ShodokanJenn
Platinum Member
SO my therapist asked a couple weeks ago if I'd be willing to answer a series of questions, with the intent of those answers being to help people who are just starting the journey into trauma therapy. I agreed to do it. I shared it with two friends after I wrote it out, and they both said it looked good. My therapist said today that he thinks it can help others. So I thought I'd share it here, too - for those who are just starting their journeys, and also for those who may be feeling discouraged at the moment. Here it is:
Prior to starting therapy, I was very dissociative. I would lose hours out of every day. Any random little thing could trigger it. I’d disappear into my mind and be completely unaware of the outside world. When I came back to reality, I’d know that I’d dissociated but I wouldn’t remember anything from that time. I was depressed, and saw no hope for the future. I was self-harming, cutting myself frequently and often requiring stitches to close the wounds. I had flashbacks very frequently throughout the day, and nightmares at night. I was sleeping an average of 2 hours a night. I avoided talking about anything having to do with my trauma. I was withholding food from myself, leading to a low BMI and nutritional deficiencies. I was not taking my medications as prescribed – some days I would take double or even triple doses, and some days I’d skip them all entirely. I was not intimate with my husband – I couldn’t stand to be touched. I had no ability to focus. I felt so much shame, fear, and confusion that I withdrew from all interactions with others.
Addressing the traumas was terrifying. I had never told anyone about what happened. I was afraid I wouldn’t be believed, and that even if I was, it was so unique and intense that it would damage whoever heard it. I was afraid there was nobody able to cope with the truth, since I was unable to cope with it myself. Also, I had been threatened with death if I ever told, and that fear was very real and present. I knew logically that it wouldn’t happen, but my emotions screamed that I was not going to survive telling. It was the only threat that those who hurt me didn’t follow through on. Everything else they’d ever threatened, they’d done.
At this point in therapy, I still have symptoms to manage. I dissociate often, but far less than I used to. I have learned to recognize when it is starting to happen, and when I notice it, I use distraction. There are lots of distraction techniques that work for me – writing, listening to music, playing the piano, art, meditation, hot showers, and squeezing ice to name a few. I haven’t self-harmed since the no-harm contract at the start of therapy. I still get tempted, but I haven’t given in. I take medications to manage some of the PTSD symptoms. The biggest help has been martial arts. Working out intensely helps me to feel much calmer afterward. It has taught me focus and meditation, and has given me confidence and a sense of purpose. I also feel safer the more I progress. I have gained control over my body, and am often able to use martial arts to alleviate the PTSD symptoms.
Giving voice to the traumas has helped me. One of the most profound things it has done is to alleviate my shame. Sharing what happened, and being told repeatedly that I wasn’t to blame and that I had done nothing wrong, has changed my perspective. Prior to therapy, the more I thought about what happened, the more I convinced myself that I was to blame for what happened. It has also helped me to realize that my responses to what happened are not abnormal. I can’t remember much from before my trauma – just a couple brief memories – so my entire life has been colored by what happened. I don’t know what it is like to live without a history of trauma, and I have always felt set apart and like I am less valuable and less able than others. But by sharing what happened, I have come to see that I AM valuable and I AM able to accomplish just as much as anyone else. Giving voice to what happened has shown me that I am an overcomer.
Fear of speaking the unspeakable used to keep me silent. Growing up, I was always hiding how I felt and what had happened. When I started therapy, I couldn’t speak about what happened. I was afraid of how it would sound, what my therapist would think of me, if I would be believed, if the people who hurt me would somehow find out and come after me like they always threatened. I overcame my fear of speaking by working slowly and carefully forward toward sharing. We started with just identifying emotions. Then we moved on to vague, non-specific information about what happened, such as naming significant dates. Next, I wrote about what happened, and my therapist read it and asked some questions. Now, I am speaking about what happened. I often feel intense fear and shame, but I trust my therapist and I know that by speaking anyway, I am overcoming the fear and shame and taking control over my life.
Learning to cope with the symptoms of PTSD has been difficult. The thing that has made the biggest difference is learning to not catastrophize the symptoms – meaning that I no longer feel like the symptoms are all-encompassing and they don’t mean that I can’t be okay. I have learned this from my therapist, when he has not been overwhelmed or shocked by the symptoms I share. I have learned to recognize that the symptoms are merely the way my brain has responded to trauma. They are not who I am, and they don’t have anything to do with my value or potential. The other thing that has helped is talking about the traumas, which helps me to feel less distress when I think about them. It also helps me to feel less intense emotions when I have flashbacks. And as I repeatedly give voice to the traumas, the flashbacks specific to those traumas fade away.
The most surprising part about overcoming the trauma’s effects has been having my emotions even out. I don’t have such frequent swings from terrified to broken hearted to furious and back again.
I have come to understand that the traumas I survived are intense and awful, but they do not have to control the rest of my life. I can overcome their effects. I know they will always be a part of me, but I know that they will eventually be part of my past instead of a part of my daily life.
The most important thing I would want others to know is that struggling with the after-effects of trauma doesn’t mean you are weak or inadequate or abnormal. Trauma is traumatic, and there is a wide range of responses. Seeking help is humbling, but also incredibly brave.
Prior to starting therapy, I was very dissociative. I would lose hours out of every day. Any random little thing could trigger it. I’d disappear into my mind and be completely unaware of the outside world. When I came back to reality, I’d know that I’d dissociated but I wouldn’t remember anything from that time. I was depressed, and saw no hope for the future. I was self-harming, cutting myself frequently and often requiring stitches to close the wounds. I had flashbacks very frequently throughout the day, and nightmares at night. I was sleeping an average of 2 hours a night. I avoided talking about anything having to do with my trauma. I was withholding food from myself, leading to a low BMI and nutritional deficiencies. I was not taking my medications as prescribed – some days I would take double or even triple doses, and some days I’d skip them all entirely. I was not intimate with my husband – I couldn’t stand to be touched. I had no ability to focus. I felt so much shame, fear, and confusion that I withdrew from all interactions with others.
Addressing the traumas was terrifying. I had never told anyone about what happened. I was afraid I wouldn’t be believed, and that even if I was, it was so unique and intense that it would damage whoever heard it. I was afraid there was nobody able to cope with the truth, since I was unable to cope with it myself. Also, I had been threatened with death if I ever told, and that fear was very real and present. I knew logically that it wouldn’t happen, but my emotions screamed that I was not going to survive telling. It was the only threat that those who hurt me didn’t follow through on. Everything else they’d ever threatened, they’d done.
At this point in therapy, I still have symptoms to manage. I dissociate often, but far less than I used to. I have learned to recognize when it is starting to happen, and when I notice it, I use distraction. There are lots of distraction techniques that work for me – writing, listening to music, playing the piano, art, meditation, hot showers, and squeezing ice to name a few. I haven’t self-harmed since the no-harm contract at the start of therapy. I still get tempted, but I haven’t given in. I take medications to manage some of the PTSD symptoms. The biggest help has been martial arts. Working out intensely helps me to feel much calmer afterward. It has taught me focus and meditation, and has given me confidence and a sense of purpose. I also feel safer the more I progress. I have gained control over my body, and am often able to use martial arts to alleviate the PTSD symptoms.
Giving voice to the traumas has helped me. One of the most profound things it has done is to alleviate my shame. Sharing what happened, and being told repeatedly that I wasn’t to blame and that I had done nothing wrong, has changed my perspective. Prior to therapy, the more I thought about what happened, the more I convinced myself that I was to blame for what happened. It has also helped me to realize that my responses to what happened are not abnormal. I can’t remember much from before my trauma – just a couple brief memories – so my entire life has been colored by what happened. I don’t know what it is like to live without a history of trauma, and I have always felt set apart and like I am less valuable and less able than others. But by sharing what happened, I have come to see that I AM valuable and I AM able to accomplish just as much as anyone else. Giving voice to what happened has shown me that I am an overcomer.
Fear of speaking the unspeakable used to keep me silent. Growing up, I was always hiding how I felt and what had happened. When I started therapy, I couldn’t speak about what happened. I was afraid of how it would sound, what my therapist would think of me, if I would be believed, if the people who hurt me would somehow find out and come after me like they always threatened. I overcame my fear of speaking by working slowly and carefully forward toward sharing. We started with just identifying emotions. Then we moved on to vague, non-specific information about what happened, such as naming significant dates. Next, I wrote about what happened, and my therapist read it and asked some questions. Now, I am speaking about what happened. I often feel intense fear and shame, but I trust my therapist and I know that by speaking anyway, I am overcoming the fear and shame and taking control over my life.
Learning to cope with the symptoms of PTSD has been difficult. The thing that has made the biggest difference is learning to not catastrophize the symptoms – meaning that I no longer feel like the symptoms are all-encompassing and they don’t mean that I can’t be okay. I have learned this from my therapist, when he has not been overwhelmed or shocked by the symptoms I share. I have learned to recognize that the symptoms are merely the way my brain has responded to trauma. They are not who I am, and they don’t have anything to do with my value or potential. The other thing that has helped is talking about the traumas, which helps me to feel less distress when I think about them. It also helps me to feel less intense emotions when I have flashbacks. And as I repeatedly give voice to the traumas, the flashbacks specific to those traumas fade away.
The most surprising part about overcoming the trauma’s effects has been having my emotions even out. I don’t have such frequent swings from terrified to broken hearted to furious and back again.
I have come to understand that the traumas I survived are intense and awful, but they do not have to control the rest of my life. I can overcome their effects. I know they will always be a part of me, but I know that they will eventually be part of my past instead of a part of my daily life.
The most important thing I would want others to know is that struggling with the after-effects of trauma doesn’t mean you are weak or inadequate or abnormal. Trauma is traumatic, and there is a wide range of responses. Seeking help is humbling, but also incredibly brave.
