Self Care

Hacks and Tips

[therapeutic007]

(A vent. A neuroscience lesson. And a workbook that actually helps.)

The Vent (because you deserve to say it out loud)

Let me tell you what PPPD is not.

It is not anxiety masquerading as dizziness. It is not "just" visual sensitivity. It is not something you made up because you're fragile or avoidant or attention-seeking.

This is what it is:

It is waking up every single day feeling like you're walking on a boat that never docks.

It is standing still in a grocery store aisle and feeling the floor tilt sideways — even though you know, cognitively, that it is flat.

It is looking at striped shirts, patterned carpets, busy screens, supermarket shelves — and feeling your brain glitch, your balance waver, your stomach drop.

It is being told by three neurologists, two ENTs, and a physical therapist: "All your tests are normal."

It is the secret, grinding horror of that sentence: "All your tests are normal."

Because you want them to be normal. But you also want something to show up. Something treatable. Something nameable. Something that isn't just you.

It is avoiding the mall. Avoiding the movie theater. Avoiding driving at night. Avoiding scrolling too fast on your phone. Avoiding walking on uneven ground. Avoiding — eventually — leaving the house at all, because the world has become a destabilizing machine.

It is the exhaustion of constantly compensating. Every step is calculated. Every head turn is pre-planned. Every visual field is scanned for threat. Your brain is burning calories just to stand still.

PPPD is not rare. It is not imaginary. And it is not permanent.

The Science (what is actually happening in your brain)

PPPD is a functional dizziness disorder — meaning the hardware (inner ear, visual system, proprioceptive system) is intact, but the software (how your brain integrates those signals) has been corrupted.

It almost always begins after an acute vestibular event (vestibular neuritis, labyrinthitis, BPPV, a concussion, or even a severe anxiety attack with dizziness). That initial event triggers a threat response: your brain flags "dizziness" and "unstable vision" as dangerous.

Normally, after the acute event resolves, your brain recalibrates. It learns that the dizziness was temporary, and it stops over-responding to normal sensory fluctuations.

But in PPPD, the recalibration fails. Your brain remains in high-alert mode, continuously monitoring:

Vestibular input (inner ear balance signals)

Visual input (especially complex patterns, moving scenes, or busy environments)

Proprioceptive input (body position and movement)

These three systems become hypervigilant and poorly integrated. The result:

Persistent dizziness (non-spinning vertigo — rocking, swaying, floating, or pulling sensations)

Visual hypersensitivity (intolerance to busy patterns, screens, crowds, or rapid movement)

Postural instability (worse when standing or walking, especially in complex environments)

Anxiety and avoidance (which makes everything worse)

Key fact: PPPD is not a psychiatric disorder, but it lives at the intersection of neurology and psychology. The dizziness is real. The brain's processing is real. And the treatment is vestibular rehabilitation — a form of physical therapy for your brain's sensory integration systems.

The Vicious Cycle (the one you're trapped in)

Let me draw the loop you know too well:

Acute trigger (vestibular event, panic attack, concussion)

Brain flags dizziness as dangerous

Hypervigilance (you constantly monitor your balance and vision)

Sensory confusion intensifies (normal fluctuations feel catastrophic)

Avoidance (you stop going into busy environments, stop moving quickly, stop trusting your body)

Brain never learns that it's safe

Symptoms become persistent → back to step 2

This is not a moral failing. This is maladaptive neuroplasticity — your brain learned a protective response, applied it too broadly, and never unlearned it.

The good news: neuroplasticity works in both directions. You can teach your brain a new response.

The Way Out (what the research actually says)

The gold-standard treatment for PPPD is vestibular rehabilitation therapy (VRT) combined with cognitive-behavioral therapy (CBT) and visual desensitization.

The mechanism is sensory recalibration:

Habituation: Repeated exposure to provocative movements or visual stimuli, without safety behaviors, until the brain stops over-responding.

Gaze stabilization: Exercises that retrain the vestibulo-ocular reflex (VOR) — the connection between your inner ear and your eyes.

Balance retraining: Standing, walking, and moving on compliant surfaces to restore postural confidence.

Visual desensitization: Graded exposure to complex patterns, busy scenes, and moving images.

Cognitive restructuring: Challenging catastrophic beliefs ("if I feel dizzy, I will fall, faint, or lose control" — which almost never happens).

Outcomes: Studies show that vestibular rehabilitation with CBT and visual exposure reduces PPPD symptoms by 50-80% in most patients, with significant improvements maintained at 6-12 months. Some patients achieve full remission.

This is not a guess. This is the literature.

What Does NOT Work (and why it's not your fault)

Lying still. Immobility teaches your brain that movement is dangerous. The opposite of what you need.

Restricting vision. Avoiding patterns, screens, or busy scenes feels protective. It reinforces the hypersensitivity.

Seeking constant reassurance. Asking "am I okay?" fifty times a day is a compulsion. It never satisfies.

Wait-and-see. PPPD rarely resolves on its own without active rehabilitation. The longer the loop runs, the deeper it gets.

Vestibular suppressants (meclizine, benzodiazepines). These can reduce symptoms temporarily but prevent the brain from habituating. They are not a long-term solution.

This Workbook (the one that finally makes sense)

PPPD Recovery Workbook: A Home-Based Vestibular Rehabilitation Plan for Overcoming Persistent Postural-Perceptual Dizziness by Conti Donno

This is not a dense medical textbook. It is not a one-size-fits-all pamphlet. It is a workbook — meaning you write in it, you track your symptoms, you build your own exposure ladder, you log your exercises, you measure your progress in numbers your brain cannot gaslight you out of.

What it contains (based on the structure of evidence-based vestibular rehab protocols):

Psychoeducation on PPPD — what it is, what it isn't, why it persists

Self-assessment tools to establish a baseline (so you can see real progress)

A home-based vestibular exercise program with graded difficulty levels

Gaze stabilization exercises for the VOR

Balance and postural retraining on various surfaces

Visual desensitization ladders (from simple patterns to complex moving scenes)

Cognitive restructuring for dizziness-related catastrophic thoughts

Symptom tracking logs with 0-10 rating scales

Activity planning to rebuild avoided situations

Relapse prevention planning

Reproducible logs for daily practice

Why this workbook works:

Because it asks you to start where you are — not where you should be. Not "walk through a casino floor for an hour." Just "look at a checkerboard pattern for ten seconds." Just "turn your head side to side while sitting down." Just "take three steps with your eyes open."

Small steps. Repeated. Tracked. Without running away.

That is how the brain un-learns fear of movement. That is how the software gets patched.

A Final Word (from someone who has seen it work — or from a therapist who knows)

You are not broken. You are not faking. You are not "just anxious."

You have a brain that learned a protective response after a real threat — and then never got the memo that the threat was over. Your brain is working exactly as it was designed to work: it found a pattern that seemed dangerous, and it is trying to keep you safe.

But it is wrong. Not about the dizziness — the dizziness is real. But about the meaning of the dizziness. It is not a warning of collapse. It is not a prediction of fainting. It is not a sign that you are losing your mind.

It is a sensory processing glitch. And glitches can be patched.

The workbook will not cure you in a week. There will be days when the rocking is worse. There will be setbacks after a stressful event. That is not failure; that is how recovery works — two steps forward, one step back, still moving.

But if you keep practicing — gently, methodically, with data and self-compassion — your brain will learn a new lesson:

"Dizziness is uncomfortable. It is not dangerous. I can move, and the world will not fall apart."

You have already survived every dizzy day you have ever had. That is not fragility. That is evidence of your resilience.

Now use it.

Get the Workbook

PPPD Recovery Workbook: A Home-Based Vestibular Rehabilitation Plan for Overcoming Persistent Postural-Perceptual Dizziness by Conti Donno Click HERE

Use it alone or — ideally — alongside a physical therapist trained in vestibular rehabilitation, a neuro-optometrist, or a psychologist who understands functional dizziness. But use it.

The first step is the hardest. The second is easier. The hundredth is almost boring.

And boring is victory.

[therapeutic007]

The Vomit Phobia Is Not Ridiculous. It's a Neurological Ambush — And It Has a Cure.

(A vent. A science lesson. And a workbook that actually helps.)

The Vent (because you deserve to say it out loud)

Let me tell you what emetophobia is not.

It is not being "a little grossed out" by vomit. It is not disliking stomach bugs. It is not the normal human aversion to something unpleasant.

This is what it is:

It is canceling plans for the fifth time because someone at work mentioned their kid had a stomach virus two towns over.

It is scanning every menu for "undercooked" dangers, then losing your appetite anyway.

It is lying awake at 2 AM, negotiating with your own stomach: "That was just gas. That was just anxiety. That was just — oh God, was that a real nausea?"

It is avoiding pregnancy, avoiding alcohol, avoiding amusement parks, avoiding public transportation, avoiding restaurants, avoiding hospitals, avoiding people — because any of them could be the one.

It is carrying mints, ginger candies, antacids, a bottle of water, and a plastic bag just in case — every single day, every single pocket, every single purse.

It is asking your partner, "Do you feel okay?" thirty-seven times in one evening.

It is Googling "stomach bug going around" at 3 AM, even though you know it will make everything worse.

It is the shame. The secret shame of knowing that your fear sounds absurd to everyone else — and yet it runs your entire life.

Emetophobia is not a quirk. It is not a personality flaw. It is not you being dramatic.

It is a specific phobia. It lives in your amygdala. It has hijacked your threat-detection system. And it is treatable — not by "just getting over it," but by science.

The Science (what's actually happening in your brain)

Let me explain why you cannot "think your way out" of this.

Your brain has a threat-detection circuit centered on the amygdala. When it perceives danger, it initiates the fight-or-flight response — heart rate up, breathing changes, muscles tense, attention narrows. This is useful if you're facing a predator. Less useful if you're facing a memory of a stomach bug from 1998.

In emetophobia, the amygdala has learned to treat interoceptive sensations (normal digestive feelings, mild nausea, stomach gurgles) as catastrophic threats. This is a form of fear conditioning — often following a single traumatic vomiting experience, or chronic early-life illness, or even vicarious learning (watching someone else be very sick).

Once conditioned, the brain engages in:

Hypervigilance: constant scanning of bodily sensations

Catastrophic misinterpretation: "stomach gurgle = impending vomit"

Safety behaviors: checking, avoiding, carrying anti-nausea medication

Reassurance-seeking: asking others "do I look sick?"

These behaviors provide short-term relief but long-term reinforcement. Every time you avoid a situation or perform a safety behavior, you send your amygdala a message: "That thing was dangerous. The only reason you survived is because you avoided it."

The result: the fear grows stronger. Your world shrinks. Your brain becomes more sensitive to threat cues. The cycle tightens.

The Way Out (what the research actually says)

The gold-standard treatment for specific phobias — including emetophobia — is exposure and response prevention (ERP) , a form of cognitive-behavioral therapy (CBT).

The mechanism is extinction learning:

You voluntarily approach a feared stimulus (starting very small — a word, a drawing, a sound)

You stay in the situation without performing safety behaviors

Your anxiety rises, peaks, and then naturally declines (the human body cannot maintain panic indefinitely)

Your brain learns a new association: this thing is uncomfortable, but not dangerous

With repetition, the amygdala recalibrates. The fear response weakens. The world expands.

This is not "torture." This is graded, systematic, self-paced exposure — often starting with things that feel silly (saying the word "vomit" out loud, looking at a cartoon drawing) and gradually moving toward more difficult stimuli (watching video, eating a previously avoided food, being near someone who is ill).

ERP has a success rate of approximately 60-90% for specific phobias when delivered competently. That is not a guess. That is the literature.

What Does NOT Work (and why it's not your fault)

Avoidance. It feels good in the moment. It makes the fear worse over time.

Reassurance. Asking "will I be okay?" fifty times a day is a compulsion. It never satisfies.

Checking your body. That "scanning" sensation is not monitoring — it's fueling the fire.

Medication alone. Medications can reduce anxiety symptoms, but they do not teach the brain a new learning curve. ERP is the learning.

"Just ignoring it." You cannot ignore a system that is screaming. You have to retrain it.

This Workbook (the one that finally made sense)

Emetophobia Workbook: CBT, ERP and Behavioral Activation Worksheets for Overcoming Fear of Vomiting by Darno Jemina

This is not a dense textbook. It is not a 300-page theory dissertation. It is a workbook — meaning you write in it, you track your exposures, you log your anxiety ratings, you build your fear ladder with your own hands.

What it contains (based on the structure of similar evidence-based workbooks):

Psychoeducation on emetophobia and the anxiety cycle

Self-assessment tools to track your baseline (and measure real progress)

Worksheets for identifying avoidance and safety behaviors

Graded exposure ladders (from "saying the word" to "watching video" to "eating a triggering food")

Interoceptive exposure exercises (sensations that mimic nausea — without actual vomiting)

Cognitive restructuring for catastrophic thoughts ("I will lose control" → "I have never lost control")

Behavioral activation to rebuild activities your phobia stole

Relapse prevention planning

Reproducible logs for daily practice (20+ copies of each worksheet)

Why this workbook works:

Because it asks you to do the smallest possible thing first. Not "stand in an emergency room." Not "watch someone vomit." Just write the word. Just say it out loud. Just look at a drawing for ten seconds.

Small steps. Repeated. Tracked. Without safety behaviors.

That is how the brain un-learns fear.

A Final Word (from one emetophobe to another — or from a therapist who has seen it work)

You are not crazy. You are not weak. You have a brain that learned a lesson too well — that vomit is an existential threat. And your brain, for all its alarm bells, is trying to protect you.

But that alarm is calibrated wrong. It is a fire alarm going off because someone burned toast.

You can recalibrate it. Not by fighting it. Not by berating yourself. But by small, repeated, uncomfortable, doable steps — toward the thing you fear — without running away.

The workbook will not cure you in a weekend. There will be hard days. There will be setbacks. That is not failure; that is the shape of learning.

But if you keep approaching — gently, methodically, with data and self-compassion — the fear will shrink. Not to zero, perhaps. But to a size you can carry. To a size that does not cancel your plans.

You have already survived every single panic attack you have ever had. That is not weakness. That is evidence.

Now use it.

Get the Workbook

Emetophobia Workbook: CBT, ERP and Behavioral Activation Worksheets for Overcoming Fear of Vomiting by Darno Jemina Available on Amazon (ASIN: B0H4CDZWV4)

Use it alone or — ideally — alongside a therapist trained in ERP. But use it. The first step is the hardest. The second is easier. The hundredth is almost boring.

And boring is victory.

[therapeutic007]

Nobody talks enough about the grief of Functional Neurological Disorder.

The grief of losing trust in a body that once felt automatic.

The grief of waking up every morning wondering what symptoms will show up today.

The grief of explaining, over and over again, that the symptoms are real.

Not imagined. Not exaggerated. Not a choice.

Just real.

FND can steal certainty from the simplest parts of life. Walking across a room. Holding a conversation. Making plans. Feeling confident that tomorrow will look like today.

And perhaps the hardest part?

Watching people search for visible evidence of an invisible struggle.

Many people living with FND spend years feeling misunderstood—not only by others, but sometimes by their own bodies.

Yet recovery stories exist.

Not because symptoms were "all in their head."

But because the brain is capable of change.

Because new patterns can be learned.

Because nervous systems can become less trapped in cycles of fear, hypervigilance, and symptom amplification.

Because understanding creates possibility.

For anyone navigating Functional Neurological Disorder and looking for practical tools, education, and structured CBT-based exercises, this workbook is worth exploring:

FND Workbook: Evidence‑Based Psychotherapeutic Techniques for Overcoming Functional Neurological Disorder by Jeri Santana

A resource designed to help readers better understand symptom patterns, reduce symptom-related anxiety, build coping skills, and develop a more compassionate relationship with recovery.

Progress may not always be linear.

But every moment of understanding is a step forward.

Every small victory matters.

And every person living with FND deserves hope grounded in knowledge rather than fear.

[therapeutic007]

so you found the alexithymia workbook by dario matt. here's how to actually use it.

for anyone who just got this book and stared at the first page feeling absolutely nothing about their feelings — welcome. you're in the right place.

first, what even is this book?

Alexithymia Workbook: Overcoming Emotional Blindness Through Psychodynamic and Cognitive Behavioral Therapy by Dario Matt is a 105-page therapeutic workbook packed with daily exercises and techniques to help adults overcome emotional blindness. it draws from two frameworks: CBT (cognitive behavioral therapy) and psychodynamic psychotherapy — which basically means it works on both your surface-level thought patterns and the deeper unconscious stuff underneath.

how to use it without burning out:

🧠 don't try to read it like a novel this is a workbook. pick it up, do one exercise, close it. that's enough. you don't have to understand your entire emotional history in a weekend.

📓 keep a journal alongside it write down situations or experiences when you notice your feelings. by labeling your emotions, you can assess what you're experiencing — both physically and emotionally. take time each day to write about your experience. even if you write "something felt off today and i don't know what" — that counts. that's literally the work.

🫀 pay attention to your body first alexithymia often means the body knows before the brain does. the workbook's approach is to catch physical sensations — tension, heaviness, heat — and work backwards toward naming an emotion. don't skip this step even if it feels weird.

🔁 repetition is the point the workbook provides practical strategies and techniques to help you better understand your emotional experiences and the unconscious conflicts that may be hindering your ability to express and deal with feelings in a healthy way. that takes time and reps. if an exercise feels useless the first time, try it three more times before deciding it's not for you.

🤝 use it alongside therapy if you can this workbook is a tool, not a replacement for support. if you have a therapist, bring it to sessions. if you don't, online communities (like right here on tumblr) can be a safe place to process what comes up.

a note for the frustrated: if you open this and think "this doesn't get it" — you might be right in some places, and that's okay. use what helps. skip what doesn't. alexithymia looks different for everyone, and no single workbook will be a perfect fit. the goal isn't completion. the goal is one more tiny thread of connection between you and your inner life.

you're already doing something hard just by picking it up. that matters.

[therapeutic007]

It’s not just sadness. Sadness, at least, has a texture. It has weight. This is something else. This is the hollowing out of feeling itself.

It’s looking at a sunset you know is beautiful and feeling… nothing. It’s hearing a song that used to make your heart swell and it’s just… noise. It’s the memory of joy, the intellectual knowledge of it, but the complete inability to access it. The world has been muted, the color drained, the flavor gone.

This is anhedonia. The soul-deep inability to feel pleasure.

It’s the cruelest trick the mind can play. The things that once offered solace—a good meal, a friend's laugh, a favorite hobby—now feel like empty, meaningless tasks. The brain's reward system has gone offline. The "wanting" and "liking" circuits are broken.

You force yourself to go through the motions, a ghost in your own life.

You feel guilty for not enjoying what you "should."

You withdraw because pretending to feel is more exhausting than feeling nothing at all.

It’s a profound loneliness, even when you're not alone. You are trapped behind a glass wall, watching life happen without you.

What if you could reboot the system?

Anhedonia isn't a personal failing; it's a neurobiological problem. And while it's one of the most challenging symptoms to overcome, it is not a life sentence. The path out isn't about "trying to be happy." It's about retraining the brain's reward pathways through targeted, evidence-based strategies, primarily rooted in Cognitive Behavioral Therapy (CBT) and Behavioral Activation.

This is the game-changer. It’s not a quick fix, but a systematic rewiring.

CBT for Anhedonia: This isn't just about challenging negative thoughts. It's about identifying the specific cognitive traps that maintain the void: the "What's the point?" thoughts, the predictive pessimism ("I won't enjoy it, so why go?"), and the emotional reasoning ("If I don't feel it, it isn't real"). CBT helps break this cycle of anticipatory apathy.

Behavioral Activation (BA) as ERP for Motivation: Think of this as "Exposure and Response Prevention" for your reward system. The "exposure" is to systematically and gradually engage in potentially rewarding activities. The "response prevention" is to not give in to the urge to withdraw or dismiss the activity as pointless before you even try it.

The goal isn't to feel immediate, overwhelming joy. That's setting the bar too high. The goal is to simply engage, and to notice any subtle shift—even just a slight decrease in tension, or a fleeting moment of engagement. These are the first signals that the system is coming back online.

It’s a painstaking process of laying down new neural pathways, one small, deliberate action at a time. You are gathering tiny sparks, hoping to eventually build a fire.

For anyone lost in this gray, a structured guide is invaluable. A resource like The Anhedonia Workbook can provide this essential step-by-step framework, offering practical exercises for Behavioral Activation and cognitive strategies tailored specifically to this struggle.

Recovery from anhedonia isn't about a sudden return to vibrant color. It's about noticing the first faint hue returning to a grayscale world. It starts with the bravest act of all: acting as if your efforts matter, even when you feel nothing, trusting that the feeling will eventually follow the action.

[therapeutic007]

It’s a special kind of tired. The tired that comes from the constant, silent calculus happening in your head before every single social interaction.

Do I say hello? What if they don't hear me? What if they do and they realize how awkward I am?

They didn't get an invite. It's because they are unlikeable. Of course they are. They're boring/weird/too much.

That event is impossible. The thought of walking into a room full of people causes physical sickness. It's easier to just say they're busy.

This isn't just shyness. This is Avoidant Personality Disorder (AvPD). It's a prison built by the mind, with walls made of shame, inadequacy, and a hyper-vigilant fear of rejection that is absolutely exhausting. The brain treats every social cue as a potential threat, and every minor criticism as a confirmation of the deepest, darkest secret: "I am fundamentally defective."

The default is to retreat. To avoid. To choose the certain pain of loneliness over the terrifying risk of connection. It feels safer that way. But it’s a trap. The walls of the prison get higher and thicker, and the world outside gets smaller and smaller.

What if the key to the prison was already in your hand?

The problem isn't a defective personality. The problem is a well-worn, malfunctioning mental blueprint. And blueprints can be redrawn. This is where Cognitive Behavioral Therapy (CBT) and Exposure and Response Prevention (ERP) come in—and they can be a complete game-changer.

It’s not about becoming an extrovert. It’s about retraining your brain.

CBT is the mental toolkit. It helps you identify those automatic, crushing thoughts ("I'm going to embarrass myself") and challenge their validity. You learn to separate the anxious story your brain is telling from objective reality.

ERP is the practical training ground. It’s not about being thrown into the deep end. It’s about taking small, manageable, and gradual steps toward the situations you fear (like saying "hi" to a cashier, or making a brief phone call), and crucially, preventing the avoidance response. Each small success rewires the brain's fear circuit, teaching it that you can handle discomfort and that rejection isn't a foregone conclusion.

Together, they form a powerful alliance: CBT rewires the thoughts, and ERP rewires the behavioral response. It breaks the cycle of thought -> fear -> avoidance -> temporary relief -> reinforced fear.

For anyone ready to start redrawing that blueprint, a fantastic and practical resource is The AvPD Workbook: Overcoming Avoidant Personality Disorder . It provides a structured, self-paced guide to applying these exact principles.

This isn't about a magical cure. It's about building evidence, brick by brick, against the lies of anxiety. It's about trading the silent prison for a world with open doors. The first step is the bravest: believing that change is possible.

[therapeutic007]

A Superb Therapeutic PLAN for AVPD

[therapeutic007]

A Superb and Must Have Workbook for D.I.D System

A Superb and Must Have Workbook for D.I.D System

[therapeutic007]

For me this is the best workbook for Overcoming rejection sensitive dysphorya

[therapeutic007]

This isn’t just another self-help book — it's a kind and courageous companion for anyone caught in the grip of dermatillomania (skin-picking). The Dermatillomania Workbook: Cognitive Behavioral Therapy and Habit Reversal Techniques for Overcoming Skin Picking is a gentle, skill-building guide designed to help you finally feel like the hero of your own story

Why it matters: Outside this workbook—if life were a city—habit reversal training (HRT) would be the secret alley that leads you out of the maze. It’s a proven, evidence-backed method that teaches you how to…

Notice the urge before it becomes a habit (awareness training)

Swap skin-picking for something kinder (competing responses)

Accept support, not shame (social reinforcement and self-kindness)

Imagine: Instead of frustration or guilt, you reach for a smooth stone, soft fidget toy, or learn to breathe your way through urges. These small shifts begin to reroute your brain—like carving a new, kinder path through your mind. Over time, that old habitual route fades.

Here’s what makes this workbook a game-changer:

Sized to hold with shaky, anxious hands

Full of bite-sized worksheets, prompts, and gentle reflection

Crafted for real life—not clinical jargon or brush-offs

[therapeutic007]

So apparently James Marion Sims is called the “Father of Gynecology.” Cool. Love that for him. 🙃

Meanwhile Anarcha, Lucy, and Betsey went through dozens of experimental surgeries without anesthesia and somehow they’re not in medical textbooks—except as footnotes.

Imagine being literally the mothers of gynecology but the man who tortured you gets the parental title. Like… “Congratulations, sir, on your newborn invention. Don’t mind the Black women who actually did all the labor.”

Medical racism didn’t start with doctors ignoring Black women’s pain in 2023—it’s been the default setting since the 1800s.

But sure, let’s keep pretending bias in healthcare is just a “modern oversight.” 🙄

______

A Superb Decorative Tool

[therapeutic007]

🌊 Alexithymia: When Feelings Have No Words 🌊

Imagine having a storm inside you—waves crashing, winds howling—yet when someone asks, “What’s wrong?” you can only shrug. That’s what alexithymia can feel like.

It’s not the absence of emotions. In fact, people with alexithymia often feel deeply—sometimes overwhelmingly. The challenge lies in identifying, describing, and sharing those emotions. It’s like trying to tune into a radio station that keeps fading in and out: you catch a fragment of music, but the lyrics never quite come through.

✨ Common experiences of alexithymia

Struggling to tell the difference between sadness, frustration, or anger.

Physical sensations (tight chest, stomach knots, headaches) that are actually emotions wearing disguises.

Difficulty opening up in relationships—not because of apathy, but because words for feelings just don’t come easily.

Feeling disconnected from art, music, or therapy exercises that revolve around “naming your feelings.”

🌱 Why it matters: Alexithymia is linked with conditions like autism, depression, trauma, and PTSD, but it can also appear on its own. Understanding it helps reduce shame—because this isn’t a “lack of empathy” or being “cold.” It’s a neurological-linguistic difficulty, not a lack of humanity.

💡 Gentle ways to cope:

Use a feelings wheel or emotion chart as a daily reference.

Track physical sensations alongside situations (“tight chest during arguments → maybe anxiety?”).

Explore creative outlets—drawing, movement, or music—to express what words can’t capture.

Practice patience: building an emotional vocabulary takes time, like learning a new language.

🔗 Alexithymia isn’t about not caring. It’s about living in a world where feelings exist, but the map to describe them is smudged. Compassion—both for yourself and from others—helps redraw that map.

________

Alexithymia Workbook

[therapeutic007]

Alex really wants closeness. They crave deep connection and often imagine what it would be like to feel completely safe with someone. When they start dating Sam, the first few weeks feel amazing—texts all the time, late-night talks, and the comfort of knowing someone cares.

But then something shifts.

One day, Sam doesn’t reply for several hours. Alex’s stomach drops. Thoughts spiral: “They’re losing interest… I knew this was too good to last.” At the same time, Alex feels anger bubbling up: “If they cared, they wouldn’t leave me hanging like this.”

When Sam finally replies warmly, Alex hesitates to show how much they missed them. Instead, they pull back: short replies, a hint of coldness. Inside, Alex is desperate for reassurance but terrified of looking “too needy.”

Later, when Sam asks if something’s wrong, Alex blurts out, “I don’t know if this is working.” What they really mean is: “I’m scared you’ll leave me, so I’ll push you away first.”

The cycle repeats—wanting love, fearing rejection, and retreating just when closeness is possible.

______

The Solution Here !

[therapeutic007]

✨🧠 NAC + B12 for OCD? A Promising Support Protocol 🧠✨

Obsessive–Compulsive Disorder isn’t just about “liking things neat.” It’s a disorder that hijacks thought loops, spikes anxiety, and convinces the brain that the only way to feel safe is through endless rituals.

Researchers have been looking beyond traditional treatments and found two fascinating players:

🔹 NAC (N-Acetylcysteine) – An antioxidant that also modulates glutamate, a neurotransmitter heavily linked to OCD. Several studies suggest NAC may help reduce obsessive urges and compulsive behaviors by calming glutamate dysregulation in the brain.

🔹 Vitamin B12 – Often overlooked, but B12 plays a critical role in methylation, nervous system health, and serotonin regulation. Low B12 levels have been connected to higher anxiety, intrusive thoughts, and depressive symptoms—all common companions of OCD.

💡 Why together? Think of NAC as helping regulate the brain’s “overdrive switch” (glutamate), while B12 supports overall neurochemical balance and energy for recovery. Together, they can complement therapy and other supports.

✨ A gentle protocol people explore (always under medical guidance):

NAC: often studied in the range of 1,200–3,000 mg/day, split into doses

B12: through diet, sublinguals, or injections if deficient

⚠️ This isn’t a magic cure. OCD recovery still centers around ERP therapy, CBT, and sometimes medication. But NAC + B12 might provide an extra layer of support for calming the mind and strengthening resilience.

🌿 Healing OCD is like rewiring a garden—sometimes you need therapy to pull the weeds, but giving the soil nutrients (like NAC and B12) helps the healthy growth take root.

________

A Superb Therapeutic Workbook

[therapeutic007]

Hello Folks

The AEDP Workbook by Dario Jeyco is Available on Amazon Now !

_________ Good Luck for Therapists, Clinicians, Psych Phd Studends .

[therapeutic007]

To the sailors on steady ground,

This is for anyone who knows the world through a funhouse mirror. Who feels the floor lurch like the deck of a ship in a storm, even while lying perfectly still in a silent, dark room. Who has learned to calculate the cost of every head turn, every grocery aisle, every flickering screen.

This is for the residents of the Tilt-A-Whirl that never stops.

Whether it's the thunder of a Vestibular Migraine, the persistent rocking of PPPD (Persistent Postural-Perceptual Dizziness), the surreal, motion-sickness-of-the-soul that is MDDS (Mal de Débarquement Syndrome), or the brief, terrifying spins of BPPV (Benign Paroxysmal Positional Vertigo)—you are not alone in the disorientation.

Your condition is invisible, which makes it isolating. People say "you look fine," not understanding that inside, you're clinging to the rails. It's not "just dizziness." It's a fundamental disruption of your reality.

The goal isn't to magically stop the spinning. It's to learn how to stand firm in the whirlwind. It's to recalibrate your internal compass.

A Navigator's Guide to a Steadier World:

Charting the Triggers: Is it a storm front? Stress? Certain lights, sounds, or patterns? We must become detectives of our own dysfunction, mapping what causes the seismic shifts in our stability.

Retraining the Brain (Neuroplasticity is Key): Conditions like PPPD and VM are often rooted in a maladaptive reaction to a initial vertigo event. We can use targeted exercises (like VRT) to teach our brain to correctly interpret signals again.

Building the Stabilizers: Strengthening the connection between your brain, your inner ears, and your eyes. This is the holy trinity of balance, and we can work to fortify it.

Finding Calm in the Storm: Learning anxiety-reduction techniques is not optional; it's critical. The fear of an attack fuels the very nervous system dysfunction that can trigger one. It's a vicious cycle we must break.

This journey requires a specific kind of map—one that understands the intricate wiring of the vestibular system and the anxiety that tangles it further.

A resource that acts as exactly that has been created: The Vestibular Disorders Workbook.

The Navigation Tool (The Link): https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0F3D95QDW

Think of it as a field manual for your broken compass. It’s not a cure, but a comprehensive guide packed with:

Education to demystify what's happening in your body.

Structured Vestibular Rehabilitation Therapy (VRT) exercises to perform at home.

Guidance for lifestyle modifications (the "vestibular herbal world ).

Cognitive Behavioral Therapy (CBT) techniques to manage the health anxiety and anticipatory fear that are hallmarks of these conditions.

Tracking tools to identify your personal triggers and patterns.

This is for anyone who is tired of being a passenger in their own wobbling body and is ready to take a proactive, if gentle, step toward taking the helm.

To my fellow wobblers and rockers: What is one small, "normal" thing you miss the most? (e.g., "Reading in a moving car," "Quickly looking up at a bird," "Walking through a busy store without holding the wall"). Let's acknowledge those losses together. You are seen here.

The world may tilt, but you don't have to face it without a map.

[therapeutic007]

A message, left in a common, safe space for all to find:

To the Councils, the Gatekeepers, the Protectors, the Littles, the Exiles, and every part in between,

For those who navigate the world as a "we" in a body that the world sees as a "me," the journey is profound. It's woven with challenges that are often invisible to others: the amnesic barriers, the internal negotiations, the search for cooperation amidst the chaos left by past storms.

This isn't about becoming something you're not. It's not about "fusion or bust." It's about building a harmonious system. It's about moving from survival into healing. The goal is understanding, communication, and reducing the distress for every part of the whole.

This path requires a special kind of map—one that honors every voice, every memory, and every role within.

An Invitation to Collaborative Exploration:

Charting the Internal Landscape: Gently and safely getting to know the parts of your system, their roles, and their burdens.

Building a Council of Communication: Creating internal channels for dialogue, cooperation, and conflict resolution. Fostering trust between parts who may have been at odds.

Developing System-Wide Safety: Establishing boundaries and coping skills that work for the entire system, not just one part at a time.

Processing with Care: Finding ways to approach traumatic material that respects the system's pace and protects all members from being overwhelmed.

This is delicate, sacred work. It requires patience, immense courage, and often, a professional guide. But having tools designed specifically for systems can make this internal exploration feel less daunting.

A resource has been created for this exact purpose: The Dissociative Identity Disorder Workbook. Think of it less as a manual with strict rules and more as a guided journal for your entire system. It's a structured space to facilitate understanding, document communication, and practice skills tailored to the complex, beautiful reality of being multiple.

The workbook (The Link): https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0BVD7DBR2

It's filled with prompts and exercises designed to:

Improve internal communication and co-consciousness.

Help parts feel heard, understood, and valued.

Develop system-wide coping strategies for daily life and triggers.

Navigate the path toward functional multiplicity and/or healing trauma.

This is for any system looking for a structured, gentle way to facilitate their own healing journey, alongside the crucial support of a qualified therapist.

If it feels safe and right for your system, we invite you to share in the comments: What is one small sign of progress or cooperation within your system that you're grateful for today? (e.g., "Co-consciousness during a morning routine," "A protector agreeing to stand down," "Finding a drawing a little left behind").

Your journey is unique. Your system is your own. May you find the tools that help you build a peaceful inner world.