Too Much, Not Enough: The CPTSD Paradox
“I’m constantly criticizing myself — for what I said, for what I didn’t say, even for how I breathe.”
If you have CPTSD, you probably know this place well. When you express yourself, you feel like you’re too much — too intense, too emotional. And when you don’t, you feel quiet, disconnected, not fully there.
Naming the Paradox
The fear of being too much is that awful knot in your stomach when you speak, feel, or need something — and immediately imagine the other person rolling their eyes, backing away, or deciding you’re “too intense.”
The fear of not being enough is the hollow ache when you keep quiet, don’t meet someone’s expectations, or can’t perform at the level you think you “should.” It’s the voice that says, Why would anyone choose you?
And here’s the kicker: in CPTSD, these fears don’t alternate. They show up together, tangled, and often triggered by the same moment.
Where It Comes From
Many of us grew up in places where the rules for “how to be” were unstable. One day, you were encouraged to speak. The next, you were shamed for it. Sometimes your needs were met, sometimes mocked, sometimes ignored.
When you grow up in an environment where safety is unpredictable, you learn early that who you are needs constant editing. One day, showing excitement or sadness might get you comfort. The next, the exact same thing might get you punished. You never know which version of reality you’ll wake up to.
We became experts in reading the room — scanning faces for the smallest shift, tracking tone changes like weather patterns, always alert to what might come next — but strangers to reading ourselves. Our nervous system learned survival, not authenticity. Express yourself and you risk being “too much” — too loud, too emotional, too intense. Hold back and you risk being “not enough” — invisible, forgettable, unworthy of care. Both feel dangerous, so you live suspended between them, constantly calibrating how much of you is safe to show.
How It Shows Up Now
In relationships, it can look like overexplaining every little thing so no one misreads you, having sudden emotional outbursts that feel out of proportion, or disappearing for days because you’re scared you’ve been “too much.”
At work, it can mean swallowing an idea because you don’t want to dominate — then sitting there burning with frustration when the silence feels like proof you’re irrelevant.
In self-care, it’s swinging between strict perfectionism and complete collapse, never trusting that “enough” can be flexible.
And sometimes it’s all of this in the same day.
What Helps
Naming it: Say to yourself: “Right now I feel like I’m too much” or “Right now I feel like I’m not enough”. It turns a vague self-loathing into something you can work with.
Safe spaces: Finding even one relationship where you can experiment with taking up space — messily, imperfectly — without losing connection.
Give yourself small permissions: Ask yourself, What do I actually want to say — not because it will please someone, but because it’s my truth? This isn’t about blurting everything out; it’s about letting your own voice back into the room.
Work on regulation: Learn ways to let the intensity move through you safely — breathing exercises, grounding, writing it down. The goal isn’t to kill the feeling, but to live with it without letting it set fire to everything.
It’s not about “fixing” yourself. It’s about building pockets of safety where you can practice showing up as a whole person without shrinking or exploding.
“Some days I am too much. Some days I am not enough. And some days, I am simply a person, not a performance. Maybe that’s all I was ever supposed to be.”
