Written from his well-researched viewpoint, VanDerKolk gives an in-depth analysis of trauma and how it impacts the full package - the physical body as well as the mind. There is just too much for me to discuss, and truly, I need to just buy my own copy and re-read it (I borrowed it from the public library).
There were many times that I just sat and cried. My tears were mostly for my daughter; trauma has hijacked her brain and body, and even now as I type it, my heart is cracking in two at the thought of all the relentless, repeating pain for that kid.
It's such a damn rip-off. One traumatic incident or event is all it takes to throw someone's life trajectory in a completely different, destructive, and certainly limiting direction. And that's just one traumatic incident. The staggering significance of multiple, compound, and even regular trauma is incredibly sobering and so very sad.
Fortunately, there are many talented, thoughtful, and perceptive practioners like VanDerKolk, but what about the newbs or the straight-up crapheads (like Dr. Norman, the bozo that I had to deal with almost 30 years ago). These people can do even more damage. Ugh. The responsibility that accompanies the title of therapist is clear. These people need to be moral, compassionate human beings - of the utmost integrity. Like I said, too much thinking.
But as I wander the maze of trauma and its effects, I just found myself, face-first, in a wall. The thought that stopped me cold in my tracks is that the worst reality in the world would be to learn that I have been the source of trauma for someone, most specifically, someone's first disappointment or experience with trauma. Being the one who destroyed someone's child-like innocence. Being the one who derailed someone else's train - for life.
The thought of it causes a pain in my heart. Literally.
I know what that was like for me. Although I don't remember the first time, I do remember traumatic incidents from my childhood. Every time it happened, a wall around my heart was erected and/or fortified, and there were just certain people who were no longer allowed to cross over that wall. Even today, there is a barrier, one that I am unwilling to tear down.
The first time it happens, it's a bewildering feeling in which you learn that the person you trusted is no longer trustworthy. That person is not the picture you had created in your head and heart. As adults, betrayal, disappointment. . .well, this is life. It happens all the time. And as you age, you get savvier (at least, most of us do) about people - about the concept of keeping someone at arm's length to protect yourself.
But as a child. . .you just naturally trust everybody. You think of the world as a place filled with all good guys (and girls) in white Stetsons. You don't worry because you know that all adults will catch you when you fall, protect you from harm, and love you. And then. It happens. Trauma. And suddenly a part of the child's skull is cracked or crushed in. The damage is done. Nothing can be done. The scar, the distortion, the damage is there for life.
God, I hope and pray that I have never been responsible for doing that to any child or adult. Even now, I am crying as I write this. The thought that I have caused anyone such irreparable pain is more than I can bear. Lord, I hope I will not be standing before God someday, having to answer for things so horrific.
And yet, I'm sure I have left my mark - and not a good one - on people throughout my lifetime. Elementary, junior high, and high school friends and acquaintenances, customer service reps on the phone, colleagues, and worst of all, my students, my husband, or my own kids. It makes me sick to think of it, especially now that I have read this book and know/understand the lasting legacy of such damage as well as the years of therapy and brain re-training that is nececessary to improve the quality of life.
I can't do anything about the past, but I sure as hell can use what I know for the future. I know that I have made significant gains in the humanity department over the past five years for sure. These are all gains I NEEDED. God has allowed me to experience some really painful circumstances for a reason. As a result, my empathy muscles have grown, and my ears work harder and longer than my mouth. Lord, let my words and actions be a part of the healing process so that I can be someone's safe place to land after the plane of their lives has been attacked by enemy fire.
No comments:
Post a Comment