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anita.
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June 14, 2025 at 9:57 am #446823
Honesty55
ParticipantHow can I stop oversharing? I have CPTSD.
June 14, 2025 at 11:03 am #446828anita
ParticipantDear Honesty55:
Thank you for sharing that—it takes a lot of courage to speak up, especially when CPTSD is in the picture.
For many people—especially those who’ve experienced trauma, emotional neglect, or unpredictable responses from caregivers—oversharing becomes a defensive strategy. It’s like saying, “If I reveal everything up front, no one can accuse me of hiding something, lying, or being inconsistent.” That hyper-transparency becomes a way to try to protect oneself from judgment, rejection, or conflict before it even happens.
In a sense, oversharing becomes a kind of armor. It’s rooted in fear: fear of being misunderstood, fear of being blindsided by criticism, or fear of being perceived as dishonest or “too much.” So instead of letting connection unfold at a natural pace, the person might rush to unload everything in the hope of controlling the outcome—or proving they have nothing to hide.
It’s often not a conscious choice. It can feel like a compulsion, wired into the nervous system as a form of self-preservation.
Please know you’re not alone in this. So many of us are still learning how to feel safe without needing to explain everything first. If you feel like sharing more or just want someone to reflect with, I’m here and would be honored to listen. You deserve safety, clarity, and connection—on your own terms and in your own time.
Sending you encouragement and care, Anita
June 14, 2025 at 12:50 pm #446829Honesty55
ParticipantThanks so much for replying. I was interested to hear your explanation.
The thing I’ve noticed with it, is that other people might try to manipulate you by scrutinizing and disputing or misreporting what you say. Also, I was being honest and open with some people and then was gaslighted and lied about to others.
So what is a positive approach to dealing with those kinds of situation?
June 14, 2025 at 1:52 pm #446830Alessa
ParticipantHi Honesty
I’m sorry to hear that you’ve had these difficulties with people. ❤️
Unfortunately, I feel like people are always going to behave in these ways whether you overshare or not. It is just certain characters.
People often act in patterns. I find paying attention to how people treat and talk about others helpful because they are likely to treat you in a similar way.
I also kind of share things in specific ways. A little at a time, slowly building the level of trust. If someone proves trustworthy in one area, I feel confident in sharing a bit more. It does take time to get to know others tendencies though.
June 14, 2025 at 11:45 pm #446831anita
ParticipantDear Honesty55: I will reply tomorrow morning (it’s Sat night here).
Anita
June 15, 2025 at 8:12 am #446837Britney
ParticipantBe careful. Oversharing hurts people around you. They are becoming victims of your trauma. I did it. I hurt the most important people in my life. Lost friends. Don’t overshare. You hurt yourself and you hurt others.
June 15, 2025 at 8:53 am #446839anita
ParticipantDear Honesty55:
You are very welcome! You asked a powerful question: how to deal with people who scrutinize, dispute, or misreport what you share. The pain in that question is clear, and so is the self-awareness behind it. You’re not alone in this—so many people with CPTSD find themselves oversharing not because they want to, but because it feels like the only safe option.
Sometimes oversharing becomes a way to feel in control. When you’ve been gaslighted, misunderstood, or punished for withholding the “wrong” thing, it can feel like the safest path is to reveal everything, immediately. That way, no one can accuse you of hiding, lying, or contradicting yourself.
Here’s a metaphor that might resonate: It’s like someone who’s lived through sudden, violent storms learning to open all the windows in advance. Not because they want the storm, but because if it’s going to crash in anyway, at least they won’t be caught off guard. It gives a sense of control in a world that’s often felt dangerous and unpredictable.
But as you’ve experienced, this strategy can backfire when others misuse your vulnerability. When people twist your words or manipulate your honesty, it reinforces the fear that your truth isn’t safe with anyone. It’s devastating—and you never deserved that.
So what might a gentler, safer path look like?
* Go slow with disclosure. You don’t owe your whole story to everyone. Share in steps, and see how someone handles the little things first.
* Tune in to your own needs. Ask yourself: Am I sharing this because I want connection? Or because I’m afraid not to share?
* Watch for signals of safety. Does the person listen without judgment? Do they hold your truth with care? If not, that’s about them, not your worthiness.
* Build safe spaces elsewhere. Journaling, therapy, creative outlets, or spaces like this one can hold all of you without judgment or misuse.
Your honesty is not the problem. The problem is that too often the world didn’t meet your truth with the safety and kindness it deserves. But that doesn’t mean you have to silence it—it just means you get to choose where, when, and with whom to share it.
If you’d like to share more or keep exploring this, I’m here and would be honored to listen. You’re already doing something powerful by asking these questions, and you deserve support every step of the way.
I’d like to close this post by sharing a bit of my own experience with C-PTSD and oversharing—
As a young child—like any young child—I’m sure I was honest and open with my mother. But after so many times when she scrutinized, disputed, and misrepresented what I said—when she gaslighted me and accused me of trying to hurt her feelings (which was untrue!)—I stopped sharing anything with her. I learned to hold everything in.
Fast forward many years, and I realized I had internalized her behavior: I was now the one scrutinizing, disputing, and mistrusting my own thoughts. A part of me constantly defended itself against an inner “Scrutinizer”—correcting my thoughts, choosing more precise words, worrying about misunderstandings (even within my own mind), and trying to be 100% exact. I lived in fear of making a mistake, even something as small as using the “wrong” word.
Looking back, I see now that my mother wasn’t reacting to my words because they were wrong—she reacted because she was unwell. But as a child, I couldn’t know that. So I adapted. And I carried that adaptation into adulthood.
Only recently has the Inner Scrutinizer begun to grow quiet. What a relief.
As far as oversharing- I generally under shared because I didn’t feel safe to share with anyone, but when I did share, I had to be exact, had to give the person ALL the information so that they could understand the situation. Problem was people were not interested in viewing the situations from all angles that I presented, too much work! I overshared with the idea in mind that the person I was oversharing too had the motivation and the ability to understand a complex situation and I was mistaken. Now when I share in real-life, I do it in small portions, understanding that people are limited in their attention span and also, understanding that while I talk to a person, the person may be hearing their thoughts louder than the words I say.
Hearing one’s own thoughts instead of what a person is actually saying brings me back to my mother. I want to share one instance, from when I was around 5 or 6 years old. (Telling these stories helps me process the past).
Trigger Warning
My mother and father were fighting—it was nighttime. She announced that she was going to kill herself and left the apartment. I started crying very loudly. To silence me, my father beat me with a belt. I stopped crying. He then left the apartment too, and I was alone.
Scared, I walked down the stairs and out into the street in search of my mother, afraid with every step that I’d find her body. I finally made it to the street, where I saw my mother—and neighbors who had heard the shouting were there too. When I saw that she was alive, I was so happy. I was ecstatic. I ran to her in joy, shouting: “Mother, you are ALIVE!”
Her response: an angry, accusatory, “And why wouldn’t I be alive?”
What I meant to say, in essence, was: Mother, I love you so much. I’m so happy you didn’t kill yourself.
What she heard seemed closer to: Mother, I’m going to tell all the neighbors that you said you’d kill yourself, so you’ll feel ashamed. Your pain is my pleasure.
What she heard wasn’t even close to what I felt. But that misinterpretation fit a pattern—many times, she “heard” me as if I were trying to hurt or shame her. I wasn’t, of course, but whenever I tried to explain that to her, she insisted I was.
Back to you, Honesty55: the people you talk to may not be as mentally unwell as my mother was, but they still have their own mental chatter—stories, fears, and assumptions—they listen to every day. So before sharing more with someone, it might help to ask for feedback on what you’ve already said. That way, you can see whether they’re truly hearing your words, or if they’re mostly responding to their own inner dialogue, which may have little or nothing to do with what you actually said.
With warmth, Anita
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