Category: trauma

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Shame, complex trauma, & relating with others

Shame is a soul eating emotion. ~Carl Gustav Jung

Shame corrodes the very part of us that believes we are capable of change. ~Brene Brown, I Thought It Was Just Me: Women Reclaiming Power and Courage in a Culture of Shame

Indifference and neglect often do much more damage than outright dislike. ~J.K. Rowling, Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix

If we turn away from our own pain, we may find ourselves projecting this aversion onto others, seeing them as somehow inadequate for being in a troubled situation. ~Sharon Salzberg, Real Love: The Art of Mindful Connection

When we live with complex trauma in our minds and bodies, relating to others in ways that are not harmful is complicated and challenging. We need to be incredibly self aware, to be able to analyze when we feel activated if what we are feeling is because of the other person or because of our past or some combination of the two. And there are times when we stumble and fail, and our trauma gets the best of us.

We may feel shame when that happens. Shame that we lost our shit, again. Shame that we are “broken.” Shame that we can’t just be “normal.”

In addition to this, many of us carry general shame around the abuse or neglect we experienced. We may feel it was our fault or we could have prevented it somehow. We may feel embarrassed about what was done to us. We may feel “tainted” or “damaged.”

And of course there is the guilt that quickly turns to shame around the harm we caused another person in the present.

Shame is a part of living with complex trauma. Shame for the past. Shame for the present. Shame for a future that only looks bleak.

This shame isn’t ours to carry, though.

It was not our fault, what happened to us.

We are not responsible for the actions of others.

We are only responsible for our own actions.

And.

With this truth that we are responsible for our actions, and any harm we may cause others, it is also true that we need to have compassion for ourselves, compassion for the young children living in us who didn’t get compassion or love, compassion for the ways we are still in the midst of processing and healing, compassion for our humanity and the reality that we will each fuck up.

What matters, to me, and according to Attachment Theory, is not whether we cause harm (because we all will), but rather the ways we work towards repair, atonement, amends.

It is how we handle the aftermath of our “losing our shit” that matters.

Shame would have us hiding out. Pretending what happened didn’t happen. Not addressing the harm. Ignoring it.

Shame would have us defensive. Making excuses. Placing blame on others for our own actions.

Shame would have us causing further damage to the relationship, both with the other and with our own integrity, values, and Self.

Shame, and all the aspects of our complex trauma, causes harm. To our Self. To our relationships. When we are able to connect to our shame, to get to its roots, to find ways to calm it and soothe it, to offer it and ourselves compassion, we begin the vital repair work in our relationship with our Self.

As we are able to repair our relationship with our Self, to find compassion and understanding for the whys of the ways we are in the world, we also create space to work on the repair in our other relationships.

Having compassion for our Self and the harm we have caused another does not “let us off the hook.” We can never use our own traumatic experiences as an excuse to allow us to harm others or to not make the important repairs necessary to rebuild and strengthen our relationships.

This compassion doesn’t make it okay to be abusive, neglectful, or to try to ignore the ways we have damaged another and our relationships.

This compassion does give us a lens to look through, at our Self. To see all, or at least some of, the hurt we carry within us. To see the ways this hurt comes out and impacts others in our lives. To see where our work is, where we can begin the next layer of our own untangling and unraveling.

We will each inevitably cause harm to the people we love. This is, unfortunately, currently part of being human. However, while it is inevitable we will cause harm, it is our choice what we do after.

If we choose repair, with both our Self and the other, we are making the brave, and terrifying, decision to break generations old patterns and cycles, to take down the status quo one relationship at a time. This choice not only brings change within our smaller world, it has ripple effects that will create change in our greater social structure.

The more we are able to intimately, and vulnerably, relate with those we care most about, the more the way we look at relationships with all other humans will also shift. These shifts will also impact and influence others.|

One relationship at a time.

One fuck up at a time.

One repair at a time.

/../

This essay was originally published to my weekly(ish) newsletter on January 20, 2020. It has been edited and revised for publication here. To receive my most recent essays, you can subscribe here.

We will be exploring shame and how it impacts us and our relationships in Embodied Writing :: Too much, not enough, & shame. We begin Monday, January 27, 2020 and registration will close on Sunday January 26 at 10pm PST. To learn more and register, click here.

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Our shame narratives

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.

Shame, blame, disrespect, betrayal, and the withholding of affection damage the roots from which love grows. Love can only survive these injuries if they are acknowledged, healed and rare. ~Brené Brown, The Gifts of Imperfection

We all carry with us narratives from our families of origin, narratives from our communities, narratives from our greater culture.  The stories of how we are too much this or not enough that.  The stories about how we should feel shame for what we want, what we do, who we are, that we even exist in the first place.

These narratives didn’t come to us out of the blue.  These are stories that have been cultivated for generations and generations, by a greater culture that sees humans as a commodity to be used, but not respected.  These stories stem from capitalism, authoritarianism, patriarchy, misogyny.  These stories stem from those in power wanting to stay in power and doing whatever they can to keep everyone else in line and doing their bidding.

That is where those stories come from on a meta level.  That is how they seep into our communities.  Into our families. Into our relationships.  Into us.

It is true that our own experiences of abuse feed these stories.  Complex trauma only makes those voices louder, only makes the stories seem more true.

And.

I would argue that the abuse of children – sexual, physical, neglect – all stem from this meta source.  

Why else would children be beaten if not to be forced to fall in line with the status quo?

Why else would children be molested if not because the abusers were indoctrinated in the idea that children exist to serve others, in any and all capacities?

Why else would children be neglected if the adults weren’t so busy trying to stay alive within a culture that wants to kill them?

I am not dismissing the responsibility of the abusers for their own actions.  Regardless of our own experiences of oppression and abuse we are always responsible for how we treat others in the world and whether or not we perpetuate harm.

What I am saying is that these narratives are fed to us from many, many different places.  Hearing these narratives is inescapable.  If it’s not our family, or our Self that’s telling us how we are too much or not enough and should feel shame, our greater culture definitely is.  

These stories are fed to us, from birth.  These stories seep into under skin, into our muscles, our sinew, our bones.  These stories keep us small, quiet, complicit, compliant.

These stories keep us stuck in harmful (to us and others) patterns and cycles.  

These stories impact the ways we relate to others.  They have us judging.  They have us expecting.  They have us assuming.  They have us demanding.

These stories keep us disconnected from our Self.  Our true self.  Our tend, broken open heart, Self.  The self that knows, in its very being these narratives are total bullshit.  The Self that asks over and over, why do you keep believing these lies?

Because a truth is, we are not too much.

A truth is, we are exactly enough.

A truth is, we get to take up space.  And there is plenty of space for everyone.

A truth is, we get to state our wants, whatever they are, without shame. 

A truth is, we get to have our boundaries respected.  

A truth is, we are exactly enough just as we are.

A truth is, we can do the work of untangling all this cultural indoctrination and trauma.

Let’s do it.  Let’s undo the generations of training we have living in our bodies and minds.  Let’s begin to feel good in our own skin.  Let’s find our ways to connection, real connection, without losing pieces of ourselves in the process.

We can do it.  I know we can.  

/../

This essay was originally published in my weeklyish newsletter on January 14, 2020. To receive my most recent essays you can subscribe here.

We will be exploring these narratives in my seven week writing course Embodied Writing :: Too much, not enough, & shame. We begin Monday, January 27, 2020. To learn more and register, click here.

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Trauma & releasing shame

Shame corrodes the very part of us that believes we are capable of change. ~Brene Brown,I Thought It Was Just Me: Women Reclaiming Power and Courage in a Culture of Shame

Shame is a soul eating emotion. ~Carl Gustav Jung

So often survivors have had their experiences denied, trivialized, or distorted. Writing is an important avenue for healing because it gives you the opportunity to define your own reality. You can say: This did happen to me. It was that bad. It was the fault & responsibility of the adult. I was—and am—innocent. ~Ellen Bass, The Courage to Heal: A Guide for Women Survivors of Child Sexual Abuse

One of the ironies of trauma, is that for those of us who have experienced it, particularly relational trauma, we feel shame.  We, the victims, the survivors, the ones who were harmed, feel the shame of the experience.  We carry the burden of being “tainted” or “damaged” or “broken.”  

This shame often leads us to silencing ourselves, even if the perpetrator didn’t specifically tell us not to talk about what happened.  We don’t tell when the abuse is happening or immediately after the assault occurred.  We don’t tell the story because we are afraid of what people will think, what they will say, how they will respond.

We don’t tell because we somehow think what happened was our fault.  That we somehow encouraged the other person to harm us, that if only we’d done x or hadn’t done y.

When we are living in shame, and unable to share our stories, we are also unable to deeply connect with others.  We don’t allow ourselves to be truly
seen and so intimacy, deep emotional intimacy, isn’t possible.  

Sometimes though, it’s not only others that we can’t share our stories with.  Sometimes we can’t admit our own stories to ourselves.  Or we can admit parts of them, but not others.  Or we can acknowledge the stories but are unable to examine them, explore them, become curious about the ways these events from our lives are still impacting us today. 

The events from our past do impact us in our present, and will continue to, until we are able to dig into our own unconscious and automatic reactions, including the stories we have about being too much and not enough.  

Shame runs rampant in those stories.  I think most of us can make a long list of all the ways we aren’t enough (not smart enough, not pretty enough, not vocal enough, not articulate enough, not successful enough…) as well as all the ways we are too much (too loud, too sexual, too smart, too large, too picky…).  We are never “right;” there is always something “wrong” with us, something that needs to be “fixed.”

Trauma does this to us.  Our culture does this to us.  And often times, intentionally or now, our families of origin do this to us.  Unearthing, unraveling, examining these stories is no easy feat.  And doing it while remaining present in our bodies can be even more complex.

Shame comes with trauma.  Releasing the shame takes intention, time, practice and requires us to come into our bodies, examining our histories and our stories and seeing how they impacted us, and how that isn’t our fault.

Because what was done to us, what happened to us was not, and is not, our fault.

And.

Changing patterns, cycles, and harmful behaviors we have because of these experiences is our responsibility so we do not continue to pass trauma on to future generations.

/../

This essay was originally published to my weekly(ish) newsletter on January 14, 2019. It has been revised and edited for publication here. To receive my most recent essays you can subscribe to my newsletter here.

We will be exploring our stories of being too much, not enough, and the shame that comes with all that in the seven week program Embodied Writing :: Too Much, Not Enough, & Shame. We begin on Monday, January 27, 2020. There is a sliding scale fee. Learn more and register here.

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Dysregulation, compassion, & finding equilibrium

When you have a persistent sense of heartbreak and gutwrench, the physical sensations become intolerable and we will do anything to make those feelings disappear. And that is really the origin of what happens in human pathology. People take drugs to make it disappear, and they cut themselves to make it disappear, and they starve themselves to make it disappear, and they have sex with anyone who comes along to make it disappear and once you have these horrible sensations in your body, you’ll do anything to make it go away.
~Bessel A. van der Kolk

The only consistent thing about living as a human being is that change is inevitable.

Sometimes the changes that come our way are out of our control.  

Sometimes the changes that come our way we do not consent to.

Sometimes the changes that come our way stem from our own choices.

Sometimes the changes that come our way are our own choice, and still we may wish they didn’t happen.

Life is complex and rarely stagnant.

When big changes come our way, they can throw us off kilter.  Our systems may become dysregulated. Our old traumas may be triggered.  The change itself could be traumatic in its own way. This can happen even when a change is of our own conscious choosing.  

I have witnessed that basic human response to change, sometimes even to changes of our own choosing, is to fight like hell to return to the status quo – the way things were before the change.  This fight is almost always a losing battle.

The dysregulation our systems experience when change happens is inevitable.  Systems theory confirms that when a change happens within a system, the parts of the system will do all they can to find equilibrium again.  Sometimes we call this “finding our new normal” when it comes to the changes that come into our lives.  Until we find this equilibrium however, our systems, including our nervous systems, will be agitated. 

Change happens.  Dysregulation happens.  It is how we move through the changes, how we find our ways back to equilibrium, or our new normals, that matters.  How we do this is up to us and frankly is unique to each person and each situation.

And.

What I would love all of us to remember, including myself, is to have some compassion for the dysregulation that is an inevitable part of being human.  To have compassion for ourselves as we find our ways to the new normal of each new change in our lives.  To have some compassion for trying things and feeling like failing and trying different things until we are able to figure out what works for us. 

This is true even when the changes we experience are of our own choosing, are welcome, perhaps even wanted. It will still take time for us to find our feet again, to find that “new normal,” to get back to our equilibrium. 

Reminding ourselves that we are trying to find our way back to a “steady state” as we shift through a major or even minor life change is important, and is part of where our self-compassion comes in.  Giving ourselves the grace of knowing we are doing the best we can with the resources we have.  Slowing down to allow ourselves to feel the myriad of emotions that may be coming forward, some possibly expected and some probably not.  

We are all complex beings, and our life experiences are complex.  Sometimes change is welcome, and even in this welcoming for a short period the change will cause some amount of chaos and dysregulation.  Remember to be gentle with you.  Remember to give yourself time and space to breathe and feel all the feelings you are having.  Remember to be patient with yourself.  And most importantly remember to have compassion for yourself as you stumble along finding your ways to your own new normal. 

/../

This was originally written for my weekly(ish) newsletter on July 15, 2018. It has been revised and edited for publication here. To receive my most recent essays you can subscribe here.

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The space between stimulus & response

Human freedom involves our capacity to pause between the stimulus and response and, in that pause, to choose the one response toward which we wish to throw our weight. The capacity to create ourselves, based upon this freedom, is inseparable from consciousness or self-awareness. ~Rollo May, The Courage to Create

Creating that space between stimulus and response is not an easy feat.  It takes practice and intention.  Those of us who live with trauma and highly activated sympathetic nervous systems (fight/flight), have a very clear understanding of how challenging it can be to create that space.  To shift our ways of being from a wounded animal who simply lashes out at anyone or thing that comes near them to a more self aware and thoughtful response that is not fully based on our triggered emotional state. 

Creating this space isn’t about not feeling our emotions and sensations.  Instead it is about slowing down how we react to these emotions and sensations.  It is slowing down when we are in a state of overwhelm and considering what all is contributing to those feelings, what we actually have control of, and how we want to be in these moments.

Most of us living with complex trauma not only have activated nervous systems that are either on extra high or extra low alert (or alternate between the two at rapid pace), we also have a visceral sense of not being heard.  Those of us who experienced childhood trauma either were convinced to keep the “secret” by our abuser, or we told people and either they didn’t believe us, told us we were making it up, or told us to not complain and that it ‘wasn’t that bad’. 

So not only do we have activated systems that see almost everything as a threat, we don’t know how to express our feelings – emotions and sensations – in a way that can be received by another.  We either snap and yell or we totally shut down and “cut off” by not speaking or interacting with the person who we feel caused us harm.  These reactions are automatic in some ways and they can be slowed down, we can slow ourselves down, and shift from the automatic reaction to a more intentional response. 

It takes time and a willingness to practice self-regulation skills to come into your body.  It won’t happen over night.  We will all fall back on old habits from time to time.  And these shifts in being can happen.

The shifts in our ways of being in the world aren’t always neat or easy or even pleasant.  Sometimes the slowing down process can be incredibly uncomfortable.  

We need to be willing to sit a bit in the unknown of shifting and transforming.  To have the courage to move from the comfort of what we know into the possibilities of what is unknown to us outside of our imagination. 

We were all raised in environments that taught us how to interact with others, either by example of how the adults treated each other or by how the adults treated us as children.  These patterns and ways of being were likely passed down through generations.  These cycles are entrenched in our psyches as well as our cellular memories.  They run deep.

And.

We can break the patterns and cycles that have been passed down to us.  We can shift our ways of being.  We do not need to allow what has happened to us to define us or how we are in the world.

Yes, there are things we cannot change.  Yes, this is not easy work.  

And.

We can learn to calm and regulate our nervous system.  We can learn to create that space between stimulus and response.  We can learn to experience our feelings and to express them without causing harm to ourselves or to others.

It takes time, intention, and practice.  It requires a willingness to live in that unknown in-between space that is so uncomfortable.  We need to develop our self compassion.  

Because at the end of the day we all need each other.  So learning how to be in relationship with others, while maintaining boundaries, is an important part of our work.

/../

This essay was originally published in my weekly(ish) newsletter on July 8, 2018. It has been revised and edited for publication here. To receive my most recent essays you can subscribe here.