Choosing the present
~Choosing the present…..in spite of the past
The whole world was reeling. “I can’t fill out this paperwork,” I told the assistant. “My hands are shaking so badly, I can’t hold a pen.” I didn’t mention that I couldn’t see past the tears in my eyes. Because of early childhood trauma, any type of medical appointment was so distressing it was nearly impossible to cope—but none more so than this one—the dentist.
It was more than a rough childhood dental experience. My childhood abuse centered around torture perpetrated by my mother, and she used medical appointments as part of her arsenal.
The strange thing about this trigger...it snuck up on me. I only made the appointment because my new insurance company allowed $500 for a medical appointment of my choosing. I had not been to the dentist in years and was under the delusion it would be a simple teeth cleaning. I wasn’t even worried...until the dentist’s terrifying assessment.
My jaw teeth were rotting under old crowns. Other teeth were cracked and old fillings needed repair. I could have made a down payment on a house for what this was going to cost. Three alarm trigger warnings went off in my head. Money, vulnerability, insecurity, threat, all equaled one thing—flashbacks. How would I ever endure the drilling, the noise, the smell, much less find the money to pay for it?
As we heal from childhood trauma, we are going to be accosted by the past. Neural pathways in the brain, unhealed memories and all the unconscious automatic response systems that kept us alive as children continue to go off no matter how far from the past we travel. When the old coping systems are in charge, the end result is hopelessness so deep, life becomes nothing more than something to be tolerated.
As I stood next to the counter in the dental office, the assistant put down her pen and hurried around the back and through the door to stand at my side.
“Why don’t you come back to a private office to talk about what is going on.”
That meeting became a turning point in my life. As I sobbed out my sorrow and shared for the very first time with any medical professional that I was a trauma survivor, I was met with compassion. The doctor agreed to do all the work under sedation, and I was allowed to make payments for the cost. More importantly than that, someone had been willing to listen and I had been willing to listen to myself.
I could almost hear the little girl inside me giggle. “Thanks for taking care of me,” she smiled. “I was really scared, but you stuck up for me. I think I’m going to be okay—for today anyway.”
Help will come in different forms and we will not always be met with compassion, but instead of pushing through and ignoring the panic (dissociating) I am learning to be willing to endure the terrible feelings, listen to them and let the adult in me take charge. Whenever that occurs, the monster loses another fang and I take another step towards healing.
Defy trauma, embrace joy.