Developing Complex PTSD After Years Of Abuse: My Personal Account
When people hear “abuse,” they often think of bruises or shouting. But complex trauma, the kind that comes from living day in and day out in fear, silence, or shame, goes far deeper. It gets into your nervous system. It changes how your brain works. It rewires your sense of safety and self-worth.
I lived that reality. For years.
During my marriage to my abusive ex-husband, I wasn’t just emotionally broken, I was physically sick. My body kept the score long before I had the words for what was happening. I had high blood pressure, insomnia, chronic anxiety, heart palpitations, chest pain, and I was sick all the time. I gained weight and diarrhea became a daily thing. I tried to become more agreeable, and started dissociating and fawning to cope.
I’d feel panic rise in my chest the moment I heard the door open. I never knew which version of him was coming home. I’d start scanning his body language, the tone in his voice, the way he dropped his keys, the scowl on his face, anything that might give me a clue. My nervous system was always in overdrive. It never shut off.
There was even a point that he told me the reason he flirted with other women in front of me was because I wasn’t nice enough to him. Because I didn’t give him enough attention. That moment stuck. Not because it hurt, but because it captured the way he rewrote the story, made me the villain, and made his cruelty feel like my fault.
That’s the thing about emotional abuse. It doesn’t always scream. Sometimes it whispers, gaslights, erodes. Over time, you begin to believe the narrative that you’re the problem. That your pain is your fault.
What Was Happening in My Brain?
It wasn’t just stress, it was neurological warfare. Chronic trauma rewires the brain.
• My amygdala, my fear center, was constantly activated. I was always bracing for impact.
• My hippocampus, which helps us process memory and tell past from present, struggled to keep things straight. I couldn’t tell whether the danger was now or just remembered.
• My prefrontal cortex, responsible for logic and emotional control, went offline. I couldn’t think clearly or regulate my reactions.
• My sense of self, distorted. I felt broken, unworthy, unlovable. Exactly what he wanted me to believe.
And my body followed that script. Cortisol flooded my system. My gut suffered. My immune system weakened. I wasn’t just tired, I was depleted.
My Kids Were Affected Too
This wasn’t just happening to me, it was happening to our kids too.
They struggled in school. They were anxious, withdrawn, always on edge. When he was home, they’d stay in their rooms. We were all tiptoeing around one person’s moods, trying to prevent an explosion that often came anyway. It was like walking through a minefield, blindfolded.
I watched them become quieter, smaller. They shouldn’t have had to be that careful, that early. But in homes like ours, survival becomes a family skillset.
Healing After Escape
Sometime after leaving him, I remarried my now husband who is loving, protective and safe. My body started healing almost immediately.
Today, there’s no more feelings of panic when the door opens. No more chest pain. No more insomnia. I sleep just fine now. No more gut issues. I don’t get sick anymore. Most importantly, I live without fear.
And my kids? They come out of their rooms. They talk, laugh, joke. They hang out in the family room. Their grades improved. Their moods lifted. You can see it in their eyes: they are no longer scanning for danger.
Safety changed everything. Not just emotionally, but physically, mentally, neurologically. That’s the part people don’t talk about enough, how healing doesn’t just feel better, it is better, right down to your biology.
Why This Story Matters
Complex trauma is invisible until it isn’t. Until your body breaks down. Until your mind starts slipping. Until your children stop smiling. What I went through is not rare. It’s just rarely talked about in full. The symptoms I experienced weren’t random, they were my body and brain’s desperate attempt to survive a dangerous environment.
But here’s the truth: we can heal. The body can reset. The brain can rewire.
Connect with me and share your story. I’ll feature it in one of my blogs, so we can highlight the signs of abuse and the challenges we face as a result.
