CPTSD cold case

  (It is now May 26th, 2027, at 11:29 p.m., and I am returning to finish this task. During this time away, I slept a great deal, and my kiddos stopped by often. They also took me to Aldi’s and Walmart, which I enjoyed.   Once again, all my food storage is full and now everyone has gone back to work.   I do have imagery in my mind and it’s just one that repeats continually and has not birthed another scene which means I will now have to delve into it and see how it develops over time.   I made sure to eat and drink so that I can stay focused longer.   I am having disbelief that this sequence has been built into what I am journaling now.   The act of completing this writing should have concluded so many times but the next image connects to something written here that I just included.   If this could be wrapped up my stress would be so much lower.)             The image is in the parking lot at Mac ...

  I still believe that I played some role in that murdered girl’s life while she was attending Mac Arthur High School.   It haunts me and I cannot rid myself of its context.   True, many other flashback related materials were exhumed, and I did benefit from their expulsions from the amnesic box and the subsequent release it caused.   I am better for this experience, and this oath was fruitful in unexpected ways.   I have been at this work for 9 hours and I believe the day before I spent 7 hours trying to conclude this non-sequential spectacle of interrelated and episodic themes that ventured into the interchangeability of randomized misnomers.   My brain is a sieve, and my noodles are escaping through the holes LOL.   As always, I shall ponder while I rest and see what develops from the negatives that await processing in the photo lab of my mind.)

  I am remembering now how I would pass out or lie in a dissociative state and Robert didn’t know what to do with me and he would bury me.   I wouldn’t be as deep as the others that he killed but it would be a few feet.   I recall now how he would cry and hold me and try to get me to speak and I was too far gone into the depths of my own mind and then he would reluctantly bury me after a great deal of waiting and holding me.   To me I was trapped in a nether world of fluidity that wouldn’t allow me to take enough of a shape to break free.   Like in the movie Snatch in 2000 where the character played by Brad Pitt, Mickey One Punch O’Neil was knocked into a semi-conscious state and figuratively had to break from the embryonic fluid of a concussed mind to throw a punch at his opponent.   This is how that moment felt for me.   I was trapped behind that symbolic membrane and couldn’t move any part of my body to communicate.   I was in that frozen stupo...

  About Brian "Happy" Bryanson & The CPTSD Cold Case Project Welcome to the central repository for the research, visual tools, and literary works of Brian "Happy" Bryanson . Operating under the digital research handle @cptsdcoldcase , this platform serves as an open-source, permanent archive dedicated to unpacking multi-generational trauma, severe childhood abuse, and Complex Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (CPTSD). Through the combination of forensic-style psychological frameworks, autobiographical literature, and visual mapping, my mission is to provide survivors and clinicians with concrete tools to unfreeze the brain, break through deep dissociation, and solve the historical "cold cases" of their own lives. My Background & Foundation I operate out of the Dallas-Fort Worth metroplex in Texas. Over my professional career, I have specialized in addiction recovery, advanced trauma processing, and the dynamics of family-of-origin systems. My backgrou...

  This daydream is so intense that I had to turn off the TV since I couldn’t watch it.   I continually found that I was staring at the ceiling fan and its turning blades.   I was in a hypnotic state and lost to this reality and my moment of now.   Just now as I am typing, I am listening to music, and I am using it as an anchor to this realm as I am so strongly pulled into my past.   The song Sober from the band Tool is playing and its music video is so indicative of my current pain.   Wow, what a symbiotic tapestry of a serendipitous connection.   I am crying now and have been off and on since I woke up.   My hunger has been tremendous, my kiddos could not come to cook for me, and I felt so poorly that I ordered an extra-large pizza and three 2litters of diet Dr. Pepper.   I ate it all and drank two of those litters and still I am hungry.   This is an old pattern where I would lift extremely heavy enough to make my joints sing and then d...

  My stomach has churned like I am filled with a hot swill of toxic debris, and I have had explosive issues due to this.  My left foot had swollen to a huge circumference and had three shades of red color.  Deep red from the toes up to the ankle bone, then light red almost pink followed by a basic red from above the ankle up to the creased impression from where the band of my sock bound against my leg.  I want to go turn myself into the Emergency Room in Rockwall.  The last Dr. was just awesome, and I want him to put me up for the night in a room.  I want to complete my MRI a colonoscopy and an upper endoscopy.  I also need that blood for the pulmonary doctor.  My aged body is not doing well with these flashbacks.  I marvel at how I am still alive.  I am here now since a part of me deep in the well of my despair where I used to hide as a boy.  Feels as if I defended this girl at some point and my tears had to do with the loss of the...

  Later I am not sure of the time allotment, but I was still exhausted and feeling peeked and Glenda came home wearing dark colors and asked if I had been to the funeral.   My first thought was ‘whose’ funeral, and I racked my brain and no knowledge of a death had come back to me.   I was not feeling good and Glenda was in that weird mood where she was checking in on me and still, I couldn’t muster a remembrance as to what all of this was about.   My greatest fear at that moment was that she had her bible in her hand and it had leaflets in it.   Meaning that something new was being stirred up.   During that era of Christianity there was a huge push for maintaining virginity and then attending fellowship and that would be followed by volunteering at the church.   Along with this they also had these ‘satanic panic’ seminars.   Where someone from outside the church you attended would come to your congregation and fill your head with fear of devils an...