Do you know the phrase “Wherever you go, there you are”? Trauma leaves a deep imprint on your brain long after the source of that trauma has been removed. So no matter where you go or how significantly you try to distract yourself, trauma clings to a part of your brain like a cancer. Eventually it metastasizes to your nervous system where it lurks just waiting for an opportunity to pounce on your raw vulnerability producing an involuntary trauma response. Cortisol and adrenaline (herculean stress hormones) are released in addition to a dramatic spike in blood pressure, heart and breathing rate to prepare us to flee or fight. You can realize how this works just by imagining hearing an intruder in your home in the middle of the night. Do you run or do you fight? Yet sometimes a trauma response is to something seemingly trivial or benign and to a witness it might not make any sense at all. The part of your brain known to control fear is the amygdala and it assists in our survival through automatically detecting danger. The amygdala cannot differentiate from the past and the present, so for a person who has experienced prolonged and severe trauma they are likely living with post traumatic stress disorder (PTSD).
I am learning how to retrain or trick my brain by creating new positive memories in some of the very places where I experienced fear and sometimes in the bleakest of moments a sense of hopelessness. I just returned from traveling out of the country with my daughter. We visited places I had never been before and I felt a renewed joy experiencing them with her and creating pretty memories I can unwrap and treasure throughout the rest of my life. There were also places we visited where I had been before with my husband…where taint hovered. However, I did not let thoughts of the past consume my new experience. When unpleasant memories did creep up I acknowledged them and then gently pushed them aside like a meditation.
Therapy has taught me that it’s crucial for survivors to do our best to avoid disassociating with ourselves because it will prolong recovery. I was a master at disassociation when my husband was being abusive. It was as if my soul unzipped my body, stepped outside of it, stuffed it with pillows to absorb the ensuing rages and threats and then quietly tip-toed to safety away from another war at home. And even since his suicide there have been countless times I think about myself in the third person, as if the trauma I experienced with him happened to someone else because I still don’t want this to be my story… a story I did not get to write. I cannot change my past, but I could embrace the moment with my daughter as I watched her experience the pleasure of the local cuisine, new cultures, exquisite chocolate and tea each night before bed. At one point she was even inspired to create a plot for a Hallmark Christmas movie as we walked through a medieval village. We sat next to a canal drinking chilled wine while clouds parted exposing the sun to further illuminate the white feathers of the swan floating in the water beneath us. We laughed collaborating on a story for Hallmark. I felt ecstatic being silly, playful and fully present inside my body…it made me feel safe…it made me feel strong…and there was finally a realization of just how far I had come. I’m not sure I have the words for the significance of this moment towards my healing journey. The tears flow as I type this but they are tears of happiness knowing another door has been unlocked… and I can safely step through it whenever I need an embrace from this perfect and transformative memory of love, peace and laughter with my beautiful daughter.
But even half way across the world and carefully navigating my conscious mind throughout the day, I was unable to escape my subconscious while I slept. A night terror so explicit it took my breath away as I awakened to my own gasp and a moan. My night terrors have become far less frequent and severe as time moves forward so the timing of this one in particular was bitterly disappointing. Unfortunately, I had not packed the medication my doctor prescribed for these terrors that rob me of sleep, and question reality. There really is such a medication called prazosin that helps with nightmares frequently associated with trauma and PTSD. It was approved by the FDA to treat hypertension but as it crosses the blood-brain barrier it helps with the relaxation of blood vessels, lowering blood pressure and decreasing the sympathetic outflow of the brain. From what I understand there are far better drugs for hypertension so the first time I picked up my RX for prazosin the pharmacist said, “Nightmares?”
I don’t think any person is exempt from some type of trauma if they have lived long enough. When I talk about the road to recovery I see that road as infinite. The bumps and swerves in the road teach me to trust in myself again…I recognize the beauty of that newfound trust and that it will always generate a lighted path to keep me moving forward. The occasional detours are inconvenient and painful but I now have the power to sustain them because I know I will acquire further growth, understanding, strength, empathy and compassion on the other side. I will never be completely free of traumatic feelings and thoughts associated with my husband’s abuse and violent death. But I can carry on and accept the bad days with grace for myself and bask in the good days and the significant goodness of the people in my life. I won’t reach the end of that road, but I will forever be a survivor proudly marching down it. And this is the thing about trauma.
