Several years ago, I began a journey to learn about trauma, what it means and how it impacts us particularly when trauma happens in early developmental stage of life. This is not a scientific description but rather, what I have discover as a result of my own exploration of trauma.
To begin with, the word trauma is a generic description of what happens when there is ongoing disregard for basic human needs. PTSD is often the result of a catastrophic event, war, abuse, unexpected death, accidents, abandonment, starvation and more. The kind of trauma I experienced, comes from the kinds of interactions with early caregivers (parents or otherwise) who were not able to meet all of our basic needs.
A baby who is hungry, wants to be fed and so cries. If those cries are ignored, the baby has a physical response. It may shut down, become placid and unable to read their own body cues, or it may become aggressive, fighting to get what it wants and needs. A baby who is frightened, wants to be assured that they are ok. If that need isn’t met, they may have a physical response: like tight shoulders, indigestion, breathing problems, and more, and they don’t know how to resolve their fear or feel safe. They may learn to ignore things that they should be afraid of because they don’t realize the dangers. Children discover plenty of options for how to deal with a fear if no one is there to help move them through it, and most of their choices are highly ineffective long term.
In my case, I learned to hide when I was afraid, not to trust anyone, and to disconnect from the world. Disconnecting is very common response to trauma; we can’t handle being overwhelmed by a situation and the best way to deal with it is to stop paying attention. Once, when I was in my teens, maybe, I asked my mother what my birth was like. She said she didn’t know because they had put her to sleep and given her a spinal injection to numb the pain. She literally was not present when I was born.
Medicines and drugs easily cross into the placenta and the baby’s blood system. That means I was also asleep when I was born. Imagine being asleep for the birth and for the next many hours until the anesthesia wears off. No bonding between mother and baby, no recourse to avoid falling asleep, a clear message that when things get stirred up emotionally, the best response is to fall asleep, literally or mentally.
This biological response has plagued me all my life. I would become upset or disturbed or excited, and mentally/emotionally leave. I didn’t know about this automatic response until a few years ago when felt it happen. There was a tingling sensation deep in my brain and upper spine, and I was gone. I had no idea why I was there in the room or what we had been talking about. I was with an SE friend at the time who was not frightened, thankfully, and asked me where I was. I had just enough attention to realize I had left, and could describe where I was and what I felt. I watched it long enough to complete the leaving and came back to where I had been before I left. That is a typical process in Somatic Experiencing, completing a trauma response allows for it to resolve rather than perpetual repetitions.
Completing a trauma response doesn’t always heal it completely the first time, but it provided a huge insight into how I have typically responded when upset. I leave, change the subject, laugh it off, become sarcastic, accuse the other person of doing something wrong, and more. Today, I am learning to stay with the feeling before I leave, and speak from that place. It is more authentic than an analytical or head-based explanation.
I wish my mother had had a chance to explore this as well. She and I were close but never bonded in a deep way. I didn’t trust her with my trials and tribulations as a child because she always brushed it aside as though it didn’t matter. We continued the struggle when I became an adult and needed some autonomy. She wanted to tell me what to do — an unwanted response.
It is only now, after I have explored many aspects of this early trauma that I understand she also faced the same disconnecting process and was unable to respond to me or others. She was loving in her own way, never cruel, but always slightly detached. I didn’t realize how deep these feeling of abandonment or detachment run.
To be a good SE practitioner means doing your own work. It is what helps us recognize what is going on in another person’s body and find ways to open doors to healing.
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