After I wrote last week’s piece about five odd symptoms I’ve had since the trauma I’ve experienced, I thought of two more. But also, I heard from a number of you who thanked me for sharing those. Apparently it’s common for trauma survivors to think we are the only ones who experience these quirky things and we tend to chalk it up to being weird. It’s always comforting to know we are not alone in this. If you didn’t see the first essay on this topic, maybe go read it first. At any rate, here are numbers 6 and 7.
6. Rocking
I have always loved a good rocking chair, specifically a cushy recliner that also rocks. I will never actually recline in it, but I like the feel of a big, soft chair that hugs me and where I can lay my head back and also rock. You can keep your stationary, unmoving chairs; I’ll always take the one that moves. This worked out well when I had infants, a season that lasted through five babies in eight years, so maybe ten years of rocking little ones. But even now, my favorite place in the house is in an overstuffed recliner I bought for $60 at the Habitat for Humanity ReStore. Our living room includes a comfortable sofa, a wing chair, a leather recliner, and a power recliner (we are old), but this second-hand chair is everyone’s favorite, so much so that I put it in my bedroom and made myself a little reading nook so I could have it all to myself. That might be selfish, but I am serious about my ability to rock ever so slightly, especially in a quiet place.
When I sit down to read, my left leg is curled under me and my right foot is on the floor, moving the chair just enough to be barely perceptible. I simply cannot sit still. In church, I usually cross my legs and the top foot sways just a little. I remember when I was a little girl, lying in bed at night and gently rocking back and forth to put myself to sleep. I wondered even then if everyone did that, or if I was the weird one.
In fact, it isn’t weird at all. Rocking is a form of self-soothing. It is a symptom of anxiety, a sign that your nervous system is at least a tiny bit activated all the time, even when you think it’s not. When you are activated, there is excess energy in your body and it has to go somewhere, so it goes into movement.
One of the books I read in the last year or so (sorry, I don’t remember which one) suggests shaking as a means to regulate. Literally stand up and start shaking your arms, swing them around your body back and forth, then add a little bouncing in the knees, then one at a time shake out your legs. I do this sometimes when I don’t have time to go for a walk, and it definitely helps. You just have to get the tension and energy out.
But just so you know, always needing to move is perfectly normal when you’ve experienced trauma. Movement helps you feel better.
7. Forgetting to breathe
Does that sound crazy? It did to me until I found myself doing it.
Have you ever been watching a suspenseful movie and suddenly realized you were holding your breath? It’s because you were waiting for the scary thing you knew was coming. You were bracing yourself.
If you have been through trauma(s), your nervous system is always on alert, waiting for the next scary thing. You “know” something will happen, you just don’t know when or what it will be. So you unconsciously hold your breath. This doesn’t necessarily mean you stop breathing altogether, but you may find yourself taking very shallow breaths, then suddenly taking a big, deep one when your body needs more oxygen. I find myself doing this particularly when I am driving, which makes sense since my most recent trauma happened in the car.
So if you occasionally feel like you are not getting enough air, stop and take a few slow, deep breaths. Close your eyes (if you’re not driving) and relax your shoulder and chest muscles while you do it. Remind your body that you are safe and it’s okay to not be on alert.
Now, you’re probably wondering, “So what do I do? How do I deal with anxiety and panic and an activated nervous system?”
Obviously, I am a fan of therapy. There are specific therapies that can help you process traumas so that you are less reactive to them (EMDR). This is not to say you will forget that they’ve happened; that’s not how it works. But EMDR can help your body and brain understand that the trauma is not currently happening right now. Your experiences will always be in the car with you, but you don’t have to let them drive.
A big help for me has been learning as much as I can about why my brain and body do what they do. Somehow the knowing is a comfort to me, and it’s been fascinating to learn how God made us. Here are a few of my favorite, most-helpful books (affiliate links):
The Body Keeps the Score - Bessel van der Kolk. A detailed explanation of exactly what happens in the brain and body when a person suffers trauma. This was the first book I read on this topic, and it has been the most validating. Not written from a Christian perspective, but very helpful. (Graphic content warning.)
The Anxiety Field Guide - Jason Cusick. A pastor’s journey through living with anxiety.
Altogether You - Jenna Riemersma. An explanation of Internal Family Systems therapy from a Christian author. Have you ever said something like, “Part of me things (this), but part of me thinks (that)”? That’s because there are actually different parts in you. IFS helps you understand where your different parts came from, what they are trying to do, and how you can lead them with the Holy Spirit’s help. (See also Boundaries for Your Soul, Alison Cook and Kimberly Miller, but read Altogether You first.)
I Shouldn’t Feel This Way - Alison Cook. Dr. Cook’s latest book teaches you how to make sense of the jumbled and conflicting emotions you feel. Includes references to IFS.
And on Instagram, I follow these accounts:
@healwithbritt (not Christian)
@thehealingtraumapodcast (not Christian)
@itsmaggiehayes (not a Christian)
As always, I recommend you pass everything you read—Christian or not—through the filter of God’s word. I hope something here is a help to you!
So true about the rocking. As a child I was teased because I use to bump in a chair or couch. And I did feel comforted . I have my special recliner chair like you with the one foot on the floor. And when I go to visit I am relieved if there is a rocker in the room. I go for it admittedly. Thanks for talking about this rocking business. It explained a lot to me.
I've frequently been asked why my "motor is running" when I'm sitting down -- because I'm hardly ever still. As far as I can recall, I've been that way my whole life, even as a child. And I'm not sure what to make of that.