Trauma And The Brain
Frustration and Trauma
I was out walking my chihuahua, Tiny this week. As soon as I got out my sun hat and long sleeve shirt, Tiny knew it was time for a walk. He eagerly jumped up on my wheelchair and rode through the neighborhood. I often use our walks as time to think about the day, pray or ponder the meaning of life. But that day, I just couldn’t get myself together. My thoughts drifted to a neighbor who wanted me to do something for them. So irritating. Other obligations began bearing down. I thought of all the things I’d left undone and wondered how I was ever going to get to everything. A gentle breeze caressed my face, and a green parrot chirped from a palm tree, but I didn’t even notice. I didn’t care about the sunshine in early March or the clear sky, or the smell of orange blossoms. I felt overwhelmed and everything else disappeared.
Frustration began to creep in. Why is it always like this? I thought. Why won’t people leave me alone? Why can’t I learn to say no? Gosh I hate the way I am always upset. Why can’t I cope with life? What is wrong with me? If you are a trauma survivor, you will recognize these thought patterns very quickly. Overwhelm turns into irritation which becomes frustration and if I’m not careful, soon devolves into self-hatred. I reprimand myself and wish the world would just go away.
At other times, I ask myself questions like: Why can’t I control my rage? Why am I so deeply unhappy? Why am I in physical pain all the time? Why am I so exhausted? Why can’t I control myself? Why do I hate myself? WHAT IS WRONG WITH ME? And yet, I have this other life that is as close to perfect as you can possibly get—and still these kinds of stressful thoughts enter my mind when I am tired or overwhelmed or frustrated.
It doesn’t seem to make any sense. My childhood trauma is long past. I went no contact with my family decades ago. I walked through the grief process, made huge changes and achieved many of the things I’d always wanted...yet...normal stress can still trigger the darkness. Why? Because trauma changes your brain.
Trauma Changes Your Brain
Bessel Van Der Kolk, in his book, The Body Keeps the Score, cites the contrast between brain scans of normal subjects with the scans of eighteen chronic PTSD patients with severe early-life trauma. He states: “There was almost no activation of any of the self-sensing areas of the brain. There could be only one explanation for such results: In response to the trauma itself, and in coping with the dread that persisted long afterward, these patients had learned to shut down the brain areas that transmit the visceral feelings and emotions that accompany and define terror. Yet in everyday life, those same brain areas are responsible for registering the entire range of emotions and sensations that form the foundation of our self awareness, our sense of who we are. What we witnessed here was a tragic adaptation: In an effort to shut off terrifying sensations, trauma survivors also deadened their capacity to feel fully alive.”
Our brain runs away with us. Literally. When you live under constant threat, anxiety and fear as a child, the brain makes adaptations that allow you to survive. These changes do not disappear because you are no longer a child. They morph into adaptations in adulthood and they get in the way of living life. If we do not understand this, we turn on ourselves, blaming and shaming and joining in with the chorus of abusive voices still existing in our head.
The parts of the brain that have been injured by trauma light up in an attempt to create safety. Instead of recognizing what is going on, then offering understanding toward ourselves, we participate in self-hatred and in frustration, dismiss this powerful force as a nuisance.
Physical Patterns of Trauma
The Three D’s
Dissociation
Dissociation is a self-protective survival technique in which a person uses dissociation in order to escape unbearable trauma. It occurs automatically outside the conscious brain. People may not even be aware they are dissociating.
What does dissociation look like?
Memory loss
The feeling of being physically detached as if you’re watching a movie of yourself
Emotional detachment
Lack of a sense of self
Though dissociation gives temporary relief, it also gets in the way of learning productive coping skills and enjoying life in the present. When I am overwhelmed by stress or my threat response is triggered (even by what seems to be a small thing) my emotions are catapulted into the past. Anxiety churns exactly the same way it did when I was a child. Instantly I move from living to just existing.
Depersonalization
Depersonalization means to feel separated from your body. To survivors, the world seems strange, odd, foreign as if we are moving through life in a dream. I often refer to it as “frozen in time.” The past is just as present as what is going on that very day. It’s not that I am lost in memory. It is that memory isn’t a memory at all. It exists in the present. Can you see how devastating this can be for an adult survivor of childhood trauma? The trauma never stops. It’s going on just as it did when I lived under the power of my abusers. As long as my brain is using depersonalization to cope, I cannot escape the abuse of the past.
Disintegration
To disintegrate means to split into little pieces. When abusers (especially caregivers) devalue, isolate and constantly threaten a child, the only response is to split apart. There is no sense of self. There is no safety anywhere. The part of the brain responsible for fight or flight (the amygdala) is constantly in charge. The brain’s training and experience take over in adulthood. When overwhelmed or threatened, I respond by disintegrating in ways that look like I’m over reacting.
After returning from my walk with Tiny, I parked my scooter, brought him inside and got myself a cup of coffee. Settling down for a quiet meditation time, I was suddenly interrupted by a loud, high pitched squeal. Thinking it was the workmen across the street, I ignored it as long as I could. On and on it went. It felt like someone was driving a screw driver into my brain. Why don’t they turn that alarm off? I wanted to jump out of my skin. Finally, I got up and went outside to find the source of the awful noise. It was my scooter. I had forgotten to turn off the key and the alarm was a safety mechanism protecting the battery.
The Alarm System of the Brain
I also have an alarm system and it is located in my brain. As a trauma survivor, anxiety is the alarm and fear is the response. The old, destructive ways of coping, dissociation, depersonalization and disintegration only cause more trouble. What is real threat? What is perceived threat? Childhood trauma complicates that. Re-training the brain is a long, slow process. At the end of this article are several books I’d like to recommend that go into more detail about changing the neuropathways of the brain. While that is absolutely paramount to healing, I want to close with one more bit of perspective.
As survivors of childhood trauma, we need to offer ourselves patience and compassion as we walk through this process. Understanding that physical changes occur in the brain because of trauma can set you free from self-blame and frustration with the process. There is not something inherently wrong with us. We did not cause these things. It is not our lack of faith or something we are doing wrong. The people we really are are waiting to be free. And step by step, no matter how difficult the path, it will be worth it because in the end, we will triumph if we do not give up. I know how hard it is, but your struggle has great significance and you are worth it. Defy trauma, embrace joy.
Books for further study:
“What Happened to You?” by Oprah Winfrey and Bruce Perry
“The Body Keeps the Score” by Bessel Van Der Kolk