trauma informed care

The Discomfort of Slowing Down

May 21, 2020 By gwynn

A huge part of recovery and life -is slowing down and accepting the unKNOWN. This is how you get to KNOW –yourself. ~Brittany Burgunder

A mind that is racing over worries about the future or recycling resentments from the past is ill equipped to handle the challenges of the moment. By slowing down, we can train the mind to focus completely in the present. Then we will find that we can function well whatever the difficulties. That is what it means to be stress-proof: not avoiding stress but being at our best under pressure, calm, cool, and creative in the midst of the storm. ~Eknath Easwaran, Take Your Time: The Wisdom of Slowing Down

Traumatized people chronically feel unsafe inside their bodies: The past is alive in the form of gnawing interior discomfort. Their bodies are constantly bombarded by visceral warning signs, and, in an attempt to control these processes, they often become expert at ignoring their gut feelings and in numbing awareness of what is played out inside. They learn to hide from their selves. ~Bessel A. van der Kolk, The Body Keeps the Score: Brain, Mind, and Body in the Healing of Trauma

I created a ritual/meditation practice for myself around Venus retrograde. There are four questions I’m exploring over the forty-two days of the retrograde cycle.

My intention is to move slowly through these questions and spend ten full days on each. Meditating on the cards that came up for each question. Writing stream of conscious about the themes of the cards and what else comes up for me around the questions.

Ten days.

After day two of the first question I wanted to move on to the next one.

I told myself I felt “bored.” That I had explored that question enough. That I was fine and could move on to the next thing. I didn’t need to spend a full ten days on that first question.

But that wasn’t totally accurate.

I know the feeling I was having. It was akin to anxiety.

It was definitely uncomfortable.

I wanted to get to the next thing. I didn’t want to stay in the thing I was in. It was starting to stress me out.

I had the same feeling in therapy a few days before. A feeling that tells me I’m on the edge of something big, a break through, a release, a deeper understanding, healing. It’s a feeling I want to run away from. I don’t like it. I don’t like being in that quiet, in that stillness, in the here and now present moment, allowing what needs to bubble up to bubble.

It is so uncomfortable. I want it to stop and go away. I don’t want to stay in it. I don’t want to let it run its course. I want it to just stop.

When we have complex trauma living in our bodies and minds, slowing down, being still, staying in the moment – all this can be incredibly uncomfortable. Staying focused on one thing, digging into one theme, going down into the depths of our own wounding… Being in our body, present to it, to the discomfort, to the visceral shifting that happens when we slow down and stay in this moment now.

It is uncomfortable as fuck.

And.

When we can sit in that discomfort, when we can stay present to it, allowing it to flow as it needs to… that is where our healing happens. That is where breaking patterns happens. That is where disrupting harmful cycles happens.

That’s why we do this work, right? To break the patterns and disrupt the cycles. To do differently than what was done before, what was done to us, what was done around us. To create relationships and a life and world that aren’t centered around our attachment wounds and trauma, but rather around liberation and mature love.

We are living in a world that has been in slow motion for the past few months. Our usual distractions unavailable. Needing to stay home, to not be in the doing-doing-doing of “normal” life. It has meant slowing down. Not being distracted and instead learning how to be present, in this moment, right now.

And for many, this has been highly activating.

Anxiety spiked. Feeling even less comfortable in your own skin. Being “antsy,” irritable.

Wanting so desperately for things to get back to “normal” while also knowing it won’t soon – and having this being that much more activating.

I invite us all to have compassion for ourselves. To acknowledge this time can be challenging and stirring up our “stuff”. To accept that the traumatic events we experienced in the past may be being activated in the present, and while that is not our fault, it is our responsibility to not perpetuate harm.

I invite us to explore the idea that this discomfort you are feeling can have benefits. It can be an opportunity to learn how to be be in it, with it, to allow it to flow. To do a little neural rewiring. To find ways of being in the quiet.

This isn’t easy. It’s not what I would call fun. It is intense work.

It asks us to learn self-compassion. It asks us to be gentle with ourselves. It asks us to take one moment at a time. It asks us to move outside our own comfort zone.

I’m finding myself pushing my own edges. Expanding. Finding the places where the next stage in my own growth and healing can happen.

I’m not enjoying it. And I know this work is important. When we are able to break patterns and disrupt cycles of harm in ourselves, that ripples out into the world. It ripples out in our relationships. We find ourselves being more gentle, with our Self and those in our lives. We soften, shedding the armor that once kept us safe but now keeps us isolated.

Learning to be still, to be present, to stop distracting ourselves from the discomfort of processing trauma and healing our wounds, is revolutionary work. As we shift and change ourselves we also shift and change the world. Doing this work, of being present, in the here and now, is anti-capitalist, anti-authoritarian, anti-oppression work. It is work that encourages relationship with our Self and helps us to learn to become more intimate with others.

This is how we create the world we want to live in, by starting with ourselves.

/../

This essay was originally published in my weekly-ish newsletter on May 17, 2020. It has been edited for publication here. To receive my most recent essays and learn of my current online offerings, you can subscribe here.

Communication & Complex Trauma

May 18, 2020 By gwynn

Listen with curiosity. Speak with honesty. Act with integrity. The greatest problem with communication is we don’t listen to understand. We listen to reply. When we listen with curiosity, we don’t listen with the intent to reply. We listen for what’s behind the words. ~Roy T. Bennett, The Light in the Heart

Anything that’s human is mentionable, and anything that is mentionable can be more manageable. When we can talk about our feelings, they become less overwhelming, less upsetting, and less scary. The people we trust with that important talk can help us know that we are not alone. ~Fred Rogers

The trauma said, “Don’t write these poems.
Nobody wants to hear you cry
about the grief inside your bones.”

But my bones said, “Tyler Clementi jumped
from the George Washington Bridge
into the Hudson River convinced
he was entirely alone.”

My bones said, “Write the poems.”
~Andrea Gibson,The Madness Vase

One of the most important parts of any relationship is communication. In order for there to be good communication, both people need to be able to express themselves verbally, in a relatively non-defensive and non-abusive or non-harmful manner. Both parties need to be able to take the risk of being vulnerable, of expressing their wants and needs. Both parties also need to be able to truly listen and hear what the other person is trying to communicate to us.

This of course makes sense. I believe this is what most of us strive for.

But it is so fucking hard in practice.

It’s challenging because we each have trauma coursing through our bodies, living in our nervous systems. We each received messaging, either overtly or subvertly, that our wants and needs don’t matter, that we should just be happy if someone loves us and not complain.

Many of us learned in one way or another that expressing our wants or needs is actually dangerous. Perhaps we were physically abused for crying or “whining.” Perhaps we witnessed siblings or one of our caregivers receiving violence for expressing themselves. Perhaps our bids for affection were met with coldness or further isolation. Perhaps we were ridiculed for being “sensitive” or “weak” or “soft.”

Regardless of the specific whys, we got the message loud and clear that expressing our wants and needs wasn’t okay, wasn’t acceptable, wasn’t safe.

So, it makes sense that as adults we have a very challenging time expressing our wants and needs.

It makes sense it is challenging.

It doesn’t make sense that we may (unconsciously) expect others to be mind readers.

How many times have you thought or said or heard “Well, if they loved me they’d know what’s wrong!”? Or “I shouldn’t have to tell you why I’m upset, you should know!”

This narrative is actually a cloak for our own hurt and fear that our own feelings don’t matter. That we don’t matter to the other person (and look, there’s proof! They can’t read our mind!). That we aren’t actually lovable.

Learning to communicate in productive, connecting ways takes practice. Lots of practice. It requires us to look at and work through some of our own wounding. It requires us to come into our bodies so we can have some felt sense around what is happening for us – if past wounds are being poked, if something new is growing, if it’s a combination of both (usually it’s a combination).

It takes practice to become curious and ask questions instead of making assumptions about what another person is thinking or feeling.

It takes practice to actually ask another person if they can meet a want or need of ours in that moments, instead of demanding it from them.

It takes practice communicating our desires and boundaries without expectations for how the other “should” respond.

This all takes practice. It takes patience, from all parties. It takes messing up and getting it all wrong. It takes a willingness to be vulnerable, to take some risks in sharing something a bit more intimate about ourselves.

This is what it means to break patterns and cycles. It requires us to actually do the very messy and challenging and uncomfortable work of disrupting these generations old ways of relating that cause harm, to the others, to our relationships, and ultimately to our Self.

It not glorious work. It isn’t fun. It can be painful. As we disrupt these patterns, we will likely lose people. There will be grief. There will be days we just don’t want to do it anymore.

And.

There will be days when we realize we are in a situation where once we would have lost our shit and here we are, relatively calm, figuring it out.

There will be days we feel such intense joy and happiness that all we can do is cry.

There will be days where we know, deep in our bones, how cherished we are, how loved we are, how lovable we are.

Both and.

Yes it is intense work. And in my personal experience, it is so intensely worth it.

/../

This essay was originally written for my weekly-ish newsletter on May 10, 2020. It has been edited for publication here. To receive my most recent essays and learn about my online offerings, you can subscribe here.

Breaking patterns, disrupting cycles, & accountability

April 20, 2020 By gwynn

Healing can only happen when people are willing to shift. ~Iyanla Vanzant

Much too often, our minds are used to somewhat efficiently excuse and justify old patterns, when the same energy and efforts could go towards the creating of new ones. Our society is, meanwhile, deeply enamored with technological creation, invention, and marvels. Many of these technological advancements assist with life as it is, however, the creation of new patterns of behavior and ways of life remains largely unexplored. ~Sabina Nore, 22 Triggers

True accountability is not only apologizing, understanding the impact your actions have caused on yourself and others, making amends or reparations to the harmed parties; but most importantly, true accountability is changing your behavior so that the harm, violence, abuse does not happen again. ~Mia Mingus

Looking back on my thirteen years of motherhood, there is so much I would do different, if I could go back in time and start all over again. There were so many mistakes. So much I got wrong. So many patterns and cycles that I continued. So many I am still working on breaking.

And.

There is so much I got right, and I would do it the same way again. There were patterns I have been able to break, cycles I have been able to disrupt.

It is the both and.

All our relationships are often like that.

There are moments we look back on and wish with every fiber of our being we had made another choice, done something different. And then there are the moments that we look back on and breathe a sigh of yes, that one, that I got right.

Hindsight is nearly always 20/20. Looking back we have a clearer view of those moments, the ones that mattered, the ones that didn’t. The ones that were defining, the ones that weren’t. The ones that didn’t feel significant at the time, but turned out to be. Those moments we didn’t know would be the last, the times we thought we would always have another chance, more time, but it didn’t turn out that way.

We all carry within us patterns and cycles passed on to us by our families of origin, by our genetic ancestors, and by our culture. We have a choice, to a certain degree, to break and disrupt those cycles, to create change, to do different than what was done to us, to do different than what was done before.

I say to a certain degree, because we can’t break a pattern unless we become aware of it. This requires not only our ability to look back at past generations, but also an ability to look objectively at ourselves.

We need to be able to see the ways we have perpetuated these cycles. The ways we have continued the patterns.

This requires us to have a certain level of self-awareness. I believe it also requires us to have the ability to give ourselves self-compassion, to not dive into shame spirals and defensiveness. To be able to explain the whys of the harm we ourselves have participated in, but not make excuses for it.

There are no excuses for causing harm to others, or ourselves for that matter. Regardless of what was done to us in the past. Regardless of what was done to our ancestors.

In order to break these patterns and cycles we need to be willing to hold ourselves accountable.

Accountability, has four basic components.** These are:

Self reflection
Apology
Repair
Changed behavior

**From Mia Mingus

We need to be willing, and able, to do all four. It requires our ability to be wrong, and to actually change our behavior in the future. And in order to change behaviors, we need to do the work of unraveling, untangling, and processing the trauma that lives within us.

It is not glamorous or fun work.

It is work most people avoid doing. I get it. I understand why. It is hard and brutal to process the trauma that lives within us. To do the accompanying grief work. To move into liminal space and unknown territory of doing different. Of making change.

Of actually breaking and disrupting, and not repeating and perpetuating, old patterns and cycles of harm.

Even in the this work of doing different, we will still get some things wrong. Which is why self-compassion is so important. Which is why accountability, and our own willingness to go deep within ourselves and look at our own shadows, is so important. Which is why we need to remember that we are all only human, to make space for forgiveness when appropriate (and I do not believe it is always appropriate).

I have spent the last thirteen years practicing accountability with my daughter. Believe me, there have been ample opportunities for me to practice! And almost daily there are more opportunities. I practice it with my son. I am learning to practice it with my friends and lovers.

Accountability is vulnerable. It is a vulnerable space to move into admitting we have caused harm and taking ownership of it. It requires that we be able to hold the disappointment, hurt, and or frustration that we caused, of someone we love; and it requires that we process our own grief that comes with it.

It all takes intention, practice, and time. Life will give us plenty of opportunities. A vital piece is remembering the importance of doing our own work of breaking the patterns and cycles still alive in us, in between each new opportunity.

This is how we create change in the world :: by doing our individual work and the work of healing and creating a loving relationships with those in our lives. It means we will each be in the wrong, and this needs to be okay in the sense that we accept our responsibility and do the work of repair and change.

/../

This essay was originally published in my weekly(ish) newsletter on April 12, 2020. It has been edited for publication here. To receive my most recent essays, you can subscribe here.

We’ll be exploring these ideas in the seven week course Embodied Writing :: Relating, Relationships, & Trauma. You can learn more and register here.

The importance of connecting during isolation

April 2, 2020 By gwynn

A human being is a part of the whole called by us universe, a part limited in time and space. He experiences himself, his thoughts and feeling as something separated from the rest, a kind of optical delusion of his consciousness. This delusion is a kind of prison for us, restricting us to our personal desires and to affection to a few persons nearest to us. Our task must be to free ourselves from this prison by widening our circle of compassion to embrace all living creatures and the whole of nature in its beauty. ~Albert Einstein

When people go within and connect with themselves, they realize they are connected to the universe and they are connected to all living things. ~Armand Dimele

We cultivate love when we allow our most vulnerable and powerful selves to be deeply seen and known, and when we honor the spiritual connection that grows from that offering with trust, respect, kindness and affection.

Love is not something we give or get; it is something that we nurture and grow, a connection that can only be cultivated between two people when it exists within each one of them – we can only love others as much as we love ourselves. ~Brene Brown, The Gifts of Imperfection

As most of us across the globe are in physical isolation to help flatten the curve of the COVID-19 global pandemic, we are all adjusting to new and different ways of connecting with those we care about. Zoom has seen a massive uptick in usage, as well as phone apps like WhatsApp and MarcoPolo. We are learning the importance of these connections as the option to see folks in person is not advisable or safe.

We humans are social beings. We are meant to live in community and to connect to each other regularly. Our very survival once depended on it and our brains and epigenetic memory haven’t forgotten this.

For some of us, we normally live in relative isolation. We only go out once or twice a week, if that often or we rarely socialize outside of work. This means that having this already limited time of interaction with others removed as a possibility for an unknown period of time can have our feelings of isolation and anxiety skyrocket.

I know this has been true for me.

I like to be “alone with people.” This looks like me going to my favorite pub, sitting in a booth alone and working (and eating and drinking too), while others around me talk and laugh and socialize. It gives my introverted self a sense of connection and community and protects my INFJ self from needing to partake in small talk. I also go to the beach and usually see a couple people, we wave at each other or say hello and go about our business. It is very limited interaction, and yet I find it an important part of my own connection to humanity and it helps with my own sense of belonging and community.

(This is not to say I don’t go out with friends, I do, and not all that frequently because introvert and life is just full).

Having this very limited amount of community removed as an option for me has been intense.

What this has meant is me pushing myself outside my own comfort zone. I have joined two different online groups; groups with people I have never met. And I am actually making myself participate. I’m joining the calls. I’m connecting the FB groups and on the group Marco Polo. I’m putting myself out into the world in a way I don’t normally.

It is uncomfortable as hell.

And it is absolutely totally necessary for my own mental health.

Connecting to others, in whatever ways we can, is important. We can still maintain our boundaries, we can still honor our introverted parts (for those of us who have them).

And presently we need to be finding new and different ways of connecting. What the looks like will be different for each of us. What is important is that we are connecting. That we are having our needs for a sense of belonging met. That we are finding ways to sooth our anxiety and co-regulate. That we are connecting with faces and voices outside our own four walls (whether we live with others or not).

It is vital in this time of physical isolation to remember and be reminded that we are part of a greater world. That our global community needs us active in it. Human interaction is important to help us with processing our own attachment wounds and complex trauma – and not just therapists, but in finding our people who we can come together with and have our needs for connection met.

We need to be in relationship in order to find ways of healing our relational wounding and exploring new ways of relating. We can’t heal our attachment wounds in isolation. We can’t process our complex trauma alone. We can’t experiment with new ways of being in relationship if we aren’t relating with others.

May we all find our ways to social connections during this time of physical isolation that are nourishing, fulfilling, and meaningful.

/../

This essay was originally published in my weeklyish newsletter on March 30, 2020. It has been revised and edited for publication here. To receive my most current essays, you can subscribe here.

Managing our stress & anxiety in challenging times

March 19, 2020 By gwynn

The bodies of traumatized people portray “snapshots” of their unsuccessful attempts to defend themselves in the face of threat and injury. Trauma is a highly activated incomplete biological response to threat, frozen in time. For example, when we prepare to fight or to flee, muscles throughout our entire body are tensed in specific patterns of high energy readiness. When we are unable to complete the appropriate actions, we fail to discharge the tremendous energy generated by our survival preparations. This energy becomes fixed in specific patterns of neuromuscular readiness. The person then stays in a state of acute and then chronic arousal and dysfunction in the central nervous system. Traumatized people are not suffering from a disease in the normal sense of the word- they have become stuck in an aroused state. It is difficult if not impossible to function normally under these circumstances. ~Peter A. Levine

Unspeakable feelings need to find expression in words. However… verbalization of very intense feelings may be a difficult task. ~James A. Chu, Rebuilding Shattered Lives: Treating Complex PTSD and Dissociative Disorders

There is no one way to recover and heal from any trauma. Each survivor chooses their own path or stumbles across it. ~Laurie Matthew, Behind Enemy Lines

We are living in an unprecedented time. The current COVID-19 pandemic is having us “socially distance” from each other, while (in the US at least) schools, community centers, and libraries are closing their doors. We are being encouraged to stay at least six feet from other humans, to work from home, to “self-quarantine” while also receiving messages to go out and support local restaurants and other service based businesses, leaving us confused as to what is best for ourselves, our families, and our communities in general.

Add to this we have social media. And the internet. Which means access to information literally 24/7. This can be soothing to some and activating to others. The greater issue is the sometimes conflicting and misinformation.

This is all activating our survival response. This is all exacerbating our anxiety. This is all stressful and leaves us in a state of not being clear on what we should or shouldn’t be doing (other than washing our hands).

And.

Our need for connection, for belonging, is also increased right now. Our bodies are wired to be in community and groups when crisis arises. So when we are unable to connect to our communities, fear around our own survival (subconsciously and consciously) sets in.

Part of our fear response is denial. Denial that things are “that bad.” Denial that this crisis will affect us. Denial that we need to worry about it at all.

As a whole we are on a spectrum between denial (fear suppression) and holy fuck we’re all gonna die (full on fear overwhelm).

I write all that, to try and help normalize what your personal response is. What is happening for you. How we can be vacillating between being completely annoyed by this all to being completely terrified. How we simply feel lost in it all, are trying so hard to figure out what our new normal looks like and to accept that we don’t know how long this new normal will be for.

This is all deeply stressful.

For those of us with complex trauma, for those of us who need routine and stability and predictability, this is beyond unsettling.

This means that our practices of soothing and calming our nervous system are vital. Whatever they may be.

It means taking time to breathe. To rest. To be present with our people now.

It means allowing all the complex and sometimes conflicting feelings (emotions and sensations) to come through. To not deny our experience. To acknowledge where we are in this moment. Where ever that may be.

It means having compassion for our Self, our loved ones, and our communities, as we navigate this “new normal” and figure out what does and doesn’t work for us, our families, and the greater collective.

It means knowing that we are going to get some things wrong. It means those we love are going to get some things wrong. It means those we trust and respect are going to get some things wrong.

It means we are all stumbling. Trying to figure out how to support ourselves, our families, our friends, our communities.

It means there are no absolutely right or absolutely wrong answers or ways of being right now.

It means we are living in liminal space.

Which, whoa, our activated nervous systems DO NOT LIKE.

I invite you to allow yourself to stop. To take a breath or a beat to allow yourself to not be in reaction mode. To stop and just allow yourself to be, just for a moment. To stop and not make a single decision, just for a moment.

Remember to care for yourself. Remember that we absolutely can NOT be of service to anyone if we are in a state of constant overwhelm and or burn out. Remember that our families, our communities, and our own bodies and minds, need us to be caring for our self.

Self care is NOT selfish. It is necessary for survival.

It is especially necessary during times of crisis. Like now.

There is no “under-reacting” or “over-reacting” right now. These are unprecedented times. We absolutely do not know what to expect in the long or even short run. Our fear response is both valid and understandable AND needs to be managed (not suppressed, managed).

Reminding ourselves as best we can to create that pause between stimulus and response is important right now. Sometimes we will be able to do it and other times not. And that is okay.

Reminding ourselves to have compassion for ourselves AND others is important right now. Sometimes we will be able to and other times not. And that is okay.

Reminding ourselves that all our complicated, complex, and contradictory feelings are valid is important right now. Sometimes we will be able to do this and other times not. And that is okay.

Giving ourselves permission to show up as fully human, that is what matters. To let go of shame and shaming as much as we can.

We are truly all in this together. AND we need to take care of ourselves as we take care of each other. Be gentle. Be loving. Be kind. Be compassionate. Towards others, and most especially to your Self.

In rebellious solidarity, always.
xoox

/../

This essay was originally written for my weeklyish newsletter on March 15, 2020. It has been edited for publication here. To receive my recent essays, subscribe here.

If you are looking for resources and tools to help you regulate your system during this time, I invite you to explore our offering at Trauma & Co, Resourcing in Complex Times and or our Trauma & Co Community.

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