Three F-words

Fight, Flight or Freeze. All responses to trauma. Three F-words for three distinct buckets of reactions to when we perceive we are in danger. Notice the use of the word “perceive”. It is there for a reason because I do not have to be facing death for my brain to believe I am in danger and act accordingly.

Fighting can mean the literal definition of the word. A use of force to escape death (or perceived death). It can also mean fighting against the truth, being in denial or refusal to accept the reality of your situation.

Flight is leaning into the escape from the pain. Some actually run away from the pain and flee the scene. Some drink (or whatever substance of choice) away the pain. The point of fleeing is avoiding the cards you have been dealt and essentially outrun the pain that is sure to follow.

Freezing is a newer addition to the F-word trio of responses, though it does not mean it is a new reaction. Freezing is playing dead. Flat-faced and disconnected from what is happening. Freezing stops you in your tracks and prevents you from feeling what is happening to you.

I’ve worked with trauma, personally and professionally, for many years. Again, notice my use of the words “worked with”. We do not fix or cure trauma; we work to alleviate the symptoms caused by traumatic experiences. There are many evidenced based interventions that have proven ways to treat reactions to trauma, however trauma is not cured. Trauma becomes a part of us.

I am certified in Accelerated Resolution Therapy (ART), which is an intervention that alleviates the symptoms of trauma. (Yes, actually dissolves the symptoms due to the traumatic experience). ART allows the individual to open up the part of the brain that decides which response has the best chance of survival. (Again, remember our brain has perceived a dangerous situation and self-preservation is the goal). ART allows us to change the emotions attached to the traumatic event. We keep the facts and we change our reaction. Now that we are away from the perceived danger, our brain allows us to change how the story was filed.

For example, when I participated in an ART intervention I used the experience of the night my father died and the emotions attached to that story. The experience, while intense, allowed me to let go of the fear associated with that loss. My father died 30 years ago. I remember every detail of the night when he was rushed to the hospital, even down to the memory of my father’s wedding band being on my mother’s finger when she came home from the hospital, which was the very first indicator he was gone. I remember it all. However, what I no longer carry is the fear associated with not having my father on this earth. Who would protect us? Who would provide for us? What does life look like without a dad?

ART allowed me to release the fear.

I miss my dad every day. There will always be grief in my heart for the man who raised me for fourteen years and taught me so much love. And after all this time, I can find peace with the grief being a part of me instead of the fear controlling me.

As a fourteen-year-old girl, I fought the reality of my father’s death. I fought the fear by trying to control it. I fought all the pain I felt by trying to be perfect in every other aspect of my life. If I could just make everything else be “okay” then I would not have to face the fear of being vulnerable, unprotected and the unknown instability of being down a parent.

Trauma does not need you to beat it. You merely have to learn to live with the trauma, accepting its place in your story. You by no means must accept the negative symptoms of trauma reactions. That is where interventions and treatment can be life-changing measures.

Very recently, I was triggered and experienced a trauma reaction. Not a welcomed experience nor one I have been forced to face for a long time. The experience caused me to freeze this time. My fear paralyzed me. For me, this frozen state looked like lack of emotion, disconnection with those close to me, sleepless nights and the inability to focus.

Because I had the experiences from my past and the knowledge of treating trauma reactions, I was able to identify these symptoms quickly and lean into what I know to be true: this too shall pass. I knew my brain had a perceived threat and chose to freeze as the best course of action for self-preservation. I leaned into the interventions that bring me back to a baseline and filter my thoughts instead of hanging onto the fears I know are not certain truth.

Life continues to happen all around us, all the time. Trauma and the possibility of triggers are not able to be controlled. The symptoms most certainly can be treated and alleviated. It’s not time that heals, it’s our intention to do so that does.

I share this today because trauma is complicated. There are so many interventions available to help. Instead of worrying about what’s the right one, start with your intention to heal. That is the most important decision of all. Trauma takes our control, and we can take it back just as long as we are willing to be vulnerable enough to ask for help.

Remembering My First Friend

Today, marks 10 years since my brother walked this earth. A milestone that requires acknowledge and his life, one that requires celebration.

My first friend.

My first enemy.

My first teacher of forgiveness.

Even when he drove me to the brink of insanity, I learned to accept him for who he was, not who I wanted him to be. It did not matter if I liked him every day, being my brother made me love him always. His love of basketball, his knowledge of all things sports, his genuineness as a human being and as a friend were only a few things he was well known for. Very early on, Derrick lived his life his way and did not require validation from anyone (a current goal of mine). Though I had imagined who he would be at the age of 35, 50 and 72 – that was not what his life was created for and that was never for me to determine.

Writing is my medicine. My source of healing. I empty words on a page and exhale the hurt in my soul. For the last four years, I put in the work to heal from the pain I experienced. I used writing, this tool that I love so much.

I exhaled a novel on some pages.

I created this blog to empty my thoughts into the world.

All of this with the hope that while I heal, maybe there is someone else who hurts like me and needs to read some words that speaks to them. Especially now, during this time of pain in our world, it’s important to find what heals us – what makes us feel connected to others. We are never alone if we are honest enough and brave enough to seek out a source of healing. None of us are fine and that is okay. Pain is temporary if you are willing to put in the work to let it go.

Find what heals you and do it!

When thinking about how to honor Derrick, I could not find the words I wanted to express the pain of losing this person I love. Then I realized I already had the words. I emptied them on pages of my novel and posts I shared with you. I will never be whole again without him, but I am finding ways to heal and honor this boy I watched grow into a man.

His love, his laugh and his giant presence will remain a void in my life always. But because of him, I love a little harder. I live a little more passionately. And I am grateful for the gift of knowing the love of my brother.

“I wake up to the sun creeping into my room. The distinct scent of a mix of fresh rain and a dash of lavender that hints to the night slipping away, lets me know it’s still early morning. The familiar aroma is welcoming to rise to. Inviting me to start my day, it is my first reminder of something beautiful in the world. However, today it’s my first reminder I am waking up in a world where my brother no longer exists. Upon this revelation, I grasp my chest because I can’t breathe. This new truth is choking out the life I had been accustom to. The life where he was there and always would be. Just yesterday, he was here. He was breathing and annoying me. Now he is gone. His room is empty and forever will be.” -From the Inside Out

“After becoming a therapist and a mother, my brother died of a drug overdose. Again, my core was shaken and my direction changed. Again, I had a new lens to see the world and had to find another way to forge down the path where new obstacles lay waiting for me. By this time, I was 30 with a new even more damaging set of coping skills I pulled from my tool belt to “handle” the pain of losing my first friend. Though my questions were different after this loss, the theme of blame remained the same. Why couldn’t I save him? Why didn’t I do more? However, as a good people-pleasing-caretaker, I sealed up all that blame, pain and sadness so I could be fine and attempt to continue down my familiar path. The problem was my life-lenses acted as beer goggles and I found myself fumbling and falling where I once floated.

What I have learned through all these experiences is the single worst thing I can do is be ‘fine’. When I am in pain and I am experiencing loss, I am far from fine. When I don’t give my experience and the stain it left on me the dignity of a name, and rather say ‘I’m fine’ my stain spreads. The original impact of the trauma is much worse if I can’t call out the fact I am hurting and I have been effected by what happened.

I’m not suggesting you have a full-on therapy session with the next person who asks how you are. However, instead of lying with ‘I’m fine’, chose something else. Literally ANYTHING else, because being ‘fine’ is not living.

Life has not been promised without pain. We do not get to skip through Candyland shooting rainbows out of our ass while riding a unicorn. Though, if we can be honest with ourselves and with those we love and trust, we have the ability to come back from anything and find peace in the most troubling situations.” -“I’m Not Fine and Neither Are You (Killinitlife.com)

Trauma

I’m Not Fine and Neither Are You

Trauma maybe the most relative term in the English language. And funny enough, ‘trauma’ is spelled the same in English, Spanish, German and Italian. However, I bet if we asked 100 people what trauma means to them, we would get 100 different answers.

For me, trauma is anything that stains my soul. Maybe that is gibberish to you, but it makes perfect sense to me. You don’t have to understand my trauma for it to be trauma. You may even think my trauma is no big deal. That does not negate the fact that it is trauma to me.

In my not-quite-40 years on this earth, I’ve lost my father, my brother, all of my grandparents, twin babies and my nephew. Throughout my almost 18+ year career as a social worker, I’ve witnessed, heard and carried the stories of victims of violent crimes, sexual assault, child abuse and neglect. (this is not a trauma resume – just bear with me). My soul has been stained by all. Some stains I was able to accept, process and move forward in a healthy way. Others – not so much.

What I have learned through all these experiences is the single worse thing I can do is be ‘fine’. When I am in pain and I am experiencing loss, I am far from fine. When I don’t give my experience and the stain it left on me the dignity of a name, and rather say ‘I’m fine’ my stain spreads. The original impact of the trauma is much worse if I can’t call out the fact I am hurting and I have been effected by what happened to me or what I witnessed.

I’m not suggesting you have a full-on therapy session with the next person who asks how you are. However, instead of lying with ‘I’m fine’, chose something else. Literally ANYTHING else, because being ‘fine’ is not living.

Life has not been promised without pain. We do not get to skip through Candyland shooting rainbows out of our ass while riding a unicorn. Though, if we can be honest with ourselves and with those we love and trust, we have the ability to come back from anything and find peace in the most troubling situations.

Tell someone you trust you are struggling. Admit when you are in pain. Ask for help when you need it. The holidays are difficult for MOST people. This is not a Christmas movie where everything is figured out with a beautiful bow tying up the end. But, we can take better care of ourselves by being honest and finding the people we can trust with our stains. Stay mindful of your soul and stay away from being ‘fine’.

Photo Credit: Photography by Angela Gross