Stuck in Fight or Flight? How Childhood CPTSD Results in Fight, Flight, Freeze, and Fawn

The 4 F's and Childhood CPTSD

​Trauma happens when the stressor we are experiencing overwhelms our mind’s ability to cope.
 
Say you’re walking through the woods and happen to incidentally cross paths with a mother bear and her cubs, and thinking she is protecting her babies from a threat, she begins to chase you through the woods.
 
Your brain and body’s sole purpose is to protect and care for you. Of its own accord, your heart might begin to beat faster, pumping blood to your arms and legs to help you run from the threat (flight response). Your body might stimulate your GI tract to empty your bowels to make you lighter so you can flee the scene easier, or to potentially make you unappealing to predators.
 
Your body might decide it’s best for your preservation to freeze-enabling you to blend into your environment to avoid detection. Your body might opt for a fight response-maybe you make yourself look larger, scream and yell, or pick up a stone to defend yourself. Maybe your body decides fawning is the way to ensure your survival, so you play dead until the bear loses interest and continues on her way.

When animals respond to threats with fight, flight, freeze, or fawn, we understand that this is natural and are less likely to impose our judgement on them.

As humans, we know that animals respond in the wild in these ways to protect themselves. Understanding that our nervous systems are wired in very much the same way can help us approach the healing process with the compassion that we need. 
 
When exposure to trauma is prolonged, however (say that you are forced to live with this bear every day), the nervous system adjusts itself to focus solely on your survival. Your brain, especially during the vulnerable developmental years when you’re a child, dedicates itself to adapting to the environment to ensure your preservation.
 
It’s important to understand that when the developing brain is focused on survival, it’s energy and resources aren’t able to be as easily directed towards learning, cultivating social and interpersonal skills, play, creativity, etc. For this reason, many adult survivors of childhood trauma feel later in life as if they are developmentally behind their peers, and can struggle to manage the stressors, social interactions, and emotional regulation skills that adult life requires.
 
Typically, when you’re exposed to a traumatic event, there is an end to the event, a time where the nervous system can begin to decompress and regulate itself back to a baseline level of calm, focused, and open to forming connections with others (your body knows that establishing and maintaining relationships is essential to your survival-we all need a tribe to belong to).
 
When you’re chronically exposed to a series of traumatic events, especially during your vulnerable developmental years in childhood, your brain and nervous system are forced into a constant state of dysregulation. This is when complex PTSD (CPTSD) develops.
 
It’s normal for many survivors of childhood trauma to vacillate between the various 4 F’s (fight, flight, freeze, and fawn) to adapt to the different stressors they come across in their day-to-day life. Many survivors will find that there tend to be one or two of the 4 F’s that they resonate with the most, as this is likely the baseline where their nervous system had to adjust to ensure their survival.
 
Some ways that different stress responses can manifest may appear similar to or even be comorbid with a variety of disorders; as always, it’s important to seek the help of a licensed therapist who has been trained specifically in treating trauma.
 
When the nervous system has been “stuck” in a fight, flight, freeze, or fawn response for an extended period of time, especially during crucial developmental years, this is when aspects of one’s personality, worldview, and models for relationships are impacted.
 
You might see parts of yourself in predominantly one description, in a few of the descriptions, or in all of them.

The Fawn Response

Living in a state of chronic fawn response can manifest as an internal anxiety to placate and people-please others as a means of avoiding the threat of rejection, abandonment, or criticism. Survivors of childhood trauma who adapted to the family dysfunction by becoming the family caretaker, therapist, or even surrogate spouse and confidante to the dysfunctional parent (the parentified/hero child role) may find themselves immersed in a chronic fawn response.
 
They can be plagued later in life with intense feelings of guilt, a sense of over-responsibility for other’s emotions/behaviors, and an urge to “rescue” or “fix” others. When their earliest caregivers were irresponsible, individuals with a chronic fawn response learned to adapt to the family dysfunction by picking up the slack and carrying the family burdens.

Survivors with a chronic fawn response can carry an unhealthy amount of guilt and sense of obligation and responsibility for other’s feelings and well-being. Fear of experiencing this sense of guilt itself can spur them into making commitments to others that they do not truthfully want to make. This can lead to them harboring a great deal of resentment towards others, which they may also feel guilty for feeling.
 
They often struggle with feeling disconnected from themselves, struggling to get in touch with their own emotions, needs, and wants. In their developmental years, their sense of identity came from how useful they were able to be for their caregivers (especially in families with a narcissistic or personality disordered parent). They learned to focus their energy outside of themselves and onto others to ensure they would be accepted and safe.
 
When they did attempt to care for themselves or assert their own feelings and needs in their family of origin, they may have been met with shame, punishment, and rejection. Many with a chronic fawn response were regularly accused by their dysfunctional parent of being “selfish” if they asked for anything from the parent, dared to tell the parent no or disagree with the parent, or took care of themselves. In this way, the abusive parent was able to use guilt and shame as a means of controlling the child and to ensure the child would continue to focus on meeting the parent’s needs.
 
With intention, practicing healthy boundaries, and committing to refrain from self-abandonment, trauma survivors who experience a chronic fawn response can learn to use their empathy and emotional intelligence to create deep, fulfilling relationships. Often, they feel called to help others heal and are in tune with the needs of other human beings both in their immediate environment and in our society.

​Learning to trust their own judgement and to practice checking in with themselves (“What am I feeling right now? What do I need?”) are going to be important steps in recovery for the survivor with a chronic fawn response.
 
With healing, survivors with a fawn response can come to discover that they have become the person that they always yearned for as children, especially since they characteristically are gifted at nurturing and guiding.

The Freeze Response

Chronic freeze response can look like living in a state of dissociation, feeling emotionally numb, hopeless, and experiencing depression. You might experience brain fog, lack of enjoyment and motivation, difficulty focusing, gastrointestinal disorders (IBS-C is common), and feelings of apathy. Some of my clients living in a state of chronic freeze response have described a feeling of hopelessness and helplessness.
 
Individuals who experience a chronic freeze in their nervous systems often were in childhood environments where they were regularly made to experience feelings of powerlessness, left to process intense emotions and traumatic experiences alone with little to no guidance, and felt unseen and unheard by the important figures in their life.

It can feel to them as if they are still small children living in an adult body, with a part of them that is unconsciously looking for another adult to step in and care for them. When they encounter a situation in which some healthy assertiveness, confrontation, or conflict is inevitable and even necessary, they can struggle to find their voice and may go to extreme measures to avoid difficult conversations, no matter how much inconvenience this might cause them. 
 
Later in life, if you struggle with a chronic freeze response, you might have difficulty accessing and feeling your emotions, or feel so overwhelmed by your emotions that your nervous system automatically seeks outlets to help you numb and suppress them. This can manifest as overspending, binge eating, different forms of addictions, video games, pornography, and self-isolation. You might struggle to experience a sense of belonging and purpose in your life.
 
It’s common for individuals living in a chronic state of freeze to feel rudderless, and to hide their desire for connection and meaning underneath a feeling of apathy to protect themselves from disappointment.

This can look like resignation and an apathetic worldview-but underneath the surface, they have a deep longing for others to take an interest in them, even if being the object of another person’s focus can feel overwhelming or even threatening to them (being seen often meant being rejected or harshly criticized growing up).
 
Children who were placed in the scapegoat or lost child family roles can struggle with chronic freeze response. As the survivor who has been stuck in a chronic freeze response heals, it’s crucial for them to establish a sense of safety within themselves and to seek out relationships where it is safe for them to show vulnerability.
 
These are often thoughtful, imaginative, and sensitive souls who have more to offer others than they might realize. Underneath the surface, they can be highly sentimental and experience emotions deeply.

​Experimenting with gradually emerging from their protective shell in the form of authentic self-expression, allowing themselves to notice and feel their emotions, and learning to have fun and play again are extremely important to healing the freeze type.

The Fight Response

Living in a chronic fight response can manifest physically in the form of TMJ, neck and shoulder pain from muscle tension, IBS (especially IBS-C), high blood pressure, and even heart disease. If you’ve been living in a chronic state of fight, your body is likely holding onto much tension.
 
Fight response can manifest as perfectionism, intense self-criticism, and unrealistic expectations of oneself and others. Survivors living in a chronic fight response may have been subjected to intense displays of anger, violence, and unpredictable mood changes in their caregivers during childhood.
 
Individuals who experience a chronic fight response may have been their abusive parent’s “punching bag”, both emotionally and physically. They were likely also saddled with their parent’s unrealistic expectations and had high demands to succeed placed on them. Often, this child experiences very little compassion from their parent and learns that there is no room for error.
 
The child’s role is to “perform” and represent the abusive parent well as the parent lives vicariously through them, and/or to be an outlet for the parent’s hidden internalized shame and unconscious feelings of inferiority. Both the scapegoat child and golden child roles commonly experience being “stuck” in a fight response.
 
The dysfunctional parent may have only related to this child from a place of anger, suspicion, and contempt-creating a model for future relationships where anger = love and connection. To maintain a relationship with their caregiver, the child stuck in a chronic fight response learns to align themselves with their parent’s anger and distrustful, often cynical, worldview.
 
In dysfunctional families where the parent relates to the children in a hostile, sarcastic, or snide way, this child learned to pick up this approach and apply it to their close relationships to avoid emotional honesty and the fear that comes with vulnerability.
 
As children, they may have witnessed their abusive parent using anger and intimidation as a means to get their needs met and learned that anger could be used as a tool to gain control over others when they feel overwhelmed or wronged (the golden child role commonly struggles with this). Their family of origin may have operated under the unspoken (or spoken) philosophy that talking about or experiencing feelings was weakness, and anger was modeled as the only acceptable emotion that would be respected.
 
The child learns from their dysfunctional parent that veiling their more vulnerable emotions with anger allows them to avoid feeling inadequate, rejected, or powerless.
 
If one parent is abusive and the other enables the abuse without intervening and protecting them as children, this child may learn to “stuff” their anger towards the enabling parent down to preserve the only semblance of a safe parent-child relationship they have. This anger simmers beneath the surface where it may build up and come out sideways, sometimes directed inwards, other times, directed outwardly onto others they enter into relationships with later in life.
 
Other times, the abuser may have projected their unwanted qualities onto them as children, until the child begins to believe they are inherently “bad” and “defective” in some way. The dysfunctional parent plants the seed of their own rage into the child and convinces the child that it belongs solely to them to avoid taking responsibility for their own emotions. The child then takes on this identity of “badness” in order to continue to maintain the connection with the abusive parent, acting as the family scapegoat and receptacle for the family’s unwanted emotions.
 
They often have been taught that their worth is tied to the outcome-if they experience failure, they identify with failure. They intensely fear feeling inadequate or helpless. To survive, they may have learned to bypass their emotional experiences and intellectualize them instead, focusing on taking action and being “productive” rather than taking the time to observe and feel their more vulnerable emotions, which they might view as “unproductive”.

These types carry a great deal of pressure to perform and restlessness that makes it difficult for them to relax or experience pleasure.
 
Survivors of childhood trauma with this type of chronic dysregulation in their nervous system may gravitate to highly stressful occupations and chaotic work environments, where they feel right at home.
 
While this is not the case for all individuals who struggle with a nervous system stuck in a chronic state of fight, in their relationships, they may be in danger of becoming potentially abusive towards their partners, as in childhood they may have become desensitized to harsh verbal exchanges or even physical altercations.

They might struggle to be emotionally available and vulnerable with their partners for fear of being perceived as weak, inferior, or helpless. Without self-awareness and intention, they can cause their loved ones a great deal of pain and behave abusively, as they have learned to use anger as a means of getting their needs met and creating a sense of inner control and safety.
 
They tend to have strong, assertive personalities and are motivated by achievement, even if they rarely pause to allow themselves to celebrate their success. They can struggle with functional depression, have an internalized negative worldview, and are prone to cynicism, questioning the motives of others with suspicion.
 
Without awareness, they can approach relationships as a power-struggle where there is an underlying sense of competitiveness and a distrust that their needs will be met, rather than seeking to compromise and create a win-win scenario.
 
Possessing a great deal of confidence, charisma, and resolve, they aren’t afraid to blaze their own trail and lead a life outside of the norm, whether that be starting their own business or becoming a professional athlete. They can be highly protective of their loved ones and of what they believe to be true and right. When paired with healthy compassion, a willingness to be vulnerable, and empathy, fight types make incredible leaders and team-builders.
 
Survivors living in a chronic fight response can find a great deal of healing in practicing gradually loosening the reigns and allowing themselves to acknowledge their own humanity. They must learn to give themselves permission to make mistakes and how to meet themselves with compassion when they inevitably do.

​With practice, they might be surprised to learn that they can actually succeed more when their efforts are fueled by self-compassion and the willingness to be emotionally honest with themselves and others.
 
If they want to create fulfilling and enjoyable relationships, they must learn ways in which they can begin to meet their own needs, assume responsibility for themselves and their actions, and practice seeking to understand other’s perceptions rather than strictly believing their own perception is the only “right” way of viewing things.
 
Learning to play again, to allow themselves to be imperfect and flawed, and to understand that their urge to engage in perfectionism is truthfully stemming from a need to feel worthy and safe will help free them up to experience so much more nuance and richness in life.  

The Flight Response

A chronic flight response can make it difficult for the survivor to experience a sense of stability in their life. Being stuck in a regular state of flight can manifest as anxiety, panic attacks, a chronic sense of urgency and restlessness, difficulty sleeping or sitting still, GI disorders (IBS-D and Chron’s is common), high blood pressure, and many other symptoms.
 
If you’re living in a chronic flight state, you might struggle to maintain a sense of consistency and stability in your day-to-day life, particularly in your relationships. You might leave a relationship at the first sign of conflict, or quietly “ghost” friends and significant others, even when you really do still care for them.
 
Individuals who are in a chronic state of flight can doubt their own ability to problem solve and to cope with life’s stressors, including conflict in their relationships. They fear experiencing painful and difficult feelings and can often feel that their emotions are threatening or loom larger than life.
 
Becoming attached to others may be something that they fear, as they might equate being in a relationship with losing their autonomy and independence. This can manifest as avoidant behaviors in relationships.
 
Without awareness, they might pride themselves on having an unhealthy level of self-sufficiency, insisting that they don’t need anyone else and viewing relationships as transactional rather than as connections that can grow and become meaningfully deeper with time.
 
As children, they may have experienced a sense of being smothered by their caregiver and as a result are terrified of developing closeness in their relationships in adulthood. This is especially common in dysfunctional families where the parent may have enmeshed themselves with the child to experience security and fulfillment within themselves.

If the child experienced a great deal of volatility, unpredictability, and inconsistency in their family of origin (i.e. mom bringing home different men on a regular basis, inconsistent living arrangements, a caregiver who runs hot and cold in the way they approach the child), instability might feel safe to them because it’s what is familiar.
 
To be seen and known as a child generally meant they would be rejected, abandoned, or even severely punished, leading them to avoid closeness and emotional intimacy later in life.
 
As adults, they might recreate this instability for themselves, sometimes in the form of constantly changing jobs, moving around, overspending to create financial instability, jumping from one relationship to another, engaging in risky behaviors, etc.
 
On the outside, it can look like this individual has an abundance of energy. They might have difficulty sitting still and an urge to be productive and active as a means of channeling an outlet for their inner anxiety. In this way, the behavior might look similar to a fight response. They might struggle with skin-picking, nail-biting, or fidgeting as their nervous system seeks out a means of releasing their excess energy and grounding/soothing them.
 
Others might view them as spontaneous, scatterbrained, and even flaky. They might struggle to make commitments, even commitments that deep down, they truly do want to make. Being “tied down” creates feelings of overwhelm and helplessness that they desperately want to avoid.

They can struggle to recognize that these feelings are coming from within themselves, and instead, project the source of their anxiety outwards onto others and relationships in general “They just expect too much of me” or “Relationships aren’t for me”.
 
What they struggle to realize is that it’s not others that they are running from, it’s themselves.
 
Closeness in childhood with their parent may have meant being engulfed by the parent and their emotional needs, causing the child to equate connection with loss of self. Having a sense of self is essential to survival. To adapt to this, the nervous system attempts to preserve their autonomy by avoiding the threat-vulnerable connection with others.
 
This urge to avoid relationships to preserve their sense of self can manifest itself as workaholism, where they may neglect their important relationships, choosing instead to spend long hours at the office. They might spend excessive amounts of time with friends, partying, or engaging in behaviors that they know their partner would be uncomfortable with or even disapproving of, as they unconsciously might project their controlling and enmeshed parent’s persona onto their partner and are rebelling within the safety of their romantic relationship.

The avoidance can also look like choosing surface level relationships where the status of the relationship itself is vague and noncommittal, even if deep down they would prefer a more meaningful connection.
 
When confronted by others for their noncommittal or flaky behavior, they might avoid taking responsibility to suppress an intense feeling of inner shame and anxiety at experiencing another person’s disapproval. This can prompt them to leave the relationship, often with no explanation, to avoid introspection and accountability.
 
Other’s emotional expression in relationships can lead them to withdraw, since they are overwhelmed by their own emotional experiences and struggle to hold space for them. In a way, their withdrawal of engagement in the relationship is used to communicate to the other person that if they want to continue the relationship, they must participate in the mutual suppression of emotion and avoid voicing needs or having any expectations that might require consistency and reliability of their flight partner.
 
Often, they can be chronically late in an unconscious attempt to gain a sense of control by exercising their autonomy (keeping someone waiting for them, regularly changing the meeting time/place at the last minute, etc.). The consistency and reliability of a secure relationship tends to feel boring to them, as their nervous system is on high alert and resonates with the intensity of a chaotic and unpredictable emotional environment.
 
It's not uncommon for the individual experiencing a chronic state of flight to be frustrated and mystified by their own behavior, unsure of why they seem to “self-sabotage” or feel the urge to uproot themselves and leave before they can be rejected, abandoned, or experience painful emotions.
 
Choosing to take responsibility for their life and their behavior can be a difficult task for the individual stuck in a flight response, since they tend to carry intense fear of sitting with the feelings that may come up if they do.
 
Learning to observe and sit with their emotions is a necessity for the individual who has been in a chronic flight response. They need to see that they can trust themselves to cope with life’s difficulties.

It can help these types to start small and begin to notice what triggers in their relationships and in their environments lead them to feel the urge to withdraw or flee. Noticing the trigger and the sensations they experience in their bodies when they have the urge to engage in flight can help them begin to develop confidence in their ability to experience difficult emotions and make conscious decisions of their own free will.
 
After having become accustomed to living in a heightened reactive state for so long, they unconsciously crave the stability and loving discipline they likely didn’t receive in childhood.

Part of reparenting the inner child for the survivor with a chronic flight response might involve gradually building positive habits that promote responsibility and self-care. Small habits, such as making the bed or journaling daily, can help the survivor begin to develop trust in their ability to be relatively consistent.
 
With the help of a good trauma therapist, practicing asserting loving boundaries with themselves while developing the skill of communicating their feelings and needs clearly with others are pivotal steps in the healing process (“I’m not going to stay out late tonight, I have work tomorrow and will feel better if I get some good sleep” or “I notice I’m feeling overwhelmed when my spouse asked me for quality time, I know she isn’t my mother and doesn’t want to control me or take away my independence, she just wants to be with me. I can always ask for me-time when I need it”).
 
Survivors with chronic flight can begin to heal when they intentionally seek ways they can show up for themselves rather than self-abandon and self-neglect, which in turn leads to abandoning and neglecting their relationships.
 
Learning to trust themselves and develop a higher capacity to feel their feelings is what will finally, at long last, bring the survivor in a chronic flight response the sense of inner peace they long for.