I often write about trauma recovery as a process or steps. I do this for many reasons. First, I have always loved making a confusing thing more understandable. I think this is a gift that I was supposed to bring to the world in one form or another. Second, it is a defense mechanism. Let’s face it. Trauma recovery is messy. It doesn’t make a lot of sense except in hindsight. And I love to be in my brain. It feels safe. It feels controllable. It feels less scary. And even though I may be fooling myself, it helps a little. Third, it appeals to your defense mechanisms. I love that I can make you feel a little safe too. And if we create a community of momentary relief from the trauma recovery process, we should do that.
But today, I wanted to do something a little different. Today I am going to get super-real. I am going to discuss what the real process looks like because we all know it doesn’t come in 4, 5, 6 or even 7 steps. It looks more like a child’s finger painting project with a dot at the end (or realistically there may be no dot at the end but we will hope). It doesn’t make sense. We can’t control it. It never feels safe. And we just want the whole thing to be over.
So here is a realistic account of what trauma (and in my case, memory) recovery looks like:
- I have an energetic or physical release somewhere in my body.
- I get the sense that something isn’t quite right.
- I convince myself I am making it up and everything is fine.
- I convince myself I am done with recovery work and any minute, I will be having a “top of the mountain” enlightening experience that will change my life forever. There will be no more pain.
- I spend five minutes indulging in that beautiful thought.
- My kids start acting crazy and jumping all over the living room (sign 1).
- I get short with them (sign 2).
- I begin to feel a tingling sensation in my forehead (sign 3).
- I get additional body pain somewhere in my body (sign 4).
- My vision begins to blur and my thinking gets a little fuzzy (sign 5).
- My thoughts get manic and will not stop (sign 6).
- This is the point where I know I am in trouble.
- I whine. I whine a lot because I am tired. I am so so so tired.
- I try to pretend it isn’t happening.
- I spend thirty minutes pretending I made up all the signs and I am not getting another memory back.
- The tidal wave of emotion sets in. Sometimes the tidal wave is fast and takes over my system instantly. Sometimes it comes in slowly over several hours making me feel worse and worse.
- I now feel like total crap. I feel angry, sad, hopeless and I have lost all motivation to make anything of my life.
- Anxiety … depression … anxiety … depression … the swings begin.
- There is more physical pain.
- I contemplate all the ways I could move to another part of the planet to escape myself which I cognitively know won’t work.
- I hate everything. I hate my life. I hate all my choices. I hate everyone in my life. I refuse to do anything ever again. I turn on the TV and grab a wine glass.
- After several hours of wasting my time, I consider the possibility that these emotions are from a past traumatic event and not about right now.
- I completely reject that possibility because someone just sent an email to reject a proposal I sent to them. Clearly, I would feel this way over a rejected proposal. Of course I would.
- I lay my head down next to my computer and have a complete meltdown or temper tantrum.
- Fifteen minutes later, I consider the possibility that these emotions are from a past traumatic event and not about right now.
- I completely reject that possibility because I just found a bill under a pile of paper that I forgot to pay. Clearly, I would feel this way over a bill I forgot to pay. Of course I would.
- A couple of hours later, I consider the possibility that these emotions are from a past traumatic event and not about right now.
- I go to bed.
- This cycle will repeat. It will take hours if I have mustered the strength of 1,000 horses. It will take days if I am just not having it.
- I finally convince myself to write from the emotion despite all my defenses telling me not to. I write about how much I hate everyone and everything.
- I flash. I have a flashback of something from the past.
- I spend several hours or days piecing together a memory from the past and I write it down, mostly in pieces as it comes back.
- I start to get a sense of clarity. Literally, my eyes start to clear. The world begins to get brighter.
- For a few minutes, I feel a sense of complete confidence. I can do anything. I OWN the whole world. I am unstoppable. I am invincible. I can’t stop thinking of amazing projects to do next (but not in the manic way).
- I have an energetic or physical release somewhere in my body.
- Damn!
Yes same as me!!!!!! What a rollercoaster ride is our life.
Good work Elisabeth. Pretty much describes my experience. I hate how it takes me over & I get disconnected, anxious & unproductive. I tend to resist surfacing the memories now because I’m taking a break after quite a few years of working on my childhood abuse experience. I have been thinking lately that I should get back into that work again now, particularly as issues with my family of origin keep happening. Thanks for this post, it is very helpful to me. Peter x
Thank you Peter.
Love this one. You’re a gifted writer.
Thank you Victoria!
Amen Victoria.
Wow — this post (and image) came through at the right time. I feel like the past month or two has been a one step forward two leaps back kind of time. The red scribble scratch goes with my brain exactly!
I wish it were easier to go in “nice simple orderly steps” and listen to what my body needs, instead of 1-36 like you listed!!
Thank you Caroline. It sure would be easier, wouldn’t it?
Wow. Thank you so much for putting this together! Yes! This is my experience, too – so often I am excruciatingly hard on myself about these feelings (like I’m in control of it) and just feel so out of control. This really helped me tonight.
Thank you Chloe! I am so glad it helped.
Wow! I can relate to every one of those steps. I’m glad I’m not the only one and this healing journey really is messy and very very hard. I will not stop though because the alternative is complete misery or just wishing I was no longer alive.
Thank you Teresa. You are right. The alternative is not acceptable.
Reading this developed tears of emotions spilling over. This is exactly how it goes…every time! Again and again. So comforting to know I’m not the only one. Elisabeth, you are so talented in putting such complicated experiences into simplified words.
Thank you Bonnie! I am glad this is comforting to you. You are not alone.
Ah- so that’s where the “I hate my life, I hate everything about my life” comes from, fits in! Sometimes I’m pretty satisfied I’m making progress and things are moving forward, and then all that stuff starts going- I also have moments where my thoughts and ability to do/focus on anything just whoosh- vanish. There’s no train of thought, there’s no train. There’s no track, there’s no ground for the track to be on. Wiped clean. Nothing. And that’s when I’ll start wandering almost in circles, no idea what I’m doing, could be doing, should be doing or want to be doing. Like I’m standing in mid-air with nothing under or around me. Then comes the crash of hopeless, trapped. Thank you for showing your brain/body going thru this. I feel much more compassion for you, me, any survivor… and want to show this to anyone who says aren’t you over this yet?
Very real very true. I feel relief after a good cry but exhausted and drained afterward. Sometimes I get a sense of energy. I talk about it to God. Thank you for the validation Elizabeth. You’re a true blessing.
The thrashing brain & body do get better. Slowly and painfully, and over years. But it does get better. Your ability to see the process, and continue seeing it, makes all the difference.
Thank you Drew.
EXACTTLY!
🙂
Hi
I’m sorry you too have had traumatic events in your past… Nothing no one says or does makes it easy for me I have at least 3-5 (minimum) flashbacks a day but unlike you (and I think this may be kind of a blessing for me) I don’t go through them stages/steps going into the flashbacks they just happen without warning or cause
They are very vivid and very real (every time) and it’s extremely difficult to get to the paint where I remember it’s the past (as it happened over 19 years (with small gaps) of my only 30yr life, with many different perpetrators.
What happens to me is I on occasion stare into space when I’m having a flashback sometimes my function continue working without me even know I even respond to conversation when having flashbacks it’s just become a part of my day to day pain
After a flashback I sometimes cry, I sometimes go quite I sometimes talk excessively (or at least I think I am, I feel myself talking weird, like fast and impulsive)
Sometimes it can take minutes to get back to what I call normal sometimes it takes hours sometimes I don’t get ‘back to normal’ before the next flashback comes
I hope this helps you into the insight of my flashbacks and how they can come on differently
Hi Lexie, Yes. You are describing dissociation, which is our most common reaction to flashbacks and emotions from our trauma. Have you considered writing from the flashback and emotion while you are experiencing it? They don’t tend to come with warning or cause, but giving them some extra attention can allow them to fully process and stop them from coming back all the time.
Goodnes, I thought it was just me who went through the processing like this, but your description of pain, anger and sadness all mixed up with memories sounds very familiar to me. I have been in therapy for some years now but I am only just starting to experience this sort of pain and confusion. Thank you for writing about it. I learn so much from reading your blogs.
Thank you Olive. You are not alone.
What is a physical or energetic release??
When we have a muscle loosen or release, this is usually accompanied by an energetic release that you may or may not feel. When we are recovering memories and feeling emotions, it is very common for the body to respond in this way.
Thank you for this. I’m starting to believe that what trauma I have IS significant enough, that although it’s nothing like what you’ve been through, the fact that is still impacting me 40 years later validates that it needs my attention. I feel so foolish for “pretending” it’s a real thing, but I think it’s time to stop listening to that voice, and start listening to some others – including yours. Again, thank you!
This is a very common defense to invalidate our trauma in this way. I am glad you are seeing how that voice in holding you back. Try writing from it. That helps to bring our awareness to it and release the defense.