I believe many readers are familiar with the term PTSD – the classic movie storyline often portrays a war veteran struggling with flashbacks from their time in combat. While this depiction accurately represents PTSD, it does not fully capture the nature of Complex PTSD (C-PTSD).

PTSD typically develops after a single traumatic event or a clearly defined period of trauma, such as wartime experiences. In contrast, C-PTSD arises from prolonged or repeated exposure to trauma. For instance, PTSD symptoms following a car accident do not fall under C-PTSD because they stem from a single moment in time. Similarly, PTSD resulting from a criminal act, though just as severe in its suffering, is classified as standard PTSD rather than C-PTSD.

So, what exactly is C-PTSD and is it important to distinguish between the two?

Examples of C-PTSD include developing PTSD-like symptoms following prolonged trauma, such as childhood abuse or neglect. In his book Complex PTSD: From Surviving to Thriving, Pete Walker states, “C-PTSD is a more severe form of Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder.” However, I argue that while C-PTSD is distinct from classic PTSD, its severity is subjective and varies from person to person. The same is true for PTSD.

According to Walker, common symptoms of C-PTSD include emotional flashbacks, toxic shame, self-abandonment, a vicious inner critic, and social anxiety. Personally, I experienced emotional flashbacks, toxic shame and an inner critic – symptoms that developed after years of childhood emotional neglect combined with sexual abuse.

The distinction between C-PTSD and PTSD is important because they stem from different types of trauma. In PTSD, the traumatic event has a clear beginning and end, whereas in C-PTSD, the trauma is ongoing – often lasting for years.This prolonged exposure to trauma affects the brain differently, potentially leading to emotional flashbacks. As a result, treatment approaches must be tailored to address these unique effects, even though there may be overlaps in therapeutic methods of classic PTSD.

Emotional flashbacks

Pete Walker, p. 3:

“Emotional flashbacks are sudden and often prolonged regressions to the overwhelming feeling-states of being an abused/abandoned child. These feeling states can include overwhelming fear, shame, alienation, rage, grief and depression”

“Emotional flashbacks are perhaps the most noticeable and characteristic feature of Cptsd. Survivors of traumatizing abandonment are extremely susceptible to emotional flashbacks, which unlike Ptsd do not typically have a visual component.”

Indeed, unlike traditional flashbacks, emotional flashbacks do not involve vivid visual memories. This can make them difficult to recognize – how can someone have a flashback without re-experiencing specific events?

Because prolonged trauma, especially without a clear end, alters brain wiring, the body continues to trigger fight, flight, or freeze responses as if the trauma were still happening. As a result, even long after the traumatic years, individuals may react to present-day relational conflicts as though they were still trapped in their past experiences. To outsiders, this may seem like an overreaction to minor incidents or even toxic behavior. However, internally, the person is reliving a deeply ingrained survival response – one that once helped them endure trauma but now surfaces in everyday interactions.

Remembering Christmas 2023

Bang.

The newly bought glass Christmas ornament slips from my fingers, crashes to the floor and shatters into a thousand glittering shards. My body stiffens. I hold my breath, staring at the mess. It’s as if I can still feel the smooth glass in my hands – except it’s gone.

From his seat, my partner sighs. “Why on earth did you buy glass ornaments instead of plastic ones?”

I can’t exhale. I can’t move. My mind goes blank as a familiar wave of shame and fear washes over me. I try to respond, but nothing comes out – I’m frozen.

He’s seen this reaction before. He knows something is wrong, but he doesn’t understand what’s happening inside me. Neither do I. Not in this moment. Not yet.

Hours later, when the tension has faded, the realization will hit: it was an emotional flashback. Just like so many others before. The sudden, overwhelming rage at a minor comment. The crushing silence when faced with criticism. The instinct to fight or freeze. And sometimes, I don’t do either. Sometimes, I run. I lock myself in a room, retreating from a world that feels far too dangerous – just like I used to when I was a minor.

As a child, I learned that being invisible was the safest way to exist. Emotional neglect taught me that the less I was seen, the less I was criticized. Silence was survival. But I didn’t just learn that invisibility kept me safe – I learned that when faced with conflict, freezing was my best defense. Whenever I cried or showed emotion, my parents would punish me by locking me in the basement. Over time, I realized that if I stayed silent – if I swallowed my tears, froze my emotions and made myself disappear – they would eventually let me out. I remember the exact moment I figured it out. A thought formed in my young mind, clear as day: “Now I am tamed, like a lion in a cage.” Shame burned through me, replacing the sadness that should have been met with care.

So when my partner sighed after I dropped the glass ornament, my brain registered it as a warning. Something painful was coming – I didn’t know what, but I had learned long ago that sighs, disappointment and disapproval often led to humiliation. My body reacted before I could think: I shut down. I made myself as small, as invisible as possible.

I froze.

Because in my world, freezing made the pain stop. Freezing meant surviving.

Even today, I still freeze, fight, or, to a lesser extent, flee in response to seemingly ordinary social interactions that feel overwhelming. In the end, understanding the roots of my reactions – those emotional flashbacks, the freezing, the fighting, and the occasional retreat – has been a journey in itself. Healing isn’t about erasing the past; it’s about learning how to navigate through it. It’s about recognizing that these survival mechanisms once kept me safe, but they no longer serve me in the same way they once did.

However, healing is not just an individual endeavor; it also deeply depends on the environment around us. When the people closest to us – whether family, friends or partners – can recognize emotional flashbacks, they play a critical role in our healing process. Trauma is complex and difficult to explain, but when others are aware and empathetic, they can create a safe space, offering support rather than judgment.

By acknowledging the complexity of trauma and how it shapes our reactions, I’m slowly giving myself permission to break free from old patterns. I hope this post has illuminated the reality of emotional flashbacks, not just for those who suffer from them but also for those in a position to support others. Recognizing these signs can be the first step in helping someone else break free from seemingly ‘toxic behaviors’ or responses to minor incidents – and that understanding is a powerful tool in the journey toward healing.