Complex PTSD (C-PTSD) is a psychological disorder that results from a series of repetitive, traumatic events from which the individual sees little chance for escape. While the DSM-5 (the most-used diagnostic manual for mental disorders) does not yet recognize C-PTSD as distinct from PTSD, there are subtle difference between the two, most importantly in the chronic and/or ongoing nature of traumas associated with C-PTSD. C-PTSD is a relatively new way of conceptualizing a diagnosis that didn’t reflect the magnitude and amount of ways that our senses are assaulted on a daily basis.

Take 9/11. Nearly everyone who was alive and conscious during that time was shaken – we were collectively shaken to our core. It was one major event and we all shared it, whether it was people living in New York City or people living in Alaska. The result was a kind of collective PTSD. Now there’s a mini 9/11 nearly every day. There have been too many traumatic events that continually unfold in the U.S. and throughout the world that make it hard for most people to get through their day without worrying that something bad will happen to them or someone they love. When we find ourselves reeling as we discover yet another crisis has occurred, it’s hard to not feel as if your tank is running dry. So if you’re wondering whether you have C-PTSD, the answer to this question is almost certainly yes. When the last information you receive before going to sleep and the first information you experience upon waking up is being inundated with new trauma, inevitably you’re going to be in some way impacted. This is true even when your world has been insulated and relatively safe.  

With atrocities occurring around us, in some ways C-PTSD has become a collective experience – one where it has become so much easier to feel compassion and connection. However, for many people, the only way to survive all this is to try to remove yourself as much as you humanly can, which may appear callous but it’s because it’s the only way that you can function and get where you need to go and take care of the people that matter to you. In the past, when you’d see your neighbor, you could discuss the events of the day, but they were far away, they were remote, or maybe they were general to the goings-on of your own little world – your neighborhood, your town. But now, when you see your neighbor, there are far too many horrendous, surreal and horrific incidents to ever be able to have a casual chat.

The result is that many people end up making their world smaller – whether it be avoiding the subway, or avoid going to music venues, or alternative clubs, or dance studios, or Walmart, or school. The list goes on. The urge to protect yourself by avoiding places where traumatic events have occurred, or even places similar to those where traumatic events have occurred, results in going into your shell. When your world starts to shrink and you attempt to retreat into your shell and avoid places where you might be more vulnerable, you might then retreat online to look for guidance. But the fact that there’s so much discordant incoming information – opinions and expressions of sympathy and promises to make the world safer or to find ways to end war or gun violence or end the danger of disease – looking online can make C-PTSD less a collective experience and more isolating. The fact that there’s mixed signals as to what the appropriate way to respond to yet another trauma is, for example, indicative of how difficult it is to find your footing.

With disinformation and misinformation flying everywhere it’s hard to know who to believe and what to believe and it’s hard to figure out how to stay safe. It’s not just the people who are killed or severely injured, it’s the people who were able to get away or who witnessed or who responded to these disasters. With enough of these occurrences, it’s all of us. C-PTSD affects everyone.