The longer I go on, the more I learn about the effects of trauma. Who knew there were so many? We all know what the traumatic event was, but do we really understand what follows? Wouldn’t it be nice to know that our symptoms have a cause and it’s not because something is “wrong” with us?
As Michael Scott so famously asked, “Why are you the way that you are?” That’s the age-old question, and it turns out there are many answers.
Though the traumatic event is in the past, the effects of trauma last a lifetime; they don’t ever go away. There is no cure, no magic wand, only learning how to live with them in a better way. That’s what I do in therapy: I learn how to take care of myself and function in life as a healthier human in spite of specific events that have happened in my past.
One of the things that helps me a lot is learning about how our bodies and brains were designed by God to handle traumas. He knew they would happen in our fallen world, so he built us with specific mechanisms to deal with them, and he also gave us some good advice in his Word.
First, let’s talk about what happens to your brain—the physical organ—when you suffer trauma.
Your hippocampus shrinks. The hippocampus is the part of the brain responsible for memory and learning. If you’ve experienced trauma, you may have trouble with these. I definitely do. If you do too, let me tell you that the Notes app in your phone is your best friend. I write everything down. If it’s not written down, it’s gone.
Your amygdala enlarges. The amygdala is the part that perceives and processes fear and emotion. Since my last trauma, I have been unreasonably fearful of insignificant things like spiders, and for at least two years my emotions were a wild ride. Ben might say they still are, or maybe it’s just that I’m learning to notice them instead of squashing them down inside, but that’s a whole other story. At any rate, because of your larger amygdala, your nervous system senses fear where there is none, and you may feel your emotions more intensely.
Your medial prefrontal function is diminished. This is where you get your ability to pay attention. Have you felt scatter-brained? Unable to focus on a task for very long? I used to work as an editor eight hours a day. But since my wreck six years ago, I’ve found I can only edit for about two hours before I need to take a break. I just can’t concentrate as long as I used to.
The medial prefrontal cortex is also the home of judgment and decision making. You may find that you don’t trust your own judgment or your ability to make a sound decision after trauma (hand raised).
You have increased cortisol and norepinephrine (aka noradrenaline) in response to stress. Your body over-secretes stress hormones in response to the stressors that used to be no big deal. You are on high alert all the time. This is truer than true. I can literally feel the excess cortisol in my body when the slightest thing out of the ordinary happens.
“Trauma literally changes the structure and function of your brain.” (@summerforlenza, Trauma and EMDR Therapist)
I don’t know about you, but to me this is fascinating. An external circumstance that leaves no physical marks on your body can actually change the structure of your brain? But guess what . . . God made us this way! He designed our nervous systems (which include our brain) to react this way to traumatic events.
As a result of that last one (the increased cortisol and norepinephrine),
You may become addicted to stress. Unresolved trauma causes us to be in a constant state of fight or flight (or freeze or fawn), with its associated high levels of stress hormones. We get used to this high level and, over time, our body seeks more to feel “normal.” Our body forgets how to feel safe without excess cortisol flowing, and a state of calm feels unnerving and actually makes us anxious. People like this become chaos seekers because it feels like home to them. This is how workaholics are born.
You may become hypervigilant. You may find yourself constantly monitoring the energy and emotions of everyone around you to make sure they’re okay. You are always on alert. Like me, you become a human Zamboni, smoothing the path of all in your presence so there are no upsets. It is your way of trying to control your emotional environment.
You are constantly braced for impact. No matter what trauma you have suffered, your nervous system is looking for it to happen again. You are always waiting for the other shoe to drop, and you feel like there will always be another shoe. No matter how safe you actually are, your brain and body will anticipate a repeat of the trauma. You “know” it’s going to happen again.
You have a constant sense of urgency. I recently read this in the @healing.and.cptsd community:
“Urgency is such a complex trauma response. It is rooted deeply in survival. It comes from a desperate need to make emotional discomfort stop and to regain a sense of control in a situation that feels overwhelming, unpredictable, and unsafe.”
I can relate.
The more I learn about the effects of trauma, the more I see myself in them, but also the more validated I feel. For the longest time I thought it was just me being weird or crazy or dramatic. But once I know something is an actual byproduct of a traumatic event, I can move past the “feeling guilty” phase and on to the “now what do I do?” phase. It’s helpful to not be stuck in shame and to have a direction in which to go.
So I learn strategies to help me regulate my nervous system, which I’ve talked about here and here and here.
But also, I am always looking for what God has to say about these things. I’ve talked before about Psalm 23 meeting me in dark places and what a help it is. I’ve mentioned that God gives us “the garment of praise for the spirit of heaviness” (depression) in Isaiah 61. I know we are supposed to cast all our cares on him (1 Peter 5:7).
We’ve looked at David showing us how to bring our big emotions to God without fear of getting backhanded. In her book Praying Women, Sheila Walsh says,
“ . . . whereas most of Scripture speaks to us, the Psalms speak for us; they give us a language.”
One of the things I’ve struggled with in my healing journey is feeling like I can’t express myself. There are myriad reasons for this, but it’s been important to me to find my own voice. I’ve had to learn that God knows I have big feelings and he’s not afraid of them. I can come to him and lay out those feelings in actual words, just like David did, and God won’t cast me into outer darkness. He listens patiently and compassionately. The Psalms have given me the language to tell God everything that’s going on in my head and heart.
So read the Psalms—all 150 of them. Read them slowly, savoring each one. Read them in volume to see big themes. The Psalms will give you a voice, but they will also show you this: every lament is immediately followed by worship. David allowed himself to feel all the things, but he did not wallow in self-pity and neither should you. In the words of Matt Chandler,
“It’s okay to not be okay. Just don’t stay there.”
Acknowledge what you feel, then turn to God with your arms full of “stuff” and hand it over. God knows you have it and he knows how hard it is for you. As I’ve said many times, God is not afraid of your hard questions or your big emotions. Reading David’s laments shows us a pattern of healthy coping: feel it, then ask for God to do something about it, and then worship him. Don’t ever just keep it to yourself. Bottling up emotions inside is not mentally or physically healthy.
That was a lot, so here’s the TLDR version if you’ve suffered trauma:
Gain knowledge and understanding about the effects of trauma you are experiencing, and give yourself compassion.
Learn how to regulate your own nervous system.
Follow David’s example of lament followed immediately by worship. The Lord is worthy.