(2) Trauma hits differently. Literally.
What the heck can trauma do to me? What the heck can trauma make me do?
PROLOGUE:
(The hardest part to swallow but keep going, little Johnny, Kate and Bob will conceptualize it.)
Before we begin trauma healing, we focus internally.
We notice shifts - When do you feel angry? When do your palms start sweating? When does your mind start to wonder? When do you not even remember what happened?
Trauma creates parts within us that will show up in all different forms - your brain’s neurons are switched on (or off, to be honest*), adding a new dimension to the way your body operates and, in turn, to how emotions are formed, shaped and stored in you(r mind and body).
*an example of your brain’s neurons being switched off can be purposeful avoidance of emotion or an intentional don’t-respond-to-stress rule (also known as ‘numbing’).
Although it may be counterintuitive - welcome them.
Quick but important clarification: Thoughts happen in your mind, feelings are synonyms to sensations (so they happen in your body) and emotions are both in the mind and the body. Fun times.
Once any kind of wound has been activated, these parts become roles that we play.
Most of the time, we regret our behaviour after these roles - have you had an “I should(n’t) have said that!” moment?
If we don’t regret it, then our mind does in the form of obsessive thoughts, shame and worry, or our body does in the form of exhaustion, fatigue, lack of sleep, or irritation (just to name a few of the possibilities).
Sometimes, our intuition may shout at us “Banish these emotions! Fighting hurt us so next time we shut up!/Shutting up hurt us next time we fight!”.
Other times, we may not even remember what we said or how it felt - the good old approach to just leave our physical suit behind when a stressor occurs, only to come back to it later.
I hope that the previous two sentences made you say, “Well, gee, thanks, Katrin, so then what do I do?!”
Firstly, let’s try and notice any emotion that is coming up. The best part is that you don’t have to do anything except be with it.
When I say “notice any emotions”, I also say check in with your thoughts, and check in with your body - what is showing up in physical sensations? Any sensory modality - visually, auditorily, bodily responses?
Then we open the door of healing clarity and do the welcoming - we ask, what are you trying to show me? How are you trying to help?
Don’t fight me on this one but your trauma is trying to help you.
When a traumatic event happened - your brain said “Oh, this was so not good! What should I do about it? Avoid. such. situations. at. all. costs.”
Your body also chipped in and said “I did not like this either! I vouch to warn you if any such danger comes close to you!”
In the process of befriending our trauma, we need to ask ourselves - what are our thoughts, feelings and emotions holding for us? How are they communicating to us?
Last but not least, although your responses are trying to help - don’t let them run the show. If you do, you risk your authority over your life. And you become not an available presence of healing - which, judging by the fact that you are here, I think you actually want to become.
Sit with these words and once you are ready, we shift back the focus to our TRAUMA (101): What the heck is trauma? comrades - little Johnny, Kate and Bob.
“A self that goes on changing is a self that goes on living.”
Virginia Woolf
For the sake of your understanding, I have not yet embraced their presence of healing.
And for the sake of wrapping trauma manifestations, I have chosen the same event.
The exact same event, the exact same upbringing, and the exact same circumstances may (and most probably, will) unfold uniquely for each individual.
One more time, witnessing can generate trauma responses, too.
Remember, read between the lines.
In the same way a trauma manifestation presents an intricate interplay of adversity and the human psyche, so do my narrative choices.
Chapter 4: The Three
Rewind.
The looming threat of losing their home casts a shadow over the formative years of the three siblings.
Mom and Dad, burdened by economic hardship, struggle to make ends meet now more than ever.
The regular dinner table topics include conversations, or full-blown arguments, about bills, debt and mortgage, about staying or moving, about what another person at the table could or should have done.
The soup on the table gets cold as little Johnny’s deep-seated fear of financial instability gets hot.
Fast forward.
He knows, little Johnny knows, that from now onwards he will become hyper-focused on building a secure future.
He knows that he will do what it takes to not have to go through this again, even if it means choosing a career solely based on its financial prospects. His brain is on board.
He knows that he has the fuel for relentless success, never to face the vulnerability of financial insecurity again.
He knows that he will count every penny.
Little Johnny’s favourite word is ‘financial security’.
Play. Fast forward.
Across from him, Kate has locked eyes with a picture on the wall.
She feels the chaos inside.
She feels the constant threat of losing their family home. It is right there, deep in her bones.
She feels the emotional void that has been shaping inside her for a while.
She feels the void’s protective shield. She can’t lose anyone again.
She feels that she can’t get attached.
She feels that ‘long-term’ is a far-fetched possibility - if a possibility at all.
She looks at the painting of a valley and builds a wall around it. Around her.
No, she is not at the dinner table.
She is on her favourite spaceship, Dissociation.
Her feelings are safe now.
She does not remember what happens next.
Play. Fast forward.
In the last chair, Bob silently observes his parents, whose grip on the control of their life slips with every new beginning of the month, with every new arrival in the post box.
He thinks, ‘Isn’t it funny that the beginning of the month is the end of them?"'.
As the threat of losing his home intensifies, so does his distrust in the bigger picture, the system.
He thinks, ‘I hate these banks! Money-grabbing, loan-glorifying, stinking banks!”.
He clutches his fists, questioning every societal norm he knows of.
He thinks, ‘Who is going to hold them accountable for the divorce of my parents? Oh, a divorce is coming.’ He does not want that. No, not only the divorce. He doesn’t want this life of fear. This fear in his little brother’s eyes.
Bob knows he must take risks. His parents did the whole secure path and look where it got them.
He thinks, ‘Isn’t it fascinating? This filthy dough, the lifeblood of capitalism, the leach of the masses.”
Risky behaviour that asserts control over this chaos, that is the choice.
Pause.
If we continue to carry the bricks from the past, we will end up building the same house.
Creatively yours,
Katrin