clients redirect
their feelings of anger, repulsion, hatred, and disgust to their rightful source. Most often, we
must honor the client’s pace in letting go of an overidentification with a young part of the self
or with an abuser. In some cases, this process can feel threatening to the individual’s conscious
sense of self-identity. Clients may fear that they will lose a part of themselves or that they will
no longer be able to protect themselves. This process can feel like a tremendous loss of identity,
which can involve grieving the remnants of hope that their abuser would finally meet their needs
for attachment, love, and acceptance. We can remind clients that we are not getting rid of
any part of them. Rather, we are giving them access to more of themselves. We can also
help them recognize that their needs for protection and nurturance can and will be met through
other, healthy relationships, including the therapeutic relationship.
Once a client is no longer identified with the abuser, parts work can turn toward the vulnerable
emotions and unmet needs of young or exiled parts. Often, this involves facilitating repair
scenarios using imaginal techniques. In particular, clients can engage in visualization practices
that focus on resolving the wounds they experienced when they were young. We can remind
clients that all children deserve to be nurtured, protected, unconditionally accepted, and have
their boundaries respected by caring, safe, and wise adults. We can facilitate repair by inviting
the client to imagine the needs of a young part of the self. Once clients have identified a need,
we can invite them to imagine attending to this young part by providing care, protecting it, or
rescuing it from an unsafe environment. This process might also involve retrieving a part of the
self that is stuck in the past and bringing it into the present. If it is difficult for a client to hold
compassion for a young part, you can have them imagine another adult who can serve as an ally
for the young part. Let’s take a closer look at parts work through the experience of working with
Mateo, a young man in his early twenties who was diagnosed with C-PTSD and struggled with
dissociation and self-harming behaviors:
Mateo described feeling like he was in a daze, but at times, his pain would penetrate the
numbness. That is when he would cut himself. In the months that I had worked with Mateo,
I learned that he grew up in a house with a physically abusive and alcoholic father. Not only
was he abused, but he also witnessed his father attack his mother. In one of his most disturbing
memories, Mateo described seeing his father threaten his mother while holding a gun in his
hand. The worst part of the experience was feeling frozen and helpless.
I asked Mateo to imagine his young self in that scene, and his face contorted into a look of
disgust. Talking about himself in the third person, he stated, “That boy could never stand up
Attending to Dissociative Symptoms with Parts Work Therapy 83
to his father. That boy is repulsive!” Mateo had internalized the anger he felt toward his father
and was directing this feeling toward himself. I suggested that Mateo imagine his father sitting
in an empty chair across from where he was sitting. Then I asked Mateo what he would like to
say to his father, perhaps something that he could not have said to his father when he a child.
At first, Mateo became very quiet. He lowered his gaze and seemed to touch into the helplessness
and shame that he felt as a young child. He looked frozen. After several minutes, he shook
his head as if to say, “I can’t speak.” I offered that he could take a moment to look around
the room and sense that he was here, now. I reminded him that he was 23 years old and
that his father could not hurt him now. I knew that he had been practicing tae kwon do for
several years and suggested that he imagine connecting to his center. In response, Mateo took
several deep breaths and nodded.
Once he was feeling grounded and resourced, I asked him to once again imagine what he
wished he could have said to his father. This time, Mateo lifted his gaze toward the empty
chair and he said, “I hate you! You were the one who was repulsive, not me.” His face was red
and his eyes widened. Then he began to cry as he continued to speak. “It wasn’t my fault! It
never was. I didn’t do anything wrong!” After several minutes, he quieted. When I asked what
he was noticing, he said, “I can see more clearly, like a fog has lifted.”
Next, I asked Mateo what he imagined he needed most when he was a young boy. He shrugged
his shoulders. After a period of silence, I asked him if there was anyone from his life now who
he wishes could have supported him when he was a young boy. He shared that his martial arts
teacher was the first person to whom he ever spoke about his childhood. It was this teacher
who suggested that he come to therapy. I suggested that he imagine his teacher going back
in time and talking with him as a young boy. I asked, “What would it have been like to have
your teacher with you?” He recognized that his teacher would have seen how afraid he was and
how helpless he felt. His teacher would have helped to protect him and would have stopped
his father from hurting his mother. Once again, Mateo began to cry as he imagined this scene.
As the session came to a close, we acknowledged that we couldn’t change the past, but we
could help him stop blaming himself for these events from his childhood. A therapy progressed,
he had several more “conversations” with his father. During one of the empty chair dialogues,
Mateo was sitting in his father’s seat and shared a new awareness. He said, “My father was
abused as a child too. He didn’t know how to be a dad.” This realization evoked a spontaneous
feeling of compassion for his father and for himself.
Importantly, we must remember that, as therapists, we have parts too. At times, our clients’ parts
can trigger parts in us. When this occurs, we might approach therapy from a part of our self,
rather than from our adult self. For example, if we have parts that are phobic of the emotions
that a client’s parts carry, we might collude with the client’s defenses in an attempt to keep these
emotions at bay. Therapy might begin to feel stagnant, and we may feel stuck with a client. In this
case, we can utilize supervision or consultation to explore any countertransference dynamics the
client is evoking within us and identify whether we are blending with a part of our self.
The rest of this chapter offers healing practices that introduce clients to parts work and that help
them identify and deepen awareness of parts, anchor the adult self, differentiate from a part, find
resources for a part, and repair a missing experience.
Healing Practice
y Imagine a beach ball that is being held under water. This beach ball
represents unwanted emotions, sensations, images, and thoughts related
to your traumatic past. Initially, you might desire to push the ball under the
water. In the short term, this might not feel difficult and can even feel good.
y However, over time, you might begin to grow tired. It takes a lot of
energy to hold all of this underwater. It wants to come to the surface. It is
increasingly effortful to push it all down.
y Inevitably, you get distracted. Maybe you lose focus because of a fight
with a family member, a bad dream, or an incident where you drank too
much. The next thing you know, the beach ball slips through your hands
and bursts out of the water, creating a big splash. All of your feelings and
memories come to the surface. This can feel like a crisis, and you are left
cleaning up the mess. This can lead to a vicious cycle as you quickly push
the ball back under the water.
y In order to heal the trauma from the past, it is important to allow the
beach ball to come to the surface slowly. To do so, you must attend to the
pain in small bits. Each time you bring your awareness to your memories,
sensations, and emotions, you reduce the pressure, and the ball comes a
little closer to the surface but at a pace that you can tolerate.
y Once you have worked through enough memories connected to your
traumatic past, you no longer feel threatened by these feelings or images.
Now the beach ball rests on the surface of your awareness. You no longer
need to push any part of yourself away. You have freed up all of the energy
that was bound inside of your effort to push it all down. This energy is now
available for your life.
84 Copyright © 2021, Arielle Schwartz, The Complex PTSD Treatment Manual. All rights reserved.
Healing Practice
y All of us have parts of ourselves. For example, you might recall times when
you have felt young, small, or helpless. Other times, you might have felt
self-critical or controlling of others. Or there may be times when you feel
disconnected from yourself.
y Some parts may be easier for you to like or may feel more familiar. You
may have other parts that you would rather push away. For example, some
people feel capable or confident when they go to work but lonely or sad
when they come home at the end of the day. It is common to experience
conflicts between parts. Additionally, there may be a part of you that wants
to heal and part that is afraid of feeling your emotions.
y Even if you do want to make room for your emotions, you may feel blocked
by a part who criticizes, rejects, or blames the part of you who is vulnerable.
Or you might feel the need to manage your distress by seeking a sense of
control, by needing to be perfect, or by staying excessively busy. While it
might seem counterintuitive, you can think of this critical or controlling part
as a protector who has been working hard to shield you from feeling your
pain. When it is left unaddressed, you are more likely to feel stuck in your life
or unable to meet your goals.
y Parts work addresses this internal conflict by helping you gain access to
the vulnerable exiled parts of yourself that are often hidden underneath
your protective defenses. These exiled parts hold the painful emotions,
sensations, and memories related to the traumatic events from your past. In
time, you can help these exiled parts release their burdens.
y You can release these burdens by connecting to an inner source of wisdom
that you carry within you—known as your adult, presented-centered
self—which is always available to support your healing journey. You know
that you are connected to your center when you feel calm, clearheaded,
and courageous. Once you are connected to your wise self, you are able
to tap into your intuition and your intellect. This allows your adult self to
turn toward all parts of yourself with curiosity and compassion, which is a
process that allows you to attend to and heal the wounds from your past.
Copyright © 2021, Arielle Schwartz, The Complex PTSD Treatment Manual. All rights reserved. 85
Healing Practice
Understand Emotional
Dysregulation as a Part
y Often, when we are afraid to feel certain parts of ourselves, they show up
as dysregulated emotions or sensations. Until you bring conscious and
compassionate awareness to these feelings, these parts are likely to remain
outside of your window of tolerance.
y Take a few moments to notice your feelings of… [If the client is hyper-aroused,
this might involve anxiety, overwhelm, panic, or agitation. If the client is
hypo-aroused, this might involve depression, hopelessness, despair, or shame.]
y See if you can become curious about this feeling. In what ways are these
feelings familiar? Can you imagine that this feeling is connected to a part
of you that felt this way in the past? Can you recall specific times that you
felt this way? How old does this part of you feel? In what ways might this
part try to protect you from your vulnerable feelings? Or perhaps this part
is carrying your vulnerable feelings. Either way, do you have a sense of what
this part of you might need?
86 Copyright © 2021, Arielle Schwartz, The Complex PTSD Treatment Manual. All rights reserved.
Healing Practice
Copyright © 2021, Arielle Schwartz, The Complex PTSD Treatment Manual. All rights reserved. 87
Healing Practice
88 Copyright © 2021, Arielle Schwartz, The Complex PTSD Treatment Manual. All rights reserved.
Healing Practice
Copyright © 2021, Arielle Schwartz, The Complex PTSD Treatment Manual. All rights reserved. 89
Healing Practice
y This practice is to help you connect to your adult self. I’d like you to imagine
that you are connected to your center. This is a place within you that can
serve as a source of clarity, curiosity, and compassion.
y Take a few breaths and notice how you feel in your body. See if you can
fine-tune your posture so you feel connected to your core. You might
explore how it feels to lengthen your spine as you take a deep breath. Or
notice how it feels to stand up tall. Continue to explore your posture until
you find a stance that helps you feel strong, courageous, and calm.
y Feel yourself in the body of your adult self. Take a look at your hands and
notice that these are the hands of an adult. If you are able, stand up and
recognize that you are in an adult body by reaching up to the top of a door
frame. Remind yourself that you are an adult now and that you are safe.
y Orient to the time and date by looking at a clock or calendar. Notice the
current date and time as a way to reinforce that you are an adult and not
a child.
y Think of activities that you can do in your life now that were not possible
when you were a child. For example, you can drive a car, go to work, take
care of your own children, and vote.
y Explore bringing a warm, gentle smile to your face. Relax your face and
slightly lift the corners of your lips. Invite a soft smile to your eyes. As you
engage in this smile, allow a relaxed feeling to spread across your face,
head, and shoulders. Notice if you can connect to a feeling of peace.
y Bring your attention to your heart by taking several deep breaths into your
chest. Perhaps place one or both of your hands over your heart to enhance
your connection to this area of your body. As you connect to your physical
heart, I also invite you to notice the qualities your heart represents:
warmth, generosity, and love. Notice how it feels to know that these
qualities are always there inside of you.
90 Copyright © 2021, Arielle Schwartz, The Complex PTSD Treatment Manual. All rights reserved.
y Now take several deep breaths into your belly. Again, you can place one or
both hands over this area of your body to enhance your awareness. The area
in your lower abdomen, about two inches below your navel, has been called
the Dan Tian in the Qigong tradition and is considered a center of inner
strength. As you focus your attention here, imagine being connected to a
source of stability that can help you from being pulled out of balance by
people or situations in your life.
y Now that you are connected to your adult self, take some time to notice
your thoughts, emotions, and body sensations. Perhaps you notice that
you feel more grounded, are more connected to your center, or have
an increased sense of clarity. If so, allow yourself to savor and enjoy
this positive experience. You can reconnect here as often as needed by
returning to these practices.
Copyright © 2021, Arielle Schwartz, The Complex PTSD Treatment Manual. All rights reserved. 91
Healing Practice
This practice asks questions and offers suggestions to help the client unblend
from a critical protective part and, when needed, to differentiate from a young
exiled part. Ultimately, this will help the client gain access to the vulnerable
emotions held by the exiled part so resolution and healing can be achieved.
Importantly, it is common to move between the previous healing practices
regarding parts work as you explore this practice:
y Now that you are connected to your adult self, I invite you to turn toward
the part of you that feels… [e.g., young, anxious, sad, not enough, worthless,
lonely]. Notice how you feel toward this part of yourself. What is it like to
witness this part of you? From the perspective of your adult self, what do
you believe about this part of you?
If the client appears blended with a critical or rejecting part of self—limiting the
client’s ability to explore their younger, more vulnerable part—then explore the
following questions and statements.
y I notice that you are feeling critical toward the part of you who is feeling…
[e.g., young, anxious, sad, not enough, worthless, lonely]. I understand that
this criticism once served to protect you. Is the critical part willing to step
back and allow you to be present with this vulnerable part of you?
y We are not trying to get rid of this critical part but are asking it to step back
for the time being. Rather than casting off this part, I invite you to reflect
upon the ways that this part has functioned to protect you.
y Perhaps you might offer appreciation to this part for its job. If you weren’t
able to be vulnerable when you were a child, this part may have helped you
92 Copyright © 2021, Arielle Schwartz, The Complex PTSD Treatment Manual. All rights reserved.
maintain a sense of control. Now ask yourself whether it is still necessary to
protect yourself in this way. Might it be safe to soften your defenses?
If the client appears overidentified with the young part of the self, then explore
the following questions and statements.
y You seem to be feeling very little or young right now. Can you take a
moment to reorient to your adult self? Now that you feel more connected
to your center and your strength, is there anything that this young or
vulnerable part wants the adult part of you to know? Invite the adult part
to give the young part a tour of your life now. Show the young part where
you live and where you work. Share the ways that your present-day life is
different from the experiences you had in childhood.
Copyright © 2021, Arielle Schwartz, The Complex PTSD Treatment Manual. All rights reserved. 93
Healing Practice
y I notice that you are… [e.g., feeling self-critical, calling yourself worthless,
feeling like you need to be perfect, dismissing your emotions]. When you have
a strong inner critic, it can be helpful to explore an empty chair dialogue
with this part of yourself. This process also invites the part that is being…
[e.g., criticized, put down, controlled, dismissed] to have a voice. Would you
be willing to explore a dialogue between your inner critic and the part of
you being criticized?
y It is important to know that this dialogue is not real and does not require
that you speak these words to your… [e.g., mom, dad, abuser] in real life. We
are working with your internalization of their presence and voice as it lives
inside of you. This dialogue is to help you find resolution within yourself as
you express what you were never able to say in the relationship.
y Let’s set up the room so you have an empty chair in front of you. Take a
moment and check in with yourself. Do you feel more connected to the part
of you that is critical or to the part that feels criticized?
y When giving voice to your inner critic, give yourself permission to really
exaggerate this part of you! Notice your tone of voice and posture. Do
you notice any familiarity in your body language or in the message
communicated by this critical part of you? Does this voice remind you of
anyone from your past?
94 Copyright © 2021, Arielle Schwartz, The Complex PTSD Treatment Manual. All rights reserved.
y When giving voice to the part of you who feels criticized, notice how
you feel when you are being criticized and judged. What thoughts and
emotions arise? From this seat, look at the chair of your inner critic. Give
yourself permission to express how it feels to be criticized. You might say,
“I feel insignificant when you talk to me like that,” “You have unrealistic
expectations of me,” or “I can never get it right!” Notice your posture and
tone of voice as you sit in this chair. Are you aware of times from the past
when you felt this way?
y Often, self-criticism and self-aggression are manifestations of anger
turned inward. Ask yourself what would have happened had you expressed
anger toward… [e.g., mom, dad, abuser] when you were a child. Instead of
attacking yourself, can you give yourself permission to be angry at… [e.g.,
mom, dad, abuser] now?
y Now cultivate a dialogue by going back and forth between the chair of
your inner critic and the part of you that feels criticized. Take your time
until both parts have had an opportunity to be heard. Continue to explore
any memories or associations that arise related to each part. See if you can
understand what motivates the critical part. Is it an attempt to protect you
from feeling vulnerable? Is it a remnant of unfinished business of your…
[e.g., mom, dad, abuser] that had nothing to do with you? Begin to explore
the needs of the part of you who feels criticized. Does this part need
kindness, nurturance, or protection?
y Since this dialogue is in your imagination, you get to decide how it ends.
You are allowed to seek resolution and create a new outcome. What might
it be like for the critic to soften and meet the needs of the part who feels
criticized? Perhaps, you can imagine that your… [e.g., mom, dad, abuser]
offers an apology that never happened in real life. This is your internal
world, so how do you want to bring this dialogue to completion?
Copyright © 2021, Arielle Schwartz, The Complex PTSD Treatment Manual. All rights reserved. 95
Healing Practice
96 Copyright © 2021, Arielle Schwartz, The Complex PTSD Treatment Manual. All rights reserved.
Healing Practice
y I invite you to turn toward the part of you that feels… [e.g., young, anxious,
not enough, worthless, critical]. Often, these parts of ourselves carry unmet
needs, such as the need to be nurtured, supported, accepted, seen, heard,
understood, respected, protected, rescued, or removed from an unsafe
situation. Once we identify an unmet need, we can explore creating an
imagined repair for that part of yourself.
y Take a moment to recall a memory of a time in your life that is connected
to this part. Where were you? How old were you? Were you alone or with
others? What made this time so difficult? What emotions were you feeling
then?
y Now, from the perspective of your adult self, can you imagine what you
might have needed in that time?
If the client has difficulty connecting to the need, you can share what you
imagine the need might have been. For example, you can say:
y If I were there with you then, here is what I imagine you would have
needed. [Name what you imagine was the missing experience for the client.]
Does that feel accurate to you?
y Imagine your present-day self walking into that scene and nurturing your
younger self. Can you imagine gazing at this younger you in a loving and
compassionate manner?
y What emotions do you see on the face of your younger self? How does it
feel to know that these emotions are now understood and seen? Is there
anything that you would like to say to your younger self? Is there anything
else you might do to offer a sense of comfort, support, or acceptance for
Copyright © 2021, Arielle Schwartz, The Complex PTSD Treatment Manual. All rights reserved. 97
that younger you? Take your time with this process until you feel a sense
of completion. What do you notice now as you offer this nurturance to this
part of yourself?
y Can you imagine your adult self standing up for this young part? You will
not let anyone hurt this part of you! You are allowed to have boundaries.
Notice if there is a need to rescue or remove your younger self from an
unsafe situation. If so, imagine taking this part of yourself away from
danger. Now imagine bringing this young part of yourself to a safe place.
Take your time until you have created a sense of safety for this part. Now
what do you notice as you offer protection and safety to this part of
yourself?
y If you find it difficult to imagine your adult self being a resource for this
young part, you can explore bringing in an ally into this scene from your
past. In what ways might this person nurture or protect you? Maybe you
would like to imagine them helping this part of you stand up against
an abuser, or perhaps they help remove this part of you from an unsafe
situation. Are there any other allies you would like to bring into this scene?
Take your time with this process until you feel a sense of completion. Notice
how you feel in your body and any emotions you are feeling.
98 Copyright © 2021, Arielle Schwartz, The Complex PTSD Treatment Manual. All rights reserved.
7
Repatterning the Body
with Somatic P
sychology
When we observe the natural world, we see that animals have natural, inborn survival instincts
that help them respond to threatening experiences. Animals flee from predators, signal their
capacity to fight by baring their teeth and claws, or rely upon a freeze response to survive.
For example, a rabbit being chased by a fox might initially run and then hide behind a bush.
In order to survive, the rabbit might immobilize by reducing its movements, breathing
shallowly, and slowing down its heart rate. This immobilization response reduces the
likelihood that it will be perceived by the predator. Once the threat is over, animals typically
release the physiological impact of threatening experiences by shaking in order to return to
healthy mobilization (Levine, 1997).
Although children often share this natural propensity toward shaking when frightened, many
adults tend to suppress this natural tremor response (Berceli, 2015). In part, this is because many
of us have grown up within a culture of stillness. We have been taught to sit still in school as a
sign of obedience and respect. Many of us have thus learned to disconnect from the body.
Moreover, when trauma is ongoing and chronic, that time of safety where we can shake it off
doesn’t arise. As a result, the body can retain the impact of unresolved stress, sometimes for
decades. Many therapists and clients who rely on talk therapy approaches avoid integrating
movement into therapy as a continuation of this culture of stillness. Without interventions
that incorporate somatic awareness and movement, many therapeutic approaches are limited
in their ability help clients fully release the impact of traumatic events. In other words, we
cannot simply think our way out of traumatic activation.
In contrast, somatic psychology invites both therapists and clients to pay attention to sensations
and encourages the integration of mindful movement as part of treatment. Somatic psycholog y is
the study of the relationship between our body sensations, thoughts, emotions, and behaviors.
Somatic approaches are guided by the viewpoint that what we are thinking becomes a feeling
in the body—and similarly, the ways in which we move and breathe impact our thoughts and
emotions.
Somatic psychology invites us as therapists to notice our own bodies and to observe our client’s
nonverbal communications for signals of safety or threat. For example, our bodies respond
differently depending on whether we feel safe or threatened. Under conditions of safety, we
feel relaxed, but under conditions of threat, we react instinctively out of self-defense. A body-
centered approach emphasizes the importance of paying attention to these changes in facial
99
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expressions, postures, gestures, and tone of voice as a core part of therapy. It focuses on the use of
embodiment practices to build a reservoir of bodily and kinesthetic awareness that enhances our
communication, strengthens empathy, and guides the resolution of trauma (Damasio, 1999).
In chapter 5, we focused on increasing mindful body awareness in therapy, and this chapter builds
upon that foundation. Focusing on embodiment within trauma treatment allows us to strengthen
clients’ resources through grounding interventions and boundary development. In addition,
somatic psychology helps us move into phase two of trauma treatment, which supports clients
in working through traumatic material in a well-paced, regulated manner. With an emphasis
on dual awareness and working within the window of tolerance, a body-centered approach to
psychotherapy helps clients release the effects of traumatic events on the body.
In discussing these various models of somatic psychotherapy, this chapter offers a unified
approach to somatic psychology that integrates the theoretical and methodological elements
shared among different body psychotherapies (Geuter, 2015; Schwartz & Maiberger, 2018). The
first of these shared elements is the recognition that our difficult life experiences, especially
those from early development, contribute to patterns of tension in the body. A second common
factor is the belief that body awareness helps us access an internal source of wisdom that guides
the healing process. The third common factor is that we engage clients in body awareness and
healing movements at a pace they can tolerate. The healing practices in this chapter will help you
increase your awareness of nonverbal communications, build somatic resources, work with your
client’s postural awareness, and invite clients to explore healing movements.
Embodiment in Psychotherapy
Difficult life experiences, especially those that occur in the course of early development, are
carried in the body as patterns of tension referred to as somatic “armoring.” It is for this reason
that paying attention to your clients’ postures, use of gestures, or breathing patterns can provide
insight into their life experiences. Attending to these sensations not only increases awareness of
tension patterns but also helps clients discover new movements that help them resolve the wounds
from the past.
With body-centered approaches, we support clients to increase body awareness at a pace they can
tolerate by strengthening their capacity for dual awareness, in which they remain aware of their
external senses while building their capacity to internally sense and feel the body (Rothschild,
2010). This helps clients build their capacity to stay within their window of tolerance so they
can effectively respond to both high arousal and low arousal states. You can think of this as
helping clients work through trauma by finding tolerable amounts of traumatic activation that
take them to the upper and lower “edges” of their window of tolerance. By working at these edges,
Repatterning the Body with Somatic Psychology 101
we help clients create greater tolerance for sensations and emotions, which is a process known
as titration (Levine, 1997). Titration is a term used in chemistry that refers to the mixing of
chemicals in a slow, modulated manner. For example, if you combine large amounts of vinegar
and baking soda together, you will get an explosion. However, if you take a dropper of vinegar
and add a small amount to the baking soda, you will find that the mixture bubbles up and settles
down. We facilitate titration in psychotherapy when we guide clients to become aware of small
amounts of somatic distress and then invite them to breathe or move in a manner that helps
discharge their physical and emotional tension.
Tension tends to accumulate in the body when we suppress our natural proclivity toward
movement (Fogel, 2009). Most people curl their bodies inward when exposed to traumatic events
(Berceli, 2008). This defensive posture is a result of contractions in the psoas and hip flexor
muscles, which prepare the body for a fight-or-flight response. Ideally, once we are safe, the
muscular contraction releases, which can result in a shaking or trembling through the legs.
Discharging tension from the body can also be experienced as a trembling in the upper body or
a release of emotions. Through this process, which is referred to as sequencing, the tension that
we’ve held in the core of the body begins to move out of the body. Somatic release sometimes
happens naturally in response to somatic awareness, though we can also facilitate it in therapy
by inviting clients to engage in movements or postures that facilitate shaking or trembling.
For example, Tension & Trauma Releasing Exercises (TRE ® ) is a body-based technique that
encourages therapeutic tremoring to release muscle tension and reduce anxiety (Berceli, 2008).
Let’s take a closer look at what somatic psychology can look like in therapy through my work
with Sharon, a single mother whose only daughter was about to leave for college:
Sharon came into therapy feeling both anxious and depressed. She struggled with irritable
bowel syndrome and insomnia. She felt great anxiety about losing her relationship with her
daughter even though she knew that this separation was an important and necessary stage
of her daughter’s development. Nonetheless, she struggled with feelings of rejection and over-
dependency on her daughter. Sharon described feeling “stuck” in her life. She presented with a
collapsed posture, with her shoulders rolled forward and her arms hanging limply by her sides.
Working with Sharon, I discovered that she had a history of feeling rejected by her mother,
who was dismissive and withholding. She felt that no matter what she did, she couldn’t get
her needs met. Her father was often at work, which left her unprotected from her mother.
When Sharon was 12, she was sexually abused by a babysitter. Around that same time, her
parents got divorced. She moved in with her maternal grandparents along with her mother
and brother. Because of the chaos in her family, she never told anyone about the sexual
abuse incident.
Sharon cried often in sessions and felt helpless to change her circumstances. She had difficulty
asserting herself and was fearful of reaching out to others. I began to integrate somatic
awareness into our sessions by inviting Sharon to pay attention to her sensations. By placing
her hands over her chest and belly, she increased a sense of connection to these areas. We
also began to explore her posture. Initially, I suggested that she nonjudgmentally notice her
tendency to lean forward and cast her gaze downward. We explored her posture, and she
noticed a desire to curl forward even further. This urge to make herself small was connected to
her emotions of helplessness and the grief of her childhood.
102 The Complex PTSD Treatment Manual
Next, we explored how it felt to press her legs into the floor, which provided a sense of
support. This helped her find more support in her core and eventually allowed her to lengthen
her spine and lift her gaze. As she lifted her gaze, Sharon described feeling unprotected and
vulnerable. I invited her to follow her urge to curl downward. This time, she touched into
feelings of shame, loneliness, and fear that were connected to the rejection she felt as a little
girl and the sexual abuse she experienced as a pre-adolescent.
While these emotions were painful to feel, she also began to discover a new sense of strength
within herself. She explored moving back and forth between the inward curling motion and
a new sense of length and support in her body. I invited her to explore these two postures on
her own between sessions. When she returned, she described feeling more hopeful and less
isolated when she lengthened her posture because she was more likely to make eye contact
with others as she walked through the world.
As Sharon discovered a new sense of support from her core, she was able to explore reaching
for what she wanted through her arms. The first time she explored this movement, she began
to cry. She described feeling like a little girl, unable to reach out for her mother. Her arms
trembled as she cried. After this emotional and physical release, Sharon described feeling a
sense of relief. In the following months, she described a new ability to reach out to people
in her life who were kind and caring. With this came a new sense of freedom and hope for
her future.
As you can see in Sharon’s case, her trauma presented as a lack of support in her core and low
muscular tone leading to a collapsed posture. As a result, she continued to feel anxious, depressed,
and helpless. In contrast, some clients come in with high levels of tension and muscular holding.
For these individuals, somatic interventions can help them learn how to release chronic tension
patterns from the body. Let’s take a look at Marcus, a Black man, who represents the other end of
this continuum:
Marcus came into therapy because his wife was frustrated by his anger outbursts, and his
inability to talk about his feelings was interfering with their relationship. Marcus had been in
the military and now worked as a first responder. His muscular body led him to carry tension
in his chest, shoulders, neck, and jaw. While his strength helped him handle the challenges
of life, he also carried underlying fears of being seen as a failure. Marcus felt mistrustful of
others and was often concerned that people would take advantage of him. As Marcus and I
worked together, I discovered that he was raised by a father who was punitive and emotionally
cut off. In his family, “love” was based upon performance. He learned to bury his feelings to
avoid disappointing his father. His years in the military further reinforced his stoic approach
to the world. Furthermore, as an African American man, he experienced the chronic stress of
discrimination and racism for much of his life.
Once Marcus and I got to know each other, I began to guide him to pay attention to his
sensations. He became increasingly aware of the tension in his upper body. Instead of trying
to make this tension go away, I suggested that he explore amplifying the activation in his
muscles to deepen his awareness of the feelings in his body. As he increased the tension in
his chest and arms, he shared that he was aware that this gave him a sense of control. He
Repatterning the Body with Somatic Psychology 103
recognized that this helped him keep people from getting too close. We spoke about how
being “in control” may have been important for him as a child, but now this pattern backfired
when he wanted to be closer to his wife.
Marcus shared that there was a part of him that wanted to let go of this tension and a part
of him that was afraid of what might happen. We explored these two parts somatically. We
began by amplifying the part that was “holding on” as he made fists while tensing his arms,
chest, jaw, and face. Then he focused on the part that wanted to “let go” by releasing the
tension in his hands, arms, chest, jaw, and face. When letting go of tension, Marcus initially
felt uncomfortable. He described that he suddenly felt agitated and had an urge to walk
out of the session. In response, I noticed tension build in my own body and a feeling of fear
arose within me. I took a deep breath and focused on grounding through my feet and legs.
Then I invited him to check in with his body, and he described feeling an “irritable and tight”
feeling in his chest, similar to how he felt when he became angry. I reminded him that he
was in charge of the pace of our work, and we discussed the window of tolerance as a tool
for helping us recognize when we were moving too quickly. Together, we acknowledged that
his tension had protected him for many years. I suggested that he could tell me when he was
interested in turning his attention toward the part of him that wanted to “let go,” but I also
suggested that he could return to the “holding on” part as often as needed.
Over the next several sessions, Marcus and I worked with these two competing needs. This
process helped him acknowledge how his physical armoring helped him navigate the world
as a Black man. He recognized the anger he felt toward his father and began to acknowledge
his own hurt and fear that was hiding underneath his defenses. Most importantly, he shared
that he was less angry at home and more willing to open up to his wife.
As evident in both Sharon’s and Marcus’s stories, building body awareness can be uncomfortable
at first. Clients may have difficulty staying present with their sensations. They may feel restless,
anxious, and irritable, or they might feel lethargic, tired, and heavy. In some cases, clients may
report feeling numb or disconnected from their sensations. In order to help clients reclaim their
body at a safe pace, you can use the healing practices in this chapter to assist them in increasing
somatic awareness, building greater tolerance for sensations, and developing a capacity to safely
work through traumatic material.
Of note, while it is helpful to invite clients to explore their somatic experience with curiosity
and an open mind, it is equally important that we, as therapists, approach this process with our
own openness to the unknown (Gendlin, 1982; Kurtz, 1990). In this way, we apply somatic
psychology in a client-centered manner. When offering any intervention, we must let go of our
expectations about the outcome. In doing so, we communicate to our clients that we trust their
innate wisdom and their instinctual response as it arises from the psyche and soma (body). When
inviting a client to explore any movement intervention, it is wise to offer this as a possibility
rather than a prescription. In other words, once you invite a client to experiment with a movement
or postural change, you must sit back and await their response. If you rush or anticipate certain
results, you are likely to inhibit their authentic presence.
104 The Complex PTSD Treatment Manual
This is also the case when working with intergenerational or legacy trauma, in which unresolved
trauma of one generation becomes a legacy that is passed down to the next generation. For
example, Black people may carry the legacy trauma of their ancestors’ experience of slavery and
systemic racism. Jewish individuals may carry the trauma of the Holocaust and anti-Semitism.
Keep in mind that all genocide traumas, including those that devastated the Native Americans
in the United States, Aborigines in Australia, Tutsi in Rwanda, and Darfuris in Sudan, have been
found to impact the mental health of family members for at least three generations (Yehuda,
2002). These transgenerational traumatic events are experienced as a generalized anxiety, a
predisposition to PTSD after trauma exposure, and patterns of tension, pain, or illness in the
body (Wolynn, 2016).
may have other clients who evoke a feeling of restlessness within you. As discussed in chapter 4,
it is not uncommon for our body sensations to parallel our clients’ embodied experiences, a
concept referred to as somatic resonance (Keleman, 1987).
Furthermore, our clients’ embodiment is also a reflection of their experience in relationship to us.
Recall that all of our culturally and socially informed experiences are held in our bodies (Bennett
& Castiglioni, 2004; Kimmel, 2013; Nickerson, 2017). Our clients’ posture, use of eye contact,
use of gestures, and use of space cannot be extracted from the power and privilege dynamics
that exist in their external lives and within the therapy room. We must keep in mind that their
inability to speak freely or take up space may be a reflection of their lack of safety inside of the
therapy room. It is wise to keep these dynamics in mind as you progress into the next healing
practice, which invites you to mindfully study embodied relational experiences that emerge during
therapy as related to subtle changes in posture, breathing, use of eye contact, movements, use of
space, and tone of voice.
Healing Practice
y Notice your posture and whether you are leaning forward or backward
in your seat. How comfortable do you feel in your body? Do you feel
supported by your spine? Is your core engaged? Do you notice that you feel
collapsed or unsupported? Conversely, do you feel constricted or tight?
y Observe the posture of your client. Are they learning forward or backward
in their seat? Do they appear slumped or collapsed? Does their posture
appear rigid? Or does their posture appear relaxed and natural? Do you
notice changes in their posture that suggest a change in emotion or
physiological arousal?
y Notice how much space you are taking up in the room. Do you notice a
need to make yourself smaller? Do you feel unusually unrestricted in your
use of gestures or body language?
y Observe your client’s use of space. Do they seem to take up only a small
area of the room? Do they take up a lot of space? What do you notice
in their expressiveness through their arms or hands as they speak? Do
you notice any changes in their use of space that suggest a change in
emotion or physiological arousal?
y Notice how much you are moving during the session. Do you notice any
urges to fidget? Do you find yourself crossing and uncrossing your legs? Do
you reach for your water or tea more frequently than usual? Are you moving
less than usual?
y Observe your client’s use of movement. Do they move around the space or
sit still? Do they fidget with their hands, or are they restless in their legs
and feet? Do they appear lethargic or sluggish? Do you notice changes in
106 Copyright © 2021, Arielle Schwartz, The Complex PTSD Treatment Manual. All rights reserved.
your client’s movements that suggest a change in emotion or physiological
arousal?
y Notice the quality of your tone of voice and whether you feel any restriction
in your throat as you speak. Notice if you feel an urge to speak quickly. Is
your voice louder or softer than usual?
y Observe your client’s use of speech. Do you notice any restriction or
unusual intensity in their voice? Are they speaking noticeably fast or slow?
Does their voice have normal prosody in which their tone rises and falls as
they speak, or is their voice relatively flat? Do you notice changes in their
tone of voice that suggest a change in emotion or physiological arousal?
y Notice any changes in how you are breathing. Is your breath noticeably
shallow or restricted? Or are you breathing freely and easily?
y Observe your client’s breathing patterns. Are there any changes in the
depth or timing of their breaths that suggest a change in emotion or
physiological arousal?
y Notice your use of eye contact. Do you feel an urge to look away from the
client? Do you feel that it’s necessary to always look directly at your client?
y Observe your client’s use of eye contact. Do they avoid making any eye
contact? Do their eyes appear fixated on you or on another object in the
room? Do you notice changes in eye contact that suggest a change in
emotion or physiological arousal?
Copyright © 2021, Arielle Schwartz, The Complex PTSD Treatment Manual. All rights reserved. 107
108 The Complex PTSD Treatment Manual
One way that somatic therapists attend to safety within the therapeutic relationship is through
interventions that attend to the proximity between the therapist and client. Proximity refers
to our use of space and asks us to consciously reflect on how close or far away we are seated
from our clients. In addition, proximity awareness invites us to pay attention to whether we are
directly facing our clients or sitting at an angle. Changes in proximity can significantly impact our
clients’ sense of safety or threat within therapy. Exploring varying seating options with your client
empowers them to decide how much space they need to feel safe (Schwartz & Maiberger, 2018).
This process is especially important because social and cultural dynamics can impact our use of
space. If a client has had a history of feeling disempowered, marginalized, or disenfranchised,
we can empower them by giving them choice about our seating arrangements.
In addition, there is a common expectation that therapy must be done sitting down. However,
within somatic psychology, working with proximity also invites clients to know that they can
engage in therapy while standing. The next healing practice guides you to explore proximity
awareness with your client. It is noteworthy to mention that it is helpful when both the therapist’s
and client’s chairs are able to move closer or farther away from each other. In addition, you can
experiment with letting the client know that any seat in the room is available, including your
chair. This practice can reduce power differentials and create a more collaborative dynamic.
Healing Practice
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110 The Complex PTSD Treatment Manual
In alignment with a phase-based approach to care, somatic psychology offers tools that can increase
clients’ felt sense of safety. Somatic psychology proposes that our movement patterns influence
our sense of who we are in the world. When we feel safe, we can relax, move freely to explore
our world, reach out for what we want, and push away what we do not want. However, when
we do not feel safe, we are not able to access a sense of safety or healthy mobility through the
body. This can disrupt our ability to sleep deeply, protect ourselves, feel or express our emotions,
and communicate our needs to others. Within somatic psychology, we can reclaim a nourishing
relationship to ourselves and others through what is known as the satisfaction cycle (Aposhyan,
2007), which involves five phases: yielding, pushing, reaching, grasping, and pulling actions.
Yielding involves surrendering our weight into gravity. Here, you can imagine the way a child
who feels safe and secure can rest in the arms of a loving parent. Yielding is also characterized by
a relaxed alertness that allows you to fully and consciously receive support. When clients have
experienced childhood abuse and are stuck in a fight pattern, they might carry excessive tension
in their muscles, making it hard to relax. Or if they are stuck in a flight pattern, they might be
jumpy, agitated, or disconnected from their sensations and emotions. In contrast, if they felt
helpless as a child, they might get stuck in a state of collapse. Yielding involves reclaiming a
relaxed engagement of the muscles, which can help individuals sense their body in relationship
to gravity. You can amplify this feeling by keeping a weighted blanket in your office and inviting
clients to place it on their lap. When exploring yielding, it is common for emotions to arise given
that this process invites clients to let go of protective somatic patterns that they once needed to
help them feel safe.
Once we can successfully yield into gravity, then we can push into our connection with the earth,
which allows us to feel where we begin and end in space ourselves. Mindfully pushing through the
arms and legs helps us support ourselves and assert our independence, which is especially salient
for individuals with a history of trauma who often have difficulties with boundaries. In particular,
they might have a hard time asserting boundaries, or they might maintain rigid boundaries that
keep everyone at a distance. Developing a healthy relationship with pushing can help clients
discover flexible boundaries in which they can engage them as needed for self-protection and
soften them as needed for greater intimacy with others. We can experiment with pushing by
pressing into the legs and feet. For example, doing a wall-sit can help clients build tolerance for
strong emotions or body sensations. This process helps clients who are prone to dissociation feel
grounded and oriented to the here and now. We can also experiment with pushing and releasing
through the arms to help clients practice self-assertion or soften their defenses.
A well-developed capacity to yield and push can allow us to reach out to others without losing the
self. Here, you can imagine how a child who feels loved and supported might reach out toward
caring parents. Reaching allows us to express curiosity for the world around us, move toward
what we want, care for others, or ask for what we need from them. However, when a child has
been repeatedly rejected when reaching out to caregivers, they might carry a sense of shame or
helplessness into adulthood that can be seen in an unwillingness to reach outward. This can lead
to lethargy or low motivation. Importantly, we need to remain connected to our center so our
reach doesn’t leave us feeling overextended beyond our boundaries or disconnected from the self.
Repatterning the Body with Somatic Psychology 111
Grasping and pulling are two movement patterns that work together to close the gap between the
self and the world. When we grasp and pull, we are able to bring what we desire from the world
in toward the self. Once again, these actions need to be stabilized through the previous stages of
the satisfaction cycle; otherwise, our grasping can become frantic, frustrating, and exhausting. For
example, it is quite common to grasp for more than we can successfully digest. It’s like arriving at
a buffet and stuffing ourselves with too much food. We lose our ability to fully receive, appreciate
what we have, or feel nourished by the experience. The antidote to this lack of satisfaction involves
consciously returning to the practice of yielding, which allows us to slow down and receive what
we have taken in.
The next healing practices provide somatic resources to help clients safely connect to the body.
These interventions invite an experiential exploration of each action within the satisfaction cycle.
I suggest exploring only one of these movement interventions during a single session. Ideally,
integration of any movement pattern in session is relevant to the experience of the client. While
each movement is developed to assist the client in discovering a new embodied resource, it is
also important to approach these interventions with an openness to the unknown that allows the
client’s authentic experience to guide the session. For example, if you invite the client to relax
into support, they might share an awareness that they feel frightened or unable to relax. If that is
the case, you have a choice to explore their fear and to examine their patterns of muscle tension,
depending upon the client’s window of tolerance for discomfort. Or you might reorient them
using cues that they are safe in the therapy room to help them reclaim choice and containment (as
discussed in chapter 2).
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Within somatic psychology, we attend to the ways the body carries the burdens of our historical
experiences. This is especially evident in our posture, which is often connected to our emotions
and memories. For example, individuals whose gaze is downcast, shoulders are rolled forward, and
core is collapsed might be more likely to feel depressed or helpless. They might be more likely
to recall previous times that they felt this way. In contrast, individuals whose arms are crossed
in front of their chest while maintaining an unyielding stance are more likely to be cut off from
their feelings.
You can think of posture as a form of implicit memory. For example, the muscular engagement
involved in bracing against a threat is directly connected to the sensory information encoded at
the time of a traumatic event. One way to explore this body-mind connection is through slow,
mindful changes in our posture while studying related changes in our thoughts or emotions. This
is the purpose of the next healing practice, which invites clients to experiment with postural
changes. Importantly, this practice is not about simply replacing an old posture with a new one.
Rather, we invite the client to explore different postures by repeating and exaggerating this shape
in their body. This can allow them to notice how they feel so they can choose how they want to
carry themselves through the world.
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118 The Complex PTSD Treatment Manual
Paying attention to sensations not only increases awareness of tension patterns but also helps
clients discover new movements that allow them to resolve the wounds of their past. Sometimes
clients will spontaneously explore reparative movements on their own. For example, clients might
bring their hands to their chest or engage in a gesture of reaching out for connection. In these
moments, we can invite clients to slow down and repeat these movements. When we move slowly,
we are more likely to feel ourselves fully. We repeat these movements to help clients integrate the
new movement pattern, but we want to ensure that they are not simply in autopilot, disconnected
from their bodies.
Ultimately, the goal is to help clients resolve any movement sequences that they did not get to
complete in the past, which can lead to a felt sense of resolution of traumatic experiences. For
example, a client might visualize pushing an abuser away while simultaneously engaging a pushing
action through the arms. Or, if a client’s trauma involved being trapped and unable to escape a
dangerous situation, we can help them reclaim a stepping movement while imagining running
away. This can help them to find a new sense of healthy mobilization into the body.
Alternatively, if a client was unable to use their voice in the past, we can invite them to explore
finding words or to make a sound that releases any blocked or stuck feeling in the throat. If a
client expresses feeling shy about making a sound, you can suggest creating a sound together, as
this can reduce self-consciousness on the part of the client. For example, Peter Levine suggests
making a long, slow “voo” sound on an extended exhale (Levine, 2010). This particular sound
engages the vagus nerve and PNS, which can allow clients to come out of an overstimulated SNS
state or a shutdown dorsal vagal state.
The next healing practices guide the client to reflect on the relationship between their
sensations and their trauma history. It then guides them to explore movements that help resolve
any stuck or unfinished movement sequences. You can use these interventions to invite somatic
awareness of areas of tension, numbness, or pain as you and your client discuss traumatic
events from their history. Not all statements will be relevant to all situations, so adapt these as
appropriate to your client.
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8
Reprocessing the Past with Cognitive
Behavioral and EMDR Therapies
Throughout history, storytelling has been used as a healing practice. When given a safe space
where we know we will be unconditionally accepted, it can be profoundly empowering to share
the events of our lives. As we tell and retell our narrative, we are able to work through difficult
parts of our past and express emotions that we weren’t able to feel at the time of the event. Taking
this time to work through a disturbing memory reduces the power that traumatic events have over
our lives. We recognize that these events are over and, as a result, have less power over us.
Cognitive behavioral therapies (CBT) have been among the most researched of the therapeutic
approaches applied for the treatment of PTSD and complex trauma. Some of the more commonly
recognized applications of CBT for trauma include prolonged exposure (Foa, Hembree, &
Rothbaum, 2007), cognitive processing therapy (Resick, Monson, & Chard, 2016), and narrative
exposure therapy (Schauer, Neuner, & Elbert, 2011). These therapies work by helping clients
modify unhelpful thoughts related to trauma and, in some cases, process traumatic memories so
that they no longer induce a fear response.
Another treatment method commonly used to address trauma is EMDR therapy, which is a
comprehensive approach that combines elements of cognitive behavioral, psychodynamic, and
somatic therapies. EMDR helps clients process the images, thoughts, feelings, and body sensations
related to traumatic events by adding dual-awareness stimulation (Shapiro, 2018). As previously
discussed, dual awareness asks clients to remain aware of the positive aspects of their present-
moment experience or bring to mind memories of positive events while simultaneously recalling
memories of historical traumatic events. Within EMDR, dual awareness is amplified using short,
slow sets of bilateral stimulation, including eye movements, hand-held tactile pulsers, self-tapping,
or sounds.
Rather than emphasizing a single CBT method for memory reprocessing, this chapter offers a
common factors approach that is based on our understanding of neural networks and the formation
of traumatic memories. As discussed in chapter 2, a neural network is a group of interconnected
neurons in the brain that fire together, and traumatic memories are thought to be maintained by
impaired neural networks that are isolated from memories of positive events (Bergmann, 2012).
One common factor underlying CBT and EMDR therapies is that they reactivate the neural
networks associated with traumatic memories, which gives clients an opportunity to reprocess
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disturbing memories as they focus on cognitive reappraisal during exposure. The goal is to help
clients desensitize or reduce the amount of emotional or somatic distress they experience when
reflecting on the event.
Treatment approaches that focus on the reprocessing of memories ask clients to talk about or
write about traumatic events, which gives clients a chance to review associated images, sensory
details, thoughts, and feelings. In some cases, clients may only imagine the event if they do
not want to describe the details out loud. Importantly, reprocessing traumatic events involves
introducing new information that challenges negative beliefs and inaccurate conclusions that the
client formed as a result of traumatic experiences. For many individuals, the act of reprocessing
a memory through exposure and desensitization can feel empowering as they realize that the past
no longer has power over them.
In some cases, prolonged exposure and desensitization interventions can lead clients with
C-PTSD to feel flooded or destabilized. Therefore, it is often necessary to focus on extending
phase one of treatment so clients can develop the positive resources necessary to cultivate a
felt sense of safety and stabilization. Once clients are ready for phase two of trauma treatment,
we may still need to slow down the pace of memory reprocessing with modified approaches
to exposure and desensitization. The healing practices within this chapter help clients develop
positive resources, engage in cognitive reappraisal, and safely reprocess traumatic memories
to find emotional resolution.
As discussed in chapter 2, all of our memories are encoded in neural networks that contain the
sensory experiences that were present at the time of the event, including associated sights, sounds,
smells, tastes, emotions, and bodily sensations. These neural networks extend across various areas
of the brain that are associated with each sensory aspect of our experience. The process of memory
retrieval can be thought of as the reconstitution of a neural network in which we pull together
these separate pieces of information. In other words, we reactivate neurons throughout the brain,
allowing us to “recollect” our experience.
In normal, everyday memories, there are gaps in the representation of our experience. These gaps
can be considerably wider with developmental trauma and C-PTSD. In some cases, individuals
may only recall the memory in fragments or as vague somatic sensations. In these cases, clients fill
in the gaps with inferences and knowledge based upon other historical experiences or educated
guesses about what most likely occurred. The way we remember an event is also influenced by our
current emotional state, our external surroundings, and the people with whom we are interacting.
Given the malleability and constructive nature of memory, therapists must be mindful not to
influence the construction of false memories by suggesting or inferring events that we or the client
do not know to be true.
Each time we retrieve a memory, we reactivate a neural network, and once a neural network has
developed, there is a greater probability that we will activate that same neural network in the
future. For example, a smell or sound might evoke disturbing reexperiencing symptoms in someone
with C-PTSD, causing them to have a flashback and reactivating the neural network associated
Reprocessing the Past with Cognitive Behavioral and EMDR Therapies 125
with distressing emotions, such as fear or rage. When this occurs, the distress associated with
the traumatic memory is reinforced, which strengthens the neural network. Therefore, without
sufficient support, clients with C-PTSD may have a difficult time experiencing themselves as
cognitively constructive or emotionally adaptive. They may have difficulty integrating new,
positive information into the current fear-based state (Shapiro, 2018).
A predictive processing model of memory suggests that the primary function of memories is to help
us predict or anticipate the next experience, with these predictions being essential for our survival
(Chamberlin, 2019). However, when we are confronted with new information that contradicts
our expectations, there is a mismatch between our predictions and current information. For
individuals with C-PTSD, fostering the development of positive beliefs, emotions, and somatic
experiences can facilitate a paradoxical state that contrasts the expectations of their fear-based
memories. Our goal is to evoke this state of cognitive dissonance because it requires clients
to update their expectations about the future. In other words, cognitive dissonance activates
neuroplasticity, allowing clients to create changes in their neural networks (Tryon, 2014). As
therapists, we can take advantage of these key transformational moments by encouraging clients
to tolerate the “unknown” as an opportunity for change.
When we invite clients to purposefully reflect on a traumatic memory within a safe and
supportive environment, we also have an opportunity to introduce new information that
reduces the feeling of threat associated with traumatic memories. That is, we capitalize on
the reconstructive nature of neural networks by adding in corrective information that facilitates
an experience of resolution. As described, memory is a malleable and constructive in that it is
influenced by both internal and external factors. When we invite clients to mindfully reflect
on traumatic memories, we can imagine that they are opening up a document on a computer,
which allows them to modify or revise the information prior to saving the updated version
(Ecker et al., 2012).
Individuals with complex trauma may have greater difficulty with exposure and memory-focused
treatment. If we move too quickly, they might feel unsafe or re-traumatized, which can lead
them to prematurely leave treatment or lose faith in the benefits of therapy. In alignment with a
phase-based approach to care, the integrative treatment model in this book emphasizes clients’
stability and safety prior to reprocessing traumatic memories, which is why phase one is often the
longest and most important phase of C-PTSD treatment. Prior to beginning the reprocessing of
traumatic memories, we want to ensure that clients are ready for the demands of revisiting
difficult thoughts, emotions, or sensations. This is especially true for clients who are at risk of
self-harming behaviors or substance use.
The purpose of resource development is to strengthen clients’ access to positive states, increase
emotion regulation, and help them feel in control about when or how they think about traumatic
events. In fact, much of the CBT and EMDR therapy literature supports the integration of coping
skills and positive resources into the treatment of C-PTSD (Jackson, Nissenson, & Cloitre, 2009;
Shapiro, 2018). Clients build positive resources when they feel safe, connect to their therapist,
126 The Complex PTSD Treatment Manual
ground themselves in mindful body awareness, orient to their adult self, imagine nurturing or
protective allies, and focus on constructive, affirming beliefs about themselves in the world.
For example, you can invite clients to imagine a time when they felt safe and to notice the
related images, thoughts, emotions, and body sensations. If a client cannot recall a time when
they felt safe, they can visualize an imagined time or place. You can also help them enhance
this positive imagery through guided relaxation and diaphragmatic breathing exercises. As clients
experience this positive state, they are creating a new neural network or enhancing an existing one
by associating it with this positive state.
Clients with C-PTSD may initially struggle to develop positive resources because the experience
of safety and connection can feel threatening. To them, these nourishing experiences can bring
up vulnerable emotions of sadness or elicit memories of times when they were rejected or alone.
Clients with complex trauma often rely heavily upon defensive coping mechanisms that prevent
them from letting in the nourishment of other people or the world. For some, it feels too risky to
let in the “good” because it requires that they let down their guard, and they do not believe that
they can handle any more pain. In these instances, we need to progress slowly and help clients
build tolerance for positive emotions and somatic sensations. Ultimately, we can help them sustain
their attention on positive emotions for longer periods of time as they build tolerance for these
nourishing feelings.
To help clients achieve safety and stabilization, you can return to the healing practices from the
previous chapters that built resources through relational, mindfulness, parts work, and somatic
therapies. In addition, you can use the next two healing practices to help clients feel connected
to a positive state. The first healing practice invites clients to visualize a real or imagined place
where they feel safe, relaxed, peaceful, and calm. In this healing practice, you can introduce
clients to a self-tapping practice called the butterfly hug, which draws on EMDR’s use of bilateral
stimulation to calm the nervous system. If the client’s feeling state shifts in a negative direction
while engaging in self-tapping, ask them to stop and explore whether any intrusive thoughts or
imagery interfered with the peaceful place visualization.
The second healing practice is a tree of life drawing that explores the use of a tree to map out
the challenging and positive experiences in a client’s life. The purpose of this exercise, which is
inspired by narrative exposure therapy, is to help clients contain their distress in a “compost heap”
while reorienting their attention to their sources of strength, self-care activities, values, and goals.
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Healing Practice
y Compost heap: The compost heap, which is the box to the side of your tree,
breaks down the “yuck” so you can use it for your growth. Within this box,
you can write down traumatic events, experiences of abuse, times when
you were neglected or rejected, or any challenging relationships. Be sure to
give your compost box a lid. Know that you can contain these events in this
space until you have the resources to work through them.
y Roots: The roots of your tree represent your sources of strength. Within
the roots, take some time to write down any positive influences from your
life or sources of pride, such as your hometown or country. Or you might
include cultural resources, such as meaningful rites of passage, spiritual
teachers, or influential mentors. Add in any other positive family legacies,
such as stories of ancestors who were courageous or who overcame
challenges.
y Ground: The ground represents your current sources of nourishment, such
as any self-care activities that you do on a regular basis to help you stay
healthy. Examples are healthy nutrition, exercise routines, mindfulness
practices, or creative endeavors. Write down your sources of nourishment
on the ground beneath your tree.
y Trunk: The trunk represents anything that keeps you upright and standing
tall. Inside of your trunk is a good place to write down your values and
skills. Examples of values include open-mindedness, humility, integrity,
honesty, bravery, leadership, lifelong learning, fairness, kindness, forgiving
others, social responsibility, and caring for others.
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y Branches: Your branches represent what you are reaching for. On the
branches of your tree, write down your hopes, dreams, and wishes. For
example, you might want to create more space in your life for spiritual
reflection through journaling or meditation. Or you might want more space
in your life for creative projects, such as making music, writing poetry, or
painting. Perhaps you would like to focus on developing healthy eating
habits or implementing a new exercise routine. What activities would help
you find greater enjoyment and fulfillment in your life?
y Leaves: Your leaves represent that which helps you gather light to yourself.
On your leaves, write down who is a supportive presence in your life, such
as such as friends, family, or pets.
y Flowers and seeds: The flowers and seeds represent your goals. Draw
flowers and seeds at the ends of your branches. Here, you can write down
anything that you would like to pass on to others or to the next generation.
These are your gifts to the world.
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Cognitive Reappraisal
Engaging clients in cognitive reappraisal invites them to explore the beliefs that they have
constructed about themselves or the world and helps them identify when they have adopted
thinking errors. Negative beliefs from trauma are often related to a sense of being defective
or damaged, an inaccurate sense of over-responsibility for the traumatic events, an impaired
sense of safety, or a pervasive feeling of helplessness. These “thinking errors” are often due to
overgeneralizations, all-or-nothing thinking, catastrophizing, and emotional reasoning.
Once we have identified clients’ negative beliefs, we can invite the client to construct new,
accurate beliefs. Often this process involves Socratic inquiry, in which we ask the client a question
that they have the ability to answer, even if they do not yet realize it. For example, when working
with a client who experienced abuse as a child, we might say, “You were just a child. Do you
really believe that you could have been responsible for your father’s behavior?” This can empower
the client to see new possibilities, question their assumptions, develop new beliefs, and form a
new outlook for the future (Heiniger et al., 2018). This facilitates cognitive dissonance, creates a
new emotional response, and allows clients to form new meanings about the events of their lives
(Tryon, 2014).
For example, the client may realize that they were never to blame for their abuse and that they
were always deserving of kindness and respect. Often, this evokes a grief process that involves
letting go of limiting beliefs or behaviors with which they have overidentified. Ultimately,
grieving can lead to a sense of resolution in which there is a natural reduction in emotional
disturbance related to the traumatic event (Cutuli, 2014). In other words, desensitization occurs
as a natural result of memory reprocessing.
The next section offers two healing practices. The first focuses on helping clients recognize the
importance of cultivating a healthy mind through a garden metaphor. The second practice helps
clients identify negative beliefs, explore counterevidence to these beliefs using Socratic inquiry,
and form new beliefs they would like to adopt.
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y Pick one negative belief that you identified on the previous list, and
examine this belief by asking yourself a few questions. [Ask one question at a
time until the client exhibits a change in their negative belief. Not all questions
will be relevant to all client situations.]
ο Do you know for sure that what you feel or believe is true?
ο What evidence do you have for this negative thought?
ο Can you find any evidence that suggests this belief is not true?
132 Copyright © 2021, Arielle Schwartz, The Complex PTSD Treatment Manual. All rights reserved.
ο Are you holding yourself to an unrealistically high standard?
ο You were just a child. Do you really believe that a child could be
blamed for…?
ο Is the belief that you carry about yourself helpful for you?
ο Will this thought allow you to achieve your goals?
ο If a close friend of yours knew that you were having this thought,
what would they say to you?
ο If someone you love was having this thought, what would you
tell them?
ο Imagine receiving advice from your future self. What would the future
you like to tell you? How does this information change your thoughts
or beliefs about yourself?
y Now let’s take a look at the following list of positive beliefs. What would you
like to believe about yourself now?
ο I am good enough.
ο I am a good person.
ο I can trust myself now.
ο I am lovable.
ο I am worthy of love.
ο I am strong.
ο I am healthy and whole.
ο I did the best that I could.
ο I am doing the best that I can now.
ο I can learn from difficult experiences.
ο It was never my fault.
ο It is over and I am safe now.
ο I can choose whom to trust now.
ο I can protect myself and take care of myself now.
ο I have choices now.
ο I can stand up for myself now.
ο I am empowered.
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134 The Complex PTSD Treatment Manual
Clients with a history of complex trauma often develop a wide range of avoidance strategies that
temporarily reduce anxiety or distress, but this avoidance does not resolve traumatic activation in
the long term. It is for this reason that exposure-based interventions ask clients to purposefully
reflect on their traumatic memories while temporarily suspending their avoidance strategies. In
time, this allows the client to build confidence in their ability to turn toward the fearful event
without becoming flooded by distressing sensations and emotions.
However, exposure can be challenging with clients who have C-PTSD because revisiting traumatic
memories can be destabilizing. Given that memories are connected to one another through neural
networks, this increases the likelihood that clients will experience flooding or dissociative symptoms
during exposure. For example, a client with C-PTSD who was sexually abused in childhood for
many years may subsequently enter into an abusive marriage. In this case, the client’s fear-based
expectancies have been powerfully reinforced across time, and recalling a single traumatic event
might pull forth a sequela of related disturbing memories. Furthermore, clients often lead stressful
lives that reflect the instability they feel as a result of their traumatic histories. In turn, they often
come into our office with repeated crises. In these moments, it is necessary to attend to the current
stressor or emotionally disturbing experience with a focus on establishing safety and stabilization.
In cases where the client is prone to destabilization, our work can focus on helping them process
current stressors through the experience of co-regulation, in which clients are able to develop a
feeling of connection and safety with us as the therapist until they experience a resolution of the
distress. Clients with C-PTSD can often tolerate talking about recent traumatic events with us,
even if they are not yet ready to work through disturbing memories from the past. When they
feel validated and understood, this builds a positive resource state that offers a contrast to the
ongoing emotional turmoil that has defined much of their life. Therefore, we help clients process
the current event until they achieve a feeling of resolution, which can help them recognize that the
current reality is distinct from the historical trauma. Through repetition, clients can internalize
this positive state of connection and safety as a resource that is increasingly accessible within and
outside of sessions (Courtois, Ford, & Cloitre, 2009). Working in this manner helps clients work
through attachment trauma and increase emotion-regulation skills (Karatzias et al., 2018).
At the same time, having too much emphasis on safety and stabilization can unnecessarily delay
effective treatment (de Jongh et al., 2016). Therapists who spend too much time focusing on
this phase of treatment may be unconsciously colluding with clients’ avoidance defenses and, as
a result, stop providing opportunities for clients to focus their attention on traumatic material
from the past. An overemphasis on resource development might also inadvertently send a message
to clients that we view them as “fragile” and incapable of handling the work. In contrast, when
we view therapy as a collaborative process, we can have open conversations with clients about the
value of resource development, the pacing of therapy, and their readiness for trauma reprocessing.
Even when a client is facing current stressors, we can help them turn toward the pain of their
traumatic past in a slow, modulated manner. We create safety during reprocessing of traumatic
memories when we invite clients to focus on only one event or a small part of the memory
while simultaneously asking them to use a containment strategy (Gonzalez & Mosquera, 2012).
This allows clients to focus on small, manageable amounts of discomfort while placing other
Reprocessing the Past with Cognitive Behavioral and EMDR Therapies 135
trauma-related memories into their container (see the choice and containment healing practice
from chapter 2).
Given that similar traumatic events tend to share the same neural networks and cognitive
distortions, working through one significant traumatic event can help resolve other traumatic
events as well. For example, the client who was sexually abused over many years can choose to
work through one or two specific incidents as representational of the repeated trauma. It is often
relieving for clients to learn that it is not necessary to reprocess every traumatic event from their
lives. Once they have achieved a sense of resolution with a specific memory, you and the client
can review the relevance of the new information or insights as related to other traumatic events.
In addition, you can work together to determine traumatic events that were unaffected and need
attention through further reprocessing.
We can also help clients slow down the pace of trauma reprocessing through pendulation, a
process that invites them to alternate between paying attention to the distressing trauma-related
memory and paying attention to cues in the present moment that help them feel safe (Knipe,
2015; Schwartz & Maiberger, 2018). You can liken this process to a pendulum swinging back
and forth—in this case, between two emotional states. During this process, we carefully invite
clients to focus on the traumatic memory while observing for cues of emotional or physiological
dysregulation. We also invite clients to tell us when they feel at risk of dissociation. At that
point, we invite them to return their attention to a positive resource. In this manner, we
mindfully work at the “edges” of the window of tolerance.
Within EMDR therapy, we enhance memory reprocessing through the addition of bilateral
stimulation while the client reflects on the traumatic event. Bilateral stimulation appears to work
through several related mechanisms in that it: (1) enhances dual awareness, which strengthens
clients’ awareness of the here and now; (2) facilitates an orienting response in which clients draw
their attention to the current environment and realize there is no threat present, which decreases
arousal; and (3) mimics rapid eye movement (REM) sleep by alternating between the left and
right hemispheres in the brain, which facilitates memory consolidation (Pagani et al., 2017).
These mechanisms help the client perceive and accommodate new information to achieve a sense
of emotional resolution (Shapiro, 2018). In addition, when clients reflect on a traumatic event,
they are bringing the images, thoughts, emotions, and sensations into their working memory.
Bilateral stimulation helps to challenge or tax working memory, which has been shown to reduce
the vividness of the memory (van Veen, Kang, & van Schie, 2019).
If clients report feeling stuck, overwhelmed, or shutdown during reprocessing, we can also
reintroduce cognitive reappraisal through Socratic inquiry to provide greater insight into deeply
held beliefs that may be blocking their progress. For example, if a client is blaming themselves for
an event that happened when they were a child, we can ask whether these thoughts are helpful or
what advice they would give to a friend who was having a similar thought. Ideally, this process
invites the client to think about the memory in a new way that challenges their rigid thinking
pattern or helps them perceive their situation differently. We can also integrate resources from
parts work therapy. For example, the client can imagine a loving or protective ally as they reprocess
a traumatic event from childhood. This top-down, cognitive approach can be wisely coupled with
bottom-up strategies (such as mindful body awareness and somatic repatterning interventions) to
facilitate a holistic, mind-body approach to trauma recovery. Using this integrative approach, we
136 The Complex PTSD Treatment Manual
can assist our clients to reprocess memories and develop neural networks that integrate positive
states in body and mind.
The following case exemplifies the integration of resources into the reprocessing of memories with
a woman diagnosed with C-PTSD from childhood trauma. Helen was a 40-year-old, Caucasian
woman.
As you will see, her memory reprocessing involved elements of mindful body awareness, parts
work therapy, somatic repatterning, and bilateral dual-awareness stimulation with EMDR:
Helen came into therapy after experiencing a car accident. She suffered from chronic migraines
and described feeling “cut off ” from herself. She stated that she felt inauthentic and like she
was constantly in hiding. She spoke about patterns of taking care of everyone else to the point
that she would become ill. She had an ACE score of 5, which reflected her history of being
neglected and growing up in a household characterized by mental illness, substance abuse,
domestic violence, and divorce.
As we explored Helen’s history in greater depth, I learned that she had spent much of her
childhood on a military base in another country. Her father was an alcoholic who was often
neglectful and dismissive of her needs. Her mother appeared to have strong borderline
personality traits and tended to intrude on Helen’s boundaries, even now in adulthood. Both
of her parents had histories of childhood trauma. There were also many disturbing incidents
of domestic violence that Helen had witnessed throughout her childhood.
Despite these difficulties, Helen also had several resilience factors. On the military base, she
had neighbors and teachers who were supportive and believed in her when she was a child.
She also had fond memories of spending time in nature when she was a young girl. Currently,
she is married to a supportive husband and has two children. In addition, she worked as a
hospice nurse and found a sense of meaning and purpose in her work.
Helen was eager to work through the difficult events of her childhood but struggled with
dissociative symptoms that would arise when we spoke about difficult memories. She would
become disconnected from her emotions and described feeling “cut off.” She also experienced
somatic symptoms, such as dizziness or tension in her body. The initial stages of our work
focused on strengthening her social engagement system, building dual awareness, practicing
mindful body awareness, anchoring her adult self, and developing allies for her young self.
Initially, she struggled with feeling compassion for her young self because she blamed this
part of herself for not being able to stop the “bad things” that happened in her childhood
home. In time, she was able to recognize that she had internalized this self-blame as a result
of the messages she had received from both of her parents over the years.
As Helen and I began to look more closely at the beliefs and emotions she carried, she described
feelings of shame, guilt, fear, helplessness, and disgust when she imagined herself as a young
girl. She also described feeling undeserving and unworthy of love. Many of these feelings had
globalized into a set of beliefs that she carried about herself now. When she was at work or
taking care of her family, she felt good about herself. But when she was alone or tried to take
care of herself, the feelings of guilt and shame would take over. In those moments, she felt
blocked from experiencing any positive or nourishing feelings.
Reprocessing the Past with Cognitive Behavioral and EMDR Therapies 137
Once she had developed sufficient resources and awareness of her habitual thinking patterns,
I asked Helen if she felt ready to explore working with a traumatic memory that stood out
from her childhood. She agreed to give it a try, knowing that she could change her mind at
any point. While there were many violent incidents, one specific incident happened when
Helen was 3 years old. She recalled seeing her father attempt to choke her mother and had an
image of her mother collapsed on the floor after her father walked out of the house. She then
described going into the kitchen, making her mother a bowl of soup, and attempting to feed
her mother as she sat on the bathroom floor.
This one story was representative of the many traumatic events that Helen had chronically
and repeatedly experienced. When I asked her what belief arose as she thought about this
image, she stated that this memory felt connected to a belief that she was bad if she were to
take care of herself. I asked her what she would like to believe about herself instead and she
said, “I would like to believe that I can take care of myself and that I deserve good things, but
that doesn’t feel true to me right now.” As she reflected on the memory, she described feeling
tightness in her stomach accompanied by a feeling of shame.
At this point in our work together, we progressed slowly using a modified approach to
memory reprocessing with pendulation and bilateral eye movements. However, because Helen
was experiencing dissociative symptoms, there were several periods in which we removed
the bilateral stimulation to help slow down the pace of the session and keep her within her
window of tolerance. During these parts of the process, I guided her to focus on resources by
connecting to her body and developing self-compassion. The following dialogue reflects our
work in processing this specific memory from her childhood:
Me: “Take a moment to bring to mind the image of that time when you witnessed your
father hurting your mother.”
Helen: “I imagine myself as a little girl feeling ashamed. I carried a burden. I never spoke to
anyone about what was happening in my house. I held it together for them.”
Me: “Yes, that was difficult. Are you comfortable with adding eye movements as you think
about that time?”
Helen: “Okay.” [Bilateral eye movements for about 20 seconds]
Me: “What are you noticing now?”
Helen: “I feel stuck, like I’m mute.”
Me: “Can you feel yourself as an adult now, witnessing yourself as this little girl?”
Helen: “I see her taking care of her mother. I feel disgusted by that little girl.”
Me: “What do you need right now that will allow you to be with this part of yourself?”
Helen: “I need to put my hands over my heart. It’s painful to see her pain.” [She moves hands
over chest and cries. Bilateral eye movements for about 20 seconds]
Me: “What are you noticing now?”
Helen: “I imagine my adult self, hugging the little me.”
138 The Complex PTSD Treatment Manual
Me: “Let’s go with that.” [Bilateral eye movements for about 20 seconds]
Helen: “Now I feel disconnected.”
Me: “It’s hard to feel that much pain.”
Helen: “I can see myself as a little girl, I’m in shock. I feel disconnected again. I feel dizzy.”
Me: “I’m right here with you.”
Helen: “I feel a constriction in my throat. I feel like I’m choking.”
Me: “Can you take a look around the room and notice that you are safe here and now?”
[Helen looks around and takes several long deep breaths.]
Helen: “I feel a little calmer now, but I’m afraid to look at the little girl again.”
Me: “That’s okay. Remember, you are in charge of the pace here.”
Helen: “Now I feel all zipped up. I don’t like this feeling either.”
Me: “You’re scared to connect to the pain but you don’t like feeling all zipped up. Is
that correct?”
Helen: “Yes, and when I push away my pain, my little girl feels resigned, like I’m giving up
on her.”
Me: “What would you like to do now?”
Helen: “Part of me wants to take care of her, and part of me is afraid of her.”
Me: “Ah, say more.”
Helen: “To feel connected to her feels like death.”
Me: “How so?”
Helen: “It wasn’t safe for me to exist. I feel a pit in my stomach again.”
Me: “Would you like to place your hands on your stomach and take a few deep breaths?”
[Helen places her hands on her stomach and cries.]
Helen: “I’m sad. If I take care of myself, then I feel like I’m abandoning my mother!”
Me: “You tried so hard to take care of your mother.” [Helen nods and cries silently.]
Helen: “And when I took care of her, I didn’t exist.”
Me: “You felt lost.”
Helen: [nods, cries] “My throat is tight.”
Me: “Is there a sound or a word?”
Helen: [crying audibly] “Who am I if I am not taking care of my mother?”
Me: “Ah, that’s a big question.”
Reprocessing the Past with Cognitive Behavioral and EMDR Therapies 139
This transcript came from one of several sessions when Helen and I spent reprocessing this
specific memory, which served as a representational memory of the many years of exposure to
chaotic and violent events in her childhood home. While she did return to the “zipped-up place,”
she learned how to move out of her disconnected defense with greater choice and was able to
sustain greater capacity for self-care over time.
As the client describes their current distress, begin to have them mindfully notice any accompanying
beliefs, emotions, and body sensations. If they have difficulty talking about traumatic events
from their past, their current experience of distress might be the focus of your session. However,
if clients are able to tolerate working with historical traumatic events, invite them to reflect on
their current distress and relate it to previous times when they recall experiencing similar thoughts
and feelings. If the client describes more than one traumatic event from their past, create a list
of these related events, but invite them to choose a single event that stands out as the most
significant or that was the earliest they can remember feeling that way. If the client appears
flooded or overwhelmed by the memory, help them choose one small part of the traumatic
memory and have them place the rest of the events in a container.
Once the client has chosen a focus for the session, deepen their experience by inviting them to
describe related images, emotions, body sensations, and negative beliefs about the event. Before
moving forward with reprocessing, invite the client to imagine how they would like to feel once
this disturbance is resolved and to identify a new, positive belief that they would like to hold
about themselves. Reflecting on the imagined positive outcome is like seeing the light at the end
of a tunnel and knowing there is a benefit to working through the dark and painful material.
Then return your client’s attention to the disturbing event and restate any associated negative
beliefs they have identified. Have them notice their emotions and sensations, and then ask your
client to rate their distress related to the disturbing event using a subjective units of distress
(SUDS) scale, with 10 being the “worst distress possible” and 0 being “no distress at all.”
Next, move forward with reprocessing by asking the client to mindfully observe their thoughts,
emotions, and sensations with regard to the event they have chosen as the focus of the session.
Alternate between having the client observe their inner experience related to this event for 30
seconds (about 5 to 10 breaths) and then having them reorient their attention to cues in the
here and now that indicate they are safe. If this time period is too long for the client, then work
together to determine an appropriate amount of time. After deciding on an agreed-upon period of
time, invite the client to describe any thoughts, emotions, or body sensations they are noticing.
If you are trained in EMDR therapy, you can also enhance reprocessing by adding bilateral
stimulation while they reflect on the traumatic event.
Encourage the client to trust their mind and body even if the images, thoughts, or feelings do not
feel logical. Remind the client that they are in charge of the pace and that they can stop or pause
this process at any point. Observe your client for somatic cues that suggest that they are leaving
their window of tolerance. If a client is prone to dissociation or has difficulty speaking when they
feel overwhelmed, then you can establish a nonverbal “stop signal” by asking them to lift a hand
when they need a break.
In some cases, it can be too distressing to add bilateral stimulation while the client reflects on
the traumatic event. In this case, you can experiment with adding bilateral stimulation only when
the client focuses on cues that they are safe in the here and now (Knipe, 2015). If persistent
negative beliefs lead the client to feel stuck during reprocessing, you can reintroduce the
cognitive reappraisal questions offered in the previous healing practice. Though an interactive
exchange, you and your client work as a team to facilitate a sense of resolution.
Healing Practice
Copyright © 2021, Arielle Schwartz, The Complex PTSD Treatment Manual. All rights reserved. 141
y Now go ahead and return your sensory awareness to the room. What are you
noticing? Describe any thoughts, images, or sensations that are present for
you now.
y When you are ready, once again return your attention to the event for
about 30 seconds. [Continue guiding the client into short periods of mindful
reflection on the event with intermittent check-ins about their experience.]
y If you’d like, let’s explore adding bilateral movements while you pay
attention to the event you have chosen as a focus for the session. [You
can use the previous butterfly tap exercise, or if you are trained in EMDR, you
might also introduce bilateral eye movements, tactile pulsers, or alternating
sounds in headphones. Continue short sets of focusing on the traumatic
event with added bilateral stimulation.]
If the client reports associations to other events, trust their process, but
periodically return their awareness to the original focus as a way to observe
any changes in their level of distress. If a client describes intrusive negative
thoughts or beliefs during reprocessing, then reintroduce the cognitive
reappraisal questions from the previous healing practice. If a client is working
with a memory related to a young part of the self, return to parts work
practices from chapter 6. If the client reports thoughts or images, but has
little connection to their emotions or sensations, work with them to develop
greater embodied self-awareness. If the client reports feeling stuck in their
somatic sensations, integrate movement interventions from chapter 7 to
facilitate a sense of release or resolution through the body. If you observe
cues that the client is dissociating during the exercise, or if the client reports
any feelings of being flooded or overwhelmed, then ask them to place the
disturbing memory into a container. For example:
y I notice that you are leaving your window of tolerance. Let’s go ahead and
put the disturbing event into your container and bring your full awareness
to the room. Look around the room and observe that you are safe right
here and now. The event that we are speaking about is over. If you would
like, you can engage in bilateral movements while you focus on the here
and now, and see if this helps you feel more connected to a sense of safety.
Once again, you can use the butterfly tap exercise. When you feel safe and
connected to yourself, we can slowly explore returning your attention to
the disturbing event.
Continue reprocessing the memory until the client describes feeling a sense
of resolution or a SUDS of 0. At this point, ask them to reflect on any positive
142 Copyright © 2021, Arielle Schwartz, The Complex PTSD Treatment Manual. All rights reserved.
changes they have noticed during the session. If the client has difficulty noticing
any positive change, you might reflect back to them any positive change or
insight that you observed during the course of the session.
y I am aware that we are coming to the end of our session time today. As we
prepare to complete our work for today, take a few moments to notice any
positive change or insight that you would like to take with you. Notice how
you feel in your body as you reflect on this positive change. What beliefs
about yourself do you notice now? How do you imagine that you could
bring this new awareness into your life? Take some time to explore this new
awareness.
If the client continues to exhibit a high level of distress toward the end of a
session, invite them to place the event (and any related images, thoughts,
emotions, and body sensations) into their container.
y Take a few moments before leaving here to today to place any remaining
disturbing images, thoughts, emotions, or body sensations into an
imagined container that can hold these experiences until you return to
therapy. Remember, you have a choice about when to think about any
distressing memories from your past.
Copyright © 2021, Arielle Schwartz, The Complex PTSD Treatment Manual. All rights reserved. 143
9
Restoring Wellness
with Complementary and
Alternative Medicine
Individuals are increasingly turning to complementary and alternative medicine (CAM), in
conjunction with traditional psychotherapy, for the treatment of mental illness, chronic pain,
and physical conditions (Berna, 2019; de Jongh et al., 2016). Common forms of CAM include
exercise, massage therapy, bodywork, nutrition therapy, acupuncture, meditation, relaxation,
yoga, Tai Chi, and Qigong. By definition, complementary refers to the use of any of these
practices alongside conventional medicine or therapy practices, whereas alternative means that
the intervention is used to replace conventional medicine or therapy practices. In this chapter, I
explore the benefits of CAM and the value of helping clients develop integrative healthcare teams
to respond to the impact of trauma on both mental and physical health. The healing practices
within this chapter focus on the integration of CAM within therapy. These interventions will allow
clients to identify healthcare goals and work through barriers that might otherwise prevent them
from integrating exercise, healthy nutrition, mindful eating, meditation, yoga, and relaxation
practices into their lives.
There is an undeniable correlation between C-PTSD and physical health problems, including
chronic pain and illness (Felitti et al., 1998; Harrell et al., 2011; Paradies et al., 2015). For example,
individuals with C-PTSD commonly experience obesity, seizures, migraines, gastrointestinal
problems, autoimmune disorders, fibromyalgia, chronic fatigue, and an array of medically
unexplained symptoms. In part, trauma disrupts physical health because of its impact on the
ANS. Under ordinary conditions, the SNS and PNS are meant to work in a rhythmic fashion that
supports healthy digestion, sleep, and immune system functioning. Unresolved trauma disrupts
this balance, resulting in prolonged dysregulation of the ANS, which changes the functioning of
the HPA axis and alters how the body processes cortisol. More specifically, clients who are stuck
in a state of hyper-arousal have chronic SNS activation and increased cortisol levels. Due to the
inverse relationship between bloodstream cortisol levels and immune system functioning (Scaer,
2005), the prolonged fight-or-flight activation that accompanies this state suppresses the immune
145
146 The Complex PTSD Treatment Manual
system, making these individuals more susceptible to frequent colds, high blood pressure, blood
sugar imbalances, cravings for salty or sugary snacks, obesity, sluggish digestion, and cancer.
In contrast, individuals who are stuck in a hypo-aroused state have an imbalanced expression of
the PNS associated with the dorsal vagal complex, which is related to lower baseline levels of
cortisol (Yehuda, 2002). These reductions in cortisol serve to increase immune system functioning,
which can lead to inflammation and pain throughout the body. An unrestrained immune system
may also target tissues and organ systems within the body, leading to greater likelihood of
autoimmune disorders (Bergmann, 2012). Digestive disturbances are common as well—including
constipation, diarrhea, gastroesophageal reflux disease, irritable bowel syndrome, and ulcerative
colitis—as are sleep disturbances and hormonal imbalances. Individuals in this hypo-aroused state
may also be subjected to invasive medical procedures, medical mismanagement, or misdiagnoses
as they attempt to navigate their chronic pain, leading to further traumatization.
The microbiota–gut–brain (MGB) axis also plays an important role in the functioning of the HPA
axis as related to traumatic stress reactions (Malan-Muller et al., 2018). The MGB axis refers to a
bidirectional set of interactions between the gut and the brain. Our microbiota reflects all of the
microorganisms that live within the human body, including bacteria and viruses. Trillions of these
microorganisms and their genetic material live within the intestinal tract and are often referred to
as the “gut microbiome.” The gut has also been called our second or “enteric” brain, in part because
the intestines are capable of producing the same neurotransmitters found in the brain. These
neurochemicals facilitate communications between our digestive system and our nervous system.
When individuals experience mental and emotional stress, this is associated with imbalances in
the gut microbiome, referred to as “dysbiosis,” which contribute to immune system dysfunction
and inflammation. This can lead to a vicious cycle in which imbalances in the body can worsen
anxiety, depression, and traumatic stress reactions (Foster, Rinaman, & Cryan, 2017). While
most psychotherapy focuses on mental and emotional changes, many CAM treatments focus
on creating balance in the body in order to improve the mind. For instance, nutrition therapy
focuses on identifying and treating nutritional deficiencies, managing blood sugar imbalances,
and eliminating food allergies or sensitivities in order to improve immune system functioning,
reduce inflammation, and treat mental health conditions. As an example, magnesium deficiency
can contribute to anxiety, and gluten sensitivity can exacerbate depression (Korn, 2016).
Many CAM treatments, such as massage therapy, meditation, and yoga, are effective because they
bring about physiological changes in the ANS as measured by changes in vagal tone and heart rate
variability (Trakroo & Bhavanani, 2016). Healthy vagal tone involves a rhythmic increase in heart
rate on each inhale and a decrease in heart rate during each exhale. This creates a healthy balance
between SNS and PNS actions. Each inhale subtly engages the SNS as the heartbeat speeds up,
and each exhale engages the PNS as the heart rate slows back down. This balance is referred to
as heart rate variability (HRV), which is a marker for resiliency. In fact, HRV is one of the ways
that researchers measure the changes that happen in mind-body therapies. HRV is measured
by the rhythmic oscillations of your heart rate that occur with the breath. Your heart rate is a
measure of the number of beats per minute, whereas HRV is a measure of the intervals between
your heartbeats. High HRV means there is greater variability between the number of heartbeats,
which is typically associated with a greater ability to tolerate or recover from stress. In contrast,
low HRV is associated with stress, anxiety, and depression. Practices that increase HRV help build
Restoring Wellness with Complementary and Alternative Medicine 147
flexibility and resilience within the ANS. As a result, it becomes easier to move between feelings
of excitement and ease.
The yogic tradition of pranayama or conscious breathing has been found to enhance HRV and
is associated with improved immune system health, as well as reduced anxiety, depression, and
PTSD symptoms (Brown & Gerbarg, 2005a, 2005b; Rhodes et al., 2016; Seppälä et al., 2014).
Similarly, CAM treatments that involve meditation, such as the loving-kindness meditation, are
associated with greater autonomic flexibility, increased vagal tone, more positive emotions, and an
increased sense of social connectedness (Kok & Fredrickson, 2010; Kok et al., 2013). The loving-
kindness meditation has also been associated with improvements in chronic pain (Carson et al.,
2005). In addition, meditation practices that focus on gratitude, such as keeping a daily gratitude
journal, are associated with positive mood, increased optimism, a sense of connection to others,
decreased pain, and better sleep (Emmons, 2007; Emmons & McCullough, 2003).
Integrating gentle forms of acupressure and self-massage into psychotherapy also has benefits for
trauma recovery. For example, the emotional freedom technique is a therapeutic modality based
on Chinese medicine that involves self-tapping on traditional acupressure points on the face and
upper body. Applied to psychotherapy, therapists teach clients the tapping technique while they
incorporate the cognitive process of stating a psychological concern aloud with an intention of
unconditional self-acceptance. Research has shown that this practice is associated with significant
reductions in PTSD symptoms and improvements in the regulation of stress hormones (Church &
Feinstein, 2017). In addition, research from the Touch Research Institute has shown the benefits
of massage therapy in alleviating depression, reducing pain, and improving immune system
functioning (Field, 2014).
Although there is some support for touch as a therapeutic intervention, it also carries significant
potential risks, including the potential for clients to feel violated by therapist-touch behaviors. As
a result, the use of touch is often contraindicated in psychotherapy because of the complexity of
transference dynamics and risks around the blurring of boundaries between therapists and clients.
Instead, we can introduce clients to the Havening Technique (Ruden, 2011), which involves
having clients engage in self-touch of the face, arms, and hands while reflecting on a stressful or
traumatic event. In this way, we bring the benefits of touch into psychotherapy.
It is often necessary to focus on basic healthcare needs to facilitate stabilization when working
with clients with C-PSTD. Here, we explore with clients whether they are getting enough sleep,
eating at regular intervals, staying hydrated, and sufficiently digesting their food. As needed, we
can then prioritize interventions to address these basic needs by ensuring that clients have access
to food, set reminders to drink water, or learn sleep hygiene strategies to assist with debilitating
insomnia. For example, we can encourage clients to reduce caffeine use during the day or manage
computer or phone screen exposure after dark by wearing blue light blocking glasses. Given that
insomnia can lead to irritability, anxiety, poor concentration, confusion, and depression, we can
also partner with other medical professionals to help clients access pharmaceutical medications,
natural supplements, herbal medicines, bodywork, or acupuncture to assist with sleep.
148 The Complex PTSD Treatment Manual
The integration of CAM into therapy falls into two categories: referring clients to outside
practitioners and offering interventions within sessions. When referring to other treatment
providers, we can help clients develop an integrative healthcare team. For example, this team might
include conventional medical professionals, a nutritionist, an exercise coach, a massage therapist,
an acupuncturist, and a meditation or therapeutic yoga teacher. With a signed release from clients,
we can discuss their mental and physical healthcare goals with members of this team. These
sorts of CAM treatments are becoming increasingly accessible. For example, many community
mental health centers offer group auricular acupuncture, which has demonstrated benefits in
the treatment of anxiety, depression, insomnia, digestive issues, substance use, migraines, and
chronic pain (Murakami, Fox, & Dijkers, 2017). Likewise, meditation and therapeutic yoga for
trauma recovery have become increasingly available, with ample research demonstrating their
effectiveness in reducing sympathetic activation, blood pressure, inflammation, opiate use, and
PTSD symptoms, while also improving neuroendocrine activity, endocrine system health, and
heart rate variability (Bolton et al., 2020; Emerson, 2015; Price et al., 2017; Rhodes et al., 2016;
Tyagi & Cohen, 2016; van der Kolk et al., 2014).
However, it can be challenging to integrate CAM into mental health treatment due to issues with
insurance coverage, lack of affordable options, lack of trauma-informed referral sources, and
time constraints (Schwartz, 2014). As a solution, we can offer these interventions in more easily
accessible way. For example, as appropriate, we can provide guided mindfulness and relaxation
practices through a variety of technologies, such Insight Timer, which is a free downloadable
app that has a wide variety of guided meditations. As therapists, we can also provide some CAM
interventions in therapy sessions to increase accessibility to these treatments without having to
rely upon outside practitioners. Let’s take a closer look at the value of increasing availability to
CAM through my experience of working with Ruby, a middle-aged, African American woman
struggling with C-PTSD and myalgic encephalomyelitis/chronic fatigue syndrome (ME/CFS):
Ruby was in her early forties when she was referred to therapy by her doctor after an episode
of depression and fatigue that kept her in bed for approximately three months. At that
time, she was diagnosed with ME/CFS. When she entered therapy, I learned that she was
suffering from symptoms of depression, anxiety, brain fog, dizziness, fatigue, joint pain,
and digestive difficulties. In her worst moments, Ruby felt hopeless and carried a sense of
despair about her future. This often corresponded to times when her pain and fatigue were
debilitating, which interfered with her ability to parent her children or enjoy her life.
When exploring Ruby’s history, I learned that her mother was emotionally unavailable and
disengaged, while her father was an alcoholic. As a child, Ruby would often “hang out” with
her father while he was drunk, and during these times, she became his confidant as he talked
about his own childhood abuse. When Ruby was 12 years old, she began to drink and use
drugs with friends at school. She engaged in increasingly risky and dangerous behaviors that
led to multiple sexual traumas, including a gang rape that occurred when she was 17. Ruby
eventually became sober in her late twenties, after which she married and had two children.
In session, Ruby and I explored her window of tolerance and discussed her symptoms of
depression, dizziness, brain fog, and fatigue as related to hypo-arousal. She learned to
mindfully pay attention to her body in session and explored changes in her breathing and
posture that helped her feel grounded and connected to her body. Ruby and I also explored
Restoring Wellness with Complementary and Alternative Medicine 149
her healthcare goals as related to therapy. In doing so, she shared that she was beginning to
understand the connection between her trauma and her physical health. She wanted to heal
from her past, and we developed a plan to help her integrate healthy nutrition, meditation,
and gentle exercise into her life. I also suggested that she begin working with a craniosacral
therapist to help support her nervous system.
Between sessions, she began to practice relaxing and mindful resting using a free guided Yoga
Nidra practice available through Insight Timer. She also began craniosacral therapy. After a
month, Ruby already began to notice a reduction in her symptoms of brain fog and dizziness. This
stabilization allowed us to begin addressing the traumatic events from her past using somatic
psychology and EMDR therapy. We progressed in a titrated manner with careful attention to
nervous system regulation. During this process, Ruby and I both noticed that she would often
feel foggy just prior to having an emotional release, and her fog would lift once she expressed
her feelings.
Despite this progress, Ruby had difficulty meeting her lifestyle goals of creating dietary
changes and incorporating exercise into her routine. She knew she would feel better if
she ate less sugar, walked, and began a gentle yoga practice, but she struggled with the
legitimate concern that too much exercise would exacerbate her ME/CFS symptoms. She
also expressed the fear that nothing she did would make a difference, so she felt that maybe
it wasn’t worth trying.
As we compassionately explored these barriers, she identified an underlying blocking belief
that she didn’t deserve good things. Through parts work therapy, she grew curious about
the part of her that carried this feeling of unworthiness and discovered a connection to the
shame she felt as a 12-year-old when she began drinking and using drugs. She was able to
achieve resolution with this part of herself, which allowed her to commit to making dietary
changes and engaging in a gentle exercise program that didn’t worsen her ME/CFS symptoms.
While Ruby’s fatigue and pain didn’t completely resolve, her hopelessness and despair were
significantly reduced, which allowed her to respond more compassionately and effectively to
her physical needs for rest and relaxation. As a result, her episodes of fatigue and pain were
more transient than they had been in the past, which helped her feel more in control and
engaged in her life.
You can use the next healing practice to identify your clients’ physical health concerns and
healthcare goals. Within this practice, explore with clients their history of illness and injury,
making sure to gain an understanding of their current symptoms and chronic pain. As you explore
lifestyle changes that the client would like to make to facilitate their recovery, it is important that
you identify current strengths and work with the client to create shared healthcare goals.
Healing Practice
150 Copyright © 2021, Arielle Schwartz, The Complex PTSD Treatment Manual. All rights reserved.
y Are there any lifestyle changes that you would like to create or goals that
you would like to set for your physical health? These goals might include
integrating an exercise routine into your life, creating more time for
meditation or yoga, committing to writing in your journal, or focusing on
dietary changes. Let’s write down a list of these goals together.
Copyright © 2021, Arielle Schwartz, The Complex PTSD Treatment Manual. All rights reserved. 151
152 The Complex PTSD Treatment Manual
Some clients might desire to integrate lifestyle changes, such as exercise, nutritional changes, or
meditation, but have difficulty sustaining these health-promoting behaviors. It is common for a
vicious cycle of shame to ensue in which clients feel powerless to meet their healthcare goals. For
example, clients might know that they need to change their diet, exercise more, or set up a visit
with a doctor to address a medical problem. However, they might also believe that nothing they
do will make a difference, that they don’t deserve to be healthy, or that change is impossible. Or
they might not feel safe with or trusting of medical professionals, or they might fear that they will
lose access to financial or emotional resources if they get better. As a result, they avoid doing the
very activities that would promote their health. If left unaddressed, these factors can lead to the
worsening of physical health problems.
Use the next healing practice to help clients identify beliefs that interfere with their healing, such
as the notion that nothing they do will make a difference or that they don’t deserve to be healthy.
This practice can also help clients identify and compassionately work with any feelings of shame,
helplessness, fear, or distrust that impact their recovery. If you and the client identify a pattern
of self-sabotage, you can return to the parts work practices from chapter 6. Or you and the client
might identify a blocking belief or emotion that is connected to a traumatic event from the client’s
past. In this case, you can use the somatic repatterning or cognitive reprocessing healing practices
from chapters 7 and 8. It is also important to consider that some physical health problems will not
go away. In this case, it may be necessary to help clients work toward grieving and accepting their
chronic illness or autoimmune conditions as unresolvable. This process can allow clients to more
successfully focus on the aspects of their healthcare that are under their control. As with the other
healing practices in this book, tailor the intervention to meet the needs of your client.
Healing Practice
Copyright © 2021, Arielle Schwartz, The Complex PTSD Treatment Manual. All rights reserved. 153
y Explore sabotaging parts: You might notice a conflict between a part of
you who wants to… [e.g., stop eating sugar, see the doctor, begin exercising,
stop smoking] and a part of you who… [e.g., is afraid of change, feels helpless,
doesn’t believe healing is possible]. I invite you to turn toward the belief
that… [e.g., you can never get better, you do not deserve to get better, you
are powerless to change your situation] or the feeling of [e.g., shame, anger,
sadness, helplessness, confusion, fear]. Do you recall other times in your life
when you felt this way? Do you have any memories connected to this belief
or these feelings? How old does this part feel? Notice how you feel toward
this part of yourself. Is there anything that this part needs from you?
y Build acceptance and compassion: I invite you to turn toward the belief
that… [e.g., you can never get better, you do not deserve to get better, you are
powerless to change your situation] or the feeling of… [e.g., shame, anger,
sadness, helplessness, confusion, fear]. What would it feel like to fully accept
yourself, just as you are, with these thoughts and feelings? You might say
to yourself, “I am okay just as I am” or “I am willing to accept myself even if I
cannot completely recover.” Notice how it feels to be with your experience
without needing to change, control, or fix yourself.
y Engage with change: Take a moment to review your healthcare goals. Now
that you have identified some of the barriers that interfere with your ability
to reach these goals, you are ready to focus your attention on new beliefs
and behaviors that will enhance your health. I’d like for you to choose one
action that you would like to take during the week to support your health.
This might involve making a dietary change, choosing an exercise goal,
committing to a mindfulness practice, or engaging in a reflective activity,
such as journaling or a creative project. Explore the kinds of support that
you need to help you to be most successful with this new behavior. Take
a moment to identify the best time in your day or week to engage in this
activity. Where is the best location that will help you to be successful? Allow
yourself to imagine completing the new behavior successfully. If you notice
any blocking beliefs or feelings, explore if there is anything else that you
need to navigate around or remove this barrier.
154 Copyright © 2021, Arielle Schwartz, The Complex PTSD Treatment Manual. All rights reserved.
Restoring Wellness with Complementary and Alternative Medicine 155
Irregularities in the vagus nerve can cause tremendous disruptions to physical and emotional
health. Physical consequences can include gastroesophageal reflux disease, irritable bowel
syndrome, nausea or vomiting, fainting, migraines, tinnitus, autoimmune disorders, or seizures.
Mental health consequences can include fatigue, depression, panic attacks, or a classic alternation
between feeling overwhelmed and shutdown. Traditional vagus nerve stimulation treatment, also
referred to as neuromodulation, involves surgically implanting a bioelectronic device that provides
stimulation for the vagus nerve. However, it is also possible to indirectly stimulate the vagus
nerve naturally. Recall that the vagus nerve passes through the belly, diaphragm, lungs, throat,
inner ear, and facial muscles. Therefore, practices that change or control the actions of these areas
of the body can influence the functioning of the vagus nerve through the mind-body feedback
loop, especially since 80 percent of the nerve fibers are sensory or afferent, meaning that they
communicate messages from the body to the central nervous system.
Vagus nerve stimulation helps regulate both sympathetic hyper-arousal and parasympathetic
hypo-arousal. When the vagus nerve is activated, it keeps the immune system in check and
releases an assortment of hormones and neurotransmitters into the body, such as acetylcholine
and oxytocin, which result in reductions in inflammation, improvements in allergies, relief from
tension headaches, improvements in memory, and feelings of relaxation (Groves & Brown, 2005).
Since all vagus nerve stimulation initiates a relaxation response, it is important to help clients
develop tolerance for being in a parasympathetic state without moving into a state of dysfunctional
hypo-arousal in which they feel collapsed or shutdown. Initially, clients might routinely fall
asleep when exploring relaxation or vagus nerve interventions. So long as this pattern of sleeping
does not worsen symptoms, we can simply encourage clients to allow themselves to be nourished
by the experience and trust that sleeping can be medicinal for their nervous system. However, we
also want to help clients differentiate between a dorsal vagal response and a healthy yielding into
gravity as discussed in chapter 7. If the client describes that physical health symptoms worsen in
response to any vagal stimulation exercises, help them discover a relaxed yet alert state by asking
them to experiment with sitting up instead of laying down or keeping their eyes open during
the practice.
You can explore natural vagus stimulation through gentle yoga breath and movement interventions
that aim to stimulate and balance the vagus nerve. Slowing down the exhale is considered the
most direct way to balance the vagus nerve, as an emphasis on a slow, lengthened out-breath
stimulates nerve fibers in the lungs to initiate a relaxation response. This is particularly the case
when there is an emphasis on fully emptying the lungs through engagement of the diaphragm
and abdominal muscles, which also provides a gentle massage to the digestive organs. You can
teach clients to lengthen the exhale with gentle yoga breath practices, such as adding a slight
constriction in the throat and an audible quality to the breath by making a “ha” sound. Humming
also stimulates the vagus nerve as it passes through the throat and inner ear.
Another way to engage the vagus nerve is by relaxing the eyes and releasing the muscles in the
neck. The eyes are regulated by twelve extraocular muscles that extend down into the suboccipital
muscles surrounding the upper cervical vertebrae. The extraocular nerve endings have a direct
connection to the vagus nerve, which explains why we can often see in our clients’ eyes whether
156 The Complex PTSD Treatment Manual
they feel stressed or relaxed. When we relax the muscles in the eyes, this engages an innate reflex
called the oculocardiac reflex (OCR), which initiates a parasympathetic response to slow down
the heart rate and lower blood pressure. Individuals can faint if this response happens too quickly.
However, we can also stimulate the OCR by providing gentle pressure on the eyes, which can have
a calming effect on the nervous system. This can be accomplished by placing an eye pillow over
the eyes during relaxation or by placing the palms of the hand over the eyes and applying very
light pressure.
We can also stimulate the vagus nerve through eye movements, which increase blood flow to the
vertebral artery and stimulate the vagus nerve as it passes through the upper neck. For example,
oculocardiac convergence visual therapy, which involves having clients repeatedly converge their
eyes on a nearby focal point (about four inches away from the face) and then shift to a distant focal
point, has been found to reduce anxiety and panic (Merrill & Bowan, 2008). In addition, the vagus
nerve passes right behind the sternocleidomastoid muscles (SCM) and in front of the scalenes, which
tend to be the tightest muscles in the neck. Therefore, exercises that involve moving the eyes to
the right and left with accompanying stretching of the SCM and scalenes in the neck also tend to
produce a relaxation response by engaging the vagus nerve (Rosenberg, 2017).
The final healing practices in this chapter offer yoga, self-tapping, Havening, and meditation-
based interventions that you can introduce to clients. When offering any therapeutic practice
for individuals who have experienced trauma, it is important to ensure that clients feel safe.
We accomplish this by helping clients know that they have a choice about whether or not they
want to engage in any practice. They have a choice about how to move their bodies and how
to breathe. Depending upon their trauma and health history, any breath-focused intervention,
especially those that involve holding the breath, might trigger them into a state of sympathetic
hyper-arousal or shut them down into a state of collapse. Make sure clients know that they can
say no and opt out of any practice.
While several of these breath practices have specific instructions, it is equally important to let
clients know that they can adapt or change any practice. For example, they can choose to practice
with their eyes open or closed, or they can choose to stand up, be seated, or lay down on a
couch. This emphasis on choice is especially important when offering the guided yogic relaxation
intervention since relaxing the body into stillness can feel very vulnerable for clients with an
extended trauma history or who have a tendency toward dissociation and immobilization.
With an emphasis on choice, we reduce the likelihood that these interventions will come across as
forceful, and we decrease the likelihood that the client will approach the practice in a perfectionistic
or self-aggressive manner. I suggest introducing only one healing practice at time, and then invite
the client to mindfully observe and share their experience. Remember, not all practices will work
for all clients.
Healing Practice
Copyright © 2021, Arielle Schwartz, The Complex PTSD Treatment Manual. All rights reserved. 157
Exhale slowly while you create a soft and whispered “ha” sound until you
have emptied your lungs. You can imagine that you are trying to fog up a
mirror as you make the “ha” sound. Continue to breathe in this manner, or
if you would like, you can keep the same slight constriction in your throat
and audible quality to the breath as you breathe in and out of your nose.
In yoga, this breath practice is referred to as Ujayii pranayama, which
translates to the victorious breath. The victory is over the mind. Continue
for five to ten more breaths, and once you are complete, notice how you
feel mentally, physically, and emotionally.
y If you would like, I’d like to share with you the yogic practice of Bhamari
Pranayama, which is translated as the honeybee breath. For this breath, you
can explore humming on the exhale to create a vibration in the eardrums.
Since the vagus nerve passes by the vocal chords and inner ear, this breath
can be calming for your body and mind. You can also explore how it feels
to take place your palms over your ears to amplify the feeling and sound in
your ears. Continue for five rounds of this breath—taking a deep breath in
and then humming on the exhale—and notice the sensations in your chest,
throat, and head. Once you are complete, take a moment to notice how you
feel mentally, physically, and emotionally.
158 Copyright © 2021, Arielle Schwartz, The Complex PTSD Treatment Manual. All rights reserved.
Healing Practice
Copyright © 2021, Arielle Schwartz, The Complex PTSD Treatment Manual. All rights reserved. 159
it feels to breathe into the sensations of your upper back, neck, and the
base of your skull. To complete, allow your head and eyes to soften toward
your center, and notice any subtle shifts in your body and mind. Notice any
changes in how you feel mentally, emotionally, and physically.
y We can also balance the vagus nerve by covering our eyes, which can have
a calming effect on the body. If you’d like, explore how it feels to lift your
hands and place your palms over your eyes. Allow your hands to create a
gentle pressure over the eyes and take several breaths, softening your eyes
in this position. Notice how you feel mentally, physically, and emotionally.
160 Copyright © 2021, Arielle Schwartz, The Complex PTSD Treatment Manual. All rights reserved.
Healing Practice
y Now observe how you are feeling. Take a moment to reflect on your area of
concern, and rate your level of distress on a scale of 0 to 10, with 10 being
the “worst distress possible” and 0 being “no distress at all.”
y Notice if the sensation has changed or if a new area of concern has come to
the surface. If so, repeat the steps with this new area of concern. Continue
until the level of distress is reduced to a tolerable level or gone.
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162 Copyright © 2021, Arielle Schwartz, The Complex PTSD Treatment Manual. All rights reserved.
Healing Practice
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Healing Practice
164 Copyright © 2021, Arielle Schwartz, The Complex PTSD Treatment Manual. All rights reserved.
Healing Practice
Copyright © 2021, Arielle Schwartz, The Complex PTSD Treatment Manual. All rights reserved. 165
10
Nurturing Resilience and
Post-Traumatic Growth
The tender places and wounds left behind from chronic and repeated traumatic events often do
not completely go away. However, when clients make a commitment to trauma recovery, they have
an opportunity to recognize that the traumatic events of their past do not need to define their
future. They can learn to accept themselves as they are and hold themselves with compassion. This
journey toward acceptance often evokes grief as clients confront the painful truth that they cannot
change the past. It can be difficult to let go of the fantasy that they will finally receive the love,
attention, or protection that they needed when they were a child. It can also be difficult to let go
of any hopes for redemption or retaliation against an abuser. All of these feelings are valid. While
some individuals may choose to work toward forgiveness of their abusers, forgiveness is not the
same as forgetting, and it does not mean that what happened was acceptable.
This concluding chapter focuses on the third phase of trauma recovery by helping clients work
through lingering feelings of anger, resentment, and sadness in order to cultivate a feeling of
hope for the future. Over time, the hard work of trauma reprocessing helps clients discover their
resilience and illuminates areas of post-traumatic growth. As a result, they may discover a greater
willingness to stay engaged in life even with the knowledge that they risk facing additional difficult
events. They can discover the unique skills and strengths that they have gained as a result of the
difficult events from their past. Ultimately, clients can learn to weave together their strengths
and struggles to create a sense of self that feels increasingly integrated and whole.
Within this phase of treatment, we support clients to apply the wisdom gained from therapy into
their lives. However, it is wise to remember that trauma recovery is not linear. For example, clients
might work through some of their traumatic memories and move into a meaning-making process
prior to reengaging with trauma reprocessing. Regardless of the course that your clients’ healing
path takes, you can use the final healing practices in this book to focus on forgiveness and invite
clients to reflect on their strengths as related to post-traumatic growth.
One of the tasks of healing from complex trauma involves working through impaired meaning
making as related to self-perception. It is common for individuals with C-PTSD to experience
intense shame and confusion as a result of abuse, especially when this originates in childhood.
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168 The Complex PTSD Treatment Manual
This shame is driven by distorted beliefs about being at fault, bad, or damaged. Most often, shame
and self-blame reflect anger that has been turned inward toward the self. Here, we may need to
guide clients to return the responsibility to the abuser. For example, they might blame themselves
because they didn’t say no to their abuser or didn’t tell anyone about the abuse. In this case, we
can remind clients that a child is never responsible for the abusive actions of an adult and that
many children do not speak up because they believe they must obey their abuser and are afraid of
being further harmed.
When we return responsibility to the abuser, it is common for anger to arise. Although healthy
anger is necessary for self-protection, anger can also linger in a way that is deep, long-lasting,
and disruptive. This kind of anger can lead clients to lose sleep, ruminate about past events, or
become obsessed with retaliation fantasies. Often, our work involves encouraging them to express
these feelings of betrayal and resentment. This process may evoke the painful recognition that
they cannot change the past, which can open up underlying feelings of sadness, loss, and hurt.
However, grieving the past can also bring about a sense of resolution, acceptance, and forgiveness.
Importantly, forgiveness should never be a forced process. When clients feel stuck around the
concept of forgiveness, it may be important to remind them that forgiveness is a choice and
that it does not require that they reconcile with someone who has harmed them. Moreover, the
benefit of forgiveness is that it supports the client in feeling a greater sense of freedom. In some
cases, forgiveness arises as clients recognize that the actions of another person were never personal
to them at all. Perhaps they realize that the perpetrator of abuse had faced their own hardship or
suffered from their own trauma. Such realizations can facilitate a sense of compassion for these
individuals despite their harmful actions.
In addition, trauma often forces us to come to terms with the lack of reason or overpowering
senselessness that surrounds acts of violence or abuse. It is common to wonder how or why
such atrocities or evil can exist in this world. For many trauma survivors, therapy serves as an
introspective journey and search for meaning (Frankl, 1946/2006). There is no universal meaning
that can be generalized to all people or situations. Rather, meaning making is a personal process
that arises as individuals work through feelings of despair until they find resolution with the past
and hope for the future.
We support the process of meaning making when we invite clients to reflect on the ways that they
have grown or changed as a result of the work of trauma recovery. Turning toward pain helps clients
build a sense of character and allows them to realize that they are stronger than they previously
believed (Tedeschi et al., 2018). Often, they feel more capable of handling life’s challenges. This
“post-traumatic growth” has been associated with enhanced interpersonal relationships, increased
willingness to ask for or accept help, increased willingness to be vulnerable, increased recognition
of social supports that had previously been ignored, increased appreciation of life, increased ability
to “take it easy,” newly found interests or passions, and spiritual discoveries (Schwartz, 2020).
According to the principles of ACT (Hayes, 2005), a meaningful life occurs when we live in
alignment with our strengths and values. Examples of strengths and values include being open-
minded, treating others with kindness, having a sense of social responsibility, being creative,
connecting with nature, spending time with others, or learning new things. If there is a gap
between our values and our behaviors, we are more likely to feel stuck, depressed, or unsatisfied
in our lives. As clients identify their earned strengths and values, we can invite them to explore
Nurturing Resilience and Post-Traumatic Growth 169
how they would like to bring these capacities into the world. For example, a woman who suffered
from childhood abuse became an advocate for other survivors, and a man who experienced
discrimination as a result of racism focused his work on social justice. It can be deeply satisfying
to know that suffering can serve a cause that is greater than ourselves.
Let’s take a closer look at meaning making through my experience of working with Lilah, a Jewish
woman in her mid-forties who was diagnosed with C-PTSD due to childhood trauma and who
carried intergenerational, legacy trauma related to the Holocaust. Lilah struggled with severe
anxiety and mild dissociative symptoms:
Lilah came into therapy with “unmanageable anxiety” that interfered with her ability to sleep,
drive, or work. She described feeling intense separation anxiety each time her husband left
the house. She worried that something bad would happen to him and she carried a belief
that she “couldn’t handle it” if he died. This led her to worry about her future when he left
for business trips. In sessions, Lilah shared that she had a difficult relationship with both of
her parents and that she grew up as the middle child of three daughters. She often described
having to “survive on scraps” and that she had to fight for love and attention in her family.
This pattern of scarcity in her family system went back for several generations. Lilah shared
that her grandmother was a survivor of the Holocaust who had experienced the trauma of
losing both of her parents and her brother. She described her grandmother as rigid, cold, and
unexpressive, and while her grandfather was warmer, he could lose his temper. The person to
whom she felt most connected in her family was her father, but he died of cancer several years
before I met Lilah.
In one particularly moving session, Lilah described the fears that would arise when her husband
left the house. She intuitively felt that this anxiety was connected to her grandmother’s losses
related to the Holocaust. She said, “I can’t let go. The world is not safe” and described feeling as
if a wall was holding back a tidal wave of grief. I observed that she was holding her breath and
appeared frozen in her body. As we acknowledged the grief, she described an ache in her heart
and a tightness in her throat. She said, “There is so much grief. It is mine, but it isn’t mine.”
When I asked her to explore what she needed to find resolution with these feelings, she
identified that she wished her grandmother could have had support for her grief. Lilah described
remembering her grandmother’s closed-off body language and stoic facial expressions when
she visited as a little girl. As Lilah connected these memories, she began to cry. Lilah grieved as
she recognized that her grandmother carried this pain until she died. This pain had prevented
her grandmother from bonding to Lilah’s mother and impaired her mother’s ability to love
her. As she realized that her grandmother couldn’t handle any more loss, Lilah said, “I’m afraid
of loss too. I don’t have a relationship with my mother, and I have lost my father. I can’t face
another loss.”
I acknowledged Lilah’s fear that she couldn’t handle another loss and also reflected her
strength in persevering despite these challenges. I also identified how she had chosen to be
in relationship with her husband even though she feared losing him. She took in this positive
feedback and paused. She then said, “I feel like I am carrying this fear for my grandmother.”
At this point, Lilah realized that she was doing what her grandmother and mother were never
able to do. She was feeling her sadness and talking about her fears. She sat up just a little bit
taller and looked me squarely in the eyes as she stated, “I am learning to let go.” This began her
170 The Complex PTSD Treatment Manual
courageous journey of trusting in her own strengths as a survivor and gaining greater trust
that she could relax when her husband was away.
As evidenced by Lilah’s story, clients can develop the capacity to reflect on challenging life
events while cultivating awareness of their strengths. This process can help them realize that all
of their life experiences collectively make them who they are. This facilitates what Dr. Daniel
Siegel (2010) calls coherence, a characteristic that helps us feel integrated, whole, and capable of
reflecting on our complex and diverse life experiences. Coherence helps us relate to dichotomies
and contradictions within ourselves, our interpersonal relationships, and our world with
equanimity. We understand that all relationships will inevitably have challenges and times of
disconnection. We recognize that opening our hearts to the world entails the risk of rejection
or loss. We build our capacity to handle conflicts. Moreover, we recognize that although other
people may have different beliefs or feelings than us, we can still treat them (and ourselves) with
respect and kindness. These final two healing practices focus on forgiveness and invite clients to
reflect on their earned strengths and post-traumatic growth so they can create a life that fulfills
a deeper sense of meaning and purpose.
Healing Practice
y Would you be willing to make space for your feelings of anger, resentment,
and hurt in relationship to… [name the person from the client’s life]? What
feels incomplete about this relationship? Is there anything that you wish
you could say to this person? What do you want them to know? Ask yourself
if you feel a desire to punish or retaliate against this person. If so, give
yourself space for your anger. How do you feel as you speak these words out
loud? Can you create more space for you and your feelings? What do you
notice in your body?
y Take a moment to imagine this other person. What do you think caused
them to behave the way they did? What do you imagine motivated their
actions toward you? Are you aware of any trauma or losses that they
suffered? Once again, notice how you feel in your body and make space for
your emotions.
y This is completely optional, but if you would like, explore how it feels to
imagine forgiving this person. Perhaps, explore saying the words “I forgive
you.” Or, if this doesn’t feel right, perhaps explore how it feels to say the
words, “I release you.” Once again, take some time to notice how you feel
emotionally and in your body.
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172 Copyright © 2021, Arielle Schwartz, The Complex PTSD Treatment Manual. All rights reserved.
Nurturing Resilience and Post-Traumatic Growth 173
Conclusion
I invite you to take a moment to reflect upon your own process of reading this book. In what ways
do you imagine this content will assist you in your work with your clients? What barriers might
arise that inhibit your ability to integrate these practices into your work? And what would best
support you to continue to thrive in your work with clients who have experienced trauma? Perhaps
you would like to seek out additional supervision aligned with this mind-body treatment model.
Or maybe you will decide to further your education through additional trainings. I also suggest
that you to return to this book regularly. You might find yourself revisiting particular passages
or healing practices that illuminate another perspective or that help you feel refreshed when you
feel fatigued.
Most importantly, I encourage you to stay the course when the path to healing seems to take
unexpected twists and turns. Recovery from trauma, especially C-PTSD, is rarely linear. However,
there is growth and healing on the other side. Each insight or new positive development makes
a difference. In time, these seemingly insignificant moments of growth accumulate and help
your clients develop trust in the process and in themselves. Moreover, my hope is that you feel
supported to grow through your work with your clients. In closing, I would like to personally
thank you for your willingness to turn toward the suffering of others—your commitment to
bringing care and compassion to the world makes a difference.
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