
Complex trauma is more than just “a bad thing happened.”
It can involve catastrophic trauma or loss— but often doesn’t.
Our culture is relatively better at recognizing catastrophic “flashbulb” trauma— the kind of trauma that is overt, observable, and changes everything— than complex trauma.
Complex trauma is very often hidden.
People enduring complex trauma are often effortfully trying to keep it a secret.
Many people enduring complex trauma don’t even know that’s what is happening.
One thing that makes complex trauma “complex” is that it is inescapable— or, at least, we experience it as inescapable.
An example of this is the kid who is being abused at home. Very often, when we’re kids, we can’t opt out of our family— even if we’re being abused.
Another example is if we’ve been sucked into a cult or high control community. While it may be technically, theoretically possible to escape, very often the group has social, economic, or spiritual leverage over us that makes leaving realistically impossible.
Another characteristic of complex trauma is that it occurs over time.
Catastrophic “flashbulb” trauma often occurs in an instant— there is an easily identifiable “before” and “after.” One minute the World Trade Center was standing; the next, it wasn’t.
Complex trauma often doesn’t have such well defined beginnings and endings. More often it occurs over the long term. A common example is familial abuse— or spousal abuse that occurs or escalates over the course of years.
It’s relatively easer to observe the changes in our nervous system before and after a catastrophic “flashbulb” event— but when the trauma is happening day after day, and we’re forced to adapt to it (and, often hide it) day after day, it’s harder to see how our nervous system is changing day after day, year after year.
A third characteristic of complex trauma is that it often entwines with our most important relationships.
One of the reasons why abuse or neglect by a parent or caretaker is particularly harmful— and complex— is because parents aren’t just anyone. They’re the people who are supposed to love and protect you, more than anyone else.
Abuse by a spiritual guru, clergy member, therapist, or professional mentor is similarly harmful and complex, because they’re not strangers— they are people who are intimately involved with important domains in our life.
A fourth characteristic of complex trauma— which I think is often overlooked in discussions of CPTSD— is that it almost always involves betrayal.
The people who should have had our back, didn’t.
The people who were supposed to give us the benefit of the doubt, didn’t.
The people who were supposed to be on our side, weren’t.
There are many examples of trauma of varying complexity out there, and there might be examples of complex trauma that don’t check the boxes I’ve outlined here— but for my money, these four are the most common, most important characteristics of complex trauma.
Our culture hasn’t caught up to the differences between “classic” (catastrophic, “flashbulb”) trauma and complex trauma.
Very often complex traumatic stressors are brushed off as consequences of “choices” made by victims.
Our culture very much doesn’t like the idea of trauma that is not as easily identifiable or treatable as “flashbulb” trauma.
But once you learn what complex trauma is, and you realize how embedded in the culture it is, how prevalent it is out in the world— and potentially in your own life— you can’t un-see it.
I know. But breathe; blink; and focus.
