I read a quote the other day in Margaret Roach’s And I Shall Have Some Peace There that I’ve been thinking about:
“The statute of limitations has run out on most of our childhood traumas.”
It was not she who said this, but someone she’d read.
In other words, it’s time to stop blaming our parents for everything that’s wrong with us and take matters into our own hands.
That taking of matters may look like going to therapy, or memorizing scripture, or keeping a prayer journal, or writing it all out and burning the pages, or any of a million other therapeutic actions you prefer. At camp we always threw a stick in the fire to represent those things we were no longer going to do, and up in symbolic flames they went.
Now listen, I am not advocating a “buck up and get over it” mentality. I am well aware that childhood traumas leave a permanent mark, and we learn to build our life around the facts of what happened, hopefully without being continually beaten down by the effects. But often, the effects persist long into adulthood. They shape who we are and how we think. The facts happened one time, but the effects are ongoing. That’s the way trauma works. That’s when we find our best way to deal with it, as in the taking-of-matters-into-your-own-hands examples above.
I was hit head-on once, but the effects are still very much with me. I am still quite uncomfortable being a passenger. I still have significant hypervigilance and occasional intrusive thoughts. I still have random bouts of anxiety. I still feel panic rising in me once in a while, though I haven’t had an actual panic attack in a few months.
So when I read this quote my first thought was, “No, there is no statute of limitations.” Trauma is buried in the body and the body decides when it feels safe and when it doesn’t, and the brain works diligently to keep us safe in what it perceives, whether rightly or wrongly, as an unsafe situation. Our brains were designed to do that.
But I kept pondering on these words and, surprisingly, felt this little niggling of freedom, like I had permission to not think about the trauma ad nauseam anymore, to not let it rule me. I might in reality be a victim (I am) but I don’t have to cling to the victimhood. I don’t have to think of myself that way. I’ve heard it said, “Trauma may be in the car but it doesn’t get to drive.” I don’t have to let it lead while I follow like a dumb sheep.
The other day I went out the basement door to empty the dehumidifier. When I came back in, a leaf blew in with me, and when I saw it in my peripheral vision skitter across the concrete floor, it startled me and made me gasp and jump. That’s what hypervigilance looks like in everyday life. It’s not just a leaf; the brain sees it as a threat.
But instead of immediately slumping my shoulders and being discouraged that this still happens and thinking the same old “I’m never going to get over this” thoughts, I smiled and said right out loud, “So what?”
So what if a leaf startles me? I don’t have to be upset and angry and depressed that I have this thing in my life. My life is good and if the worst thing in it is that I jump when a leaf blows in, that’s not so bad. (Newsflash: that’s not the worst thing in my life, but it was what I thought in the moment, and it applies to other “worst things.”)
This is what I’m getting out of the idea that the statute of limitations has run out: It doesn’t change the facts of what happened, or even the long-term effects. What it changes is my mindset, from one of “Woe is me, poor little helpless victim, my life is so hard” to “So what if I have this to deal with? Life is good and I’m strong enough to handle the inconvenience.”
Please hear me when I say this is not self-gaslighting. It is choosing to think on better things, like the ones listed in Philippians 4. The negative things—the consequences of being hit head-on—are still there, but at least in some small way, I can throw off a corner of the wet blanket.
Maybe you’re thinking “Yeah, well my trauma is way worse than a car accident.” I’m so sorry. Really, I am. I will tell you I have way worse trauma in my past than a car accident too; I just don’t put it out there in public. So I understand where you’re coming from. I promise I do.
I wondered when I first started thinking about all this if I would be able to apply this mindset to the “really bad” trauma, and I’m happy to report that I am doing it, little by little. I just keep asking, “So what?”
Remember, the facts of the trauma are the same, and the long-term effects are still there.
It’s my mindset that has changed.
I am able to acknowledge the hard parts of my life yet still know that my entire life is not bad because of them. I am not broken or ruined, which seems to be a popular claim these days. I can “embrace the suck” but also be thankful for the abundance in which I live and the grace God gives me every day as I walk through the effects of the bad things that have happened to me.
I can grieve the lost parts of life—the innocence and the life I envisioned for myself that was going to be perfect—while rejoicing in the goodness of life as it is. Clarissa Moll says “Grief and joy can coexist.” They are not mutually exclusive but live in the same house, the house of me. In the same breath I can mourn my life’s tragedies and thank God for his amazing provision for me, knowing what I was up against. Bad things happen AND he is a good, caring Father. All at once. Both/and.
I could not have done this—made this tiny mindset shift—without the help of a lot of people. I have a wonderful Christian therapist. I have a spouse who is so supportive. I have a kind and loving network of children and close friends who, instead of judging me, have rallied around me with encouragement and prayers. I pray you find all these things too.
Are you living with the effects of trauma? Struggling to feel like it will ever get better? You will never forget the event. You may always live with the effects. But they don’t have to rule your life. You are not helpless and your life is not hopeless. There is grace for you too.
I hope you find the help you need. I hope you gather a network of encouragers who will strengthen you enough for you to throw that wet blanket off, a little piece at a time.
"I might in reality be a victim (I am) but I don’t have to cling to the victimhood. " So very, very true. We can acknowledge that bad things happen, AND eventually be free. Thanks for writing this, cousin!