For many complex trauma survivors, there may not be what we recognize as a “smoking gun” of trauma in our past.
We may not be able to point to something specific in our past and say, “that was my trauma.”
The very nature of complex trauma is, it was pain and stress that we adapted to. We had to. It was our everyday life.
Complex trauma, by definition, unfolds over time, entwines with our relationships, and is functionally inescapable. It may not resemble the “flash bulb” drama of what we think of as “trauma”— it does its damage in more protected, often more nuanced ways.
Sometimes we even struggle to identify straightforward abuse we experienced as “trauma,” when the abuse was just…part of our everyday, or every night, existence.
We ask ourselves, was it really “trauma” if I consistently got up the next morning and had breakfast with my abuser?
We ask ourselves, was it really “trauma” if I got good grades, got into grad school?
We ask ourselves, was it really “trauma,” when I was actually the “good kid,” who played my role in the sh*t show that was my family?
We ask ourselves, was it really “trauma”— or do I just need to suck it up?
I am consistently frustrated by how the word “trauma” can get so many survivors up in our head about whether what happened to us “counts.”
(As you can imagine, the word “survivor” often does the same thing.)
We hear “trauma” and we think war. We think “shell shock.” We think vivid flashbacks of world-changing events.
Complex trauma survivors do experience flashbacks— pretty often, actually— but it’s frequently not like the flashbacks associated in the popular mind with “traditional” trauma.
Complex trauma survivors’ flashbacks are often emotional and somatic.
We get yanked back into the past emotionally. We reexperience what we endured in our body. It happens often. It’s disruptive and painful.
And yet: we doubt what we experienced was “trauma,” that would necessitate working a “recovery.”
No. It’s not all about “denial.”
A lot of it is, we’ve been conditioned to minimize what we experienced and belittle our own reactions.
We’ve been conditioned to assume, if we’re having a hard time, it’s our fault.
We’ve been conditioned to believe that, unless it’s a public, violent event, it’s not real “trauma”— and considering it cause to have to work a “recovery” is just dramatic.
Listen to me: I don’t care if you do or don’t identify with the words “trauma” or “survivor.”
I don’t care if you have conflicted feelings about whether what you experienced “should” produce the reactions and symptoms it does in you.
What I care about is you getting into and working your recovery.
Or, you know, whatever you want to call it.
Here’s what happened: you were conditioned by your experiences, whatever they were, to believe, think, feel, and do certain things.
If you wanna believe, think, feel, and do different things, it’s gonna take more than a therapy “breakthrough.” It’s gonna take daily steps. It’s gonna take consistency. You don’t just plant a tree, say “TREE!”, and expect a tree to appear.
We’ve gotta talk to ourselves in different ways. We’ve gotta constantly visualize specific things. We’ve gotta literally teach our body to breathe in specific ways.
That is: we’ve gotta work our recovery.
You can do that without call it “trauma” or “recovery” if you want. As I say, I’m not especially attached to either term. Ditto “survivor.”
What I care about is your quality of life.
I call it woking a recovery.
You call it whatever you need to call it to make it palatable to you.
Use Your Damn Skills 