Trauma and stressor related disorders are a difficult topic as they rehash painful memories for many readers. In my practice, I would say about 2/3 of the people who I have worked with have wrestled with some sort of traumatic event in their lives. Leaning again on empirical evidence, some of our Canadian statistics report that about 33% (or 1 out of 3) children will have been either abused or witnessed the abuse by another person over the age of 18. Statistically speaking (and to be that resounding gong), I would like to point out that this is what is reported by a select audience; meaning that the actual numbers are likely higher than what is reported.
In a past role working for an addiction facility, I quickly realized how people responded to trauma in negative ways. As both and intake and front-line worker, it was my job to listen to the story of the people coming in to determine if our treatment would be of help to them. I don’t think I listened to a single story that didn’t include some sort of physical or relational trauma or abuse. Most of these people had no formal diagnosis, but were simply trying to ease the pain that they were holding on to without taking their own lives. In a heartbreaking way, turning to the substance or process of their choosing was the lesser of two evils.
This highlights the heart of the issue: the manifestation of these symptoms that we have now classified as a trauma or stressor related disorder is a natural response to the pain that we have felt in our lives, left un-managed. The strange sociological aspect of this process is that most of us who experienced trauma do our best to either minimize or hide the fact that we are in pain as we carry on in our every day lives, mostly in self-preservation. As a result, the pain tries to get out in whatever way it can. Grief is closely connected to any trauma and it will find a way to make itself known. This usually happens in a way that is less than desired—though depression or anxiety related symptoms.
If you have read any of my previous articles, you will notice that I am a firm believer (not my idea) that grief is a primarily cognitive experience, meaning that we need to understand what happened in the past, what is happening in our present and we can do in the future as we respond to our pain. While many emotions causes this experience highly difficult, the healing and sanity comes when we cognitively process whatever happened to us in a rational and orderly way. This can only happen when we have the space to tell our story and look for meaning in the details.
I suppose this is where psychotherapy can be of help. There are also times when medication (both traditional and non-traditional) to ease the symptoms can be of a benefit as well. The good news is that there are quite a few people who can be of help to you if you struggle in this realm of the human experience. The bad news is that it will not go away and may only get worse if you allow this issue to linger in both your conscious and unconscious self. If you are reading this and this is resonating with you and have yet to talk to someone, I do encourage you to speak with a regulated health professional who is trained to help.
As hard as it is to deal with this pain, there is so much hope in your healing journey—including an enormous amount of people who have already begun the process of healing from a traumatic past.
Help is on the way. But it is up to you to reach out.
Until Next Time,