It’s been a long time since I’ve written. I guess I just wanted to share my heart and some recent “aha” moments in the hopes that maybe they’ll help you make sense of me, or help me to make sense of me, or — that a piece of this will resonate with you, and you’ll find a glimmer or resource that helps your own healing journey. (that was a long-ass sentence. don’t come at me, grammar police).
After decades of trauma and subsequent, self-afflicted soul-wounds and self-sabotage, I have decided to try some different approaches to healing. 15+ years of talk therapy hasn’t been enough. Helpful, yes. Lifesaving at times? YES. Yet, I always find myself repeating self-destructive patterns, pushing people away, and hurting those I love and need most.
Trauma healing is hard. ugly. painful. It brings up so much shame, and guilt and regret. My biggest challenge is trying to approach this work as The Loving Observer. To examine the yuck not from a place of “I am bad. I am broken. I am too much. I am not enough. I deserve to be alone. I deserve to feel like shit.” this Loving Observer or my “capital S” Self, is (sometimes) able to look without judgement— and even, with compassion, permission, and forgiveness. To take the little girl inside of me by the hand and say, “you didn’t deserve that. those things WERE scary, and somebody should have protected you. you were a child. you deserved to be kept safe. you are not too much. you are enough. the way you are treated has nothing to do with you, and everything to do with them.”
Why now? I’ve spent the last few years guarding myself from getting too close, being fully vulnerable, letting walls down enough to truly connect with people who want nothing more than to love me as and for who I am. several years ago, my longest time best friend mentioned “attachment trauma” to me (she’s a therapist, so this comes with extra insight). I remember learning a bit about attachment during my retake of psych 101 (turns out you have to go to class to pass) but the attachment styles were a new concept for me. I took the quiz after my second long-term relationship ended, and again a few years later. “Rarest attachment style” “Most difficult to treat” “Hardest to heal” aren’t very hopeful sentiments, and the way this style is spoken about brings up even more shame, pain, and hurt. Disorganized attachers are typically painfully self-aware of what makes them “difficult” (to love, to work with, be in relationship with, etc.) Reading this is not helpful. What IS helpful, though - is gentle, affirming language reminding where this attachment style comes from, and that those things are not us. NOT who we are, what we want, not personality/character flaws, but are a result of trauma(s) and the wiring in our brains and bodies that react vs respond, often without a conscious choice in the matter. It’s like — having PMS and being deeply aware that your behavior is temporarily insufferable, but you’re unable to “just stop” feeling cranky and being in pain. You’re not at the helm of the ship — you’re just riding the freaking waves, hoping you don’t go overboard and take the whole ship down with you.
It’s not your fault. It’s not my fault. It’s not even their fault.
Yet, I know that it’s my responsibility to heal it so I stop hurting myself and others — and to do my best to break the generational cycle and model better regulation/coping skills for my child. Not my fault. But my. responsibility. to heal. full stop.
In my love-hate with social media given ALL THE THINGS, my algorithm has gifted me with some recent gems. I’ll share some of those here: The Healing Daughter Community (Ruth C. on Patreon and Instagram), Polyvagal Theory, Sukie Baxter @SukieBaxter on youtube and instagram, founder of Whole Body Revolution (love her). Vagus nerve playlists on spotify. This book was gentle, loving, and while changing thoughts alone isn’t enough, I did find it helpful in terms of befriending the idea of the observer. We Can Do Hard Things (Glennon, Abby, and Amanda with others) is also a refreshing reading companion. It normalizes our experiences, and gives us permission to be exactly US.
Why am I writing about this TODAY, though?. First, because it’s been on my mind and heart for the past month, since letting go of one of the kindest, best, most secure humans I’ve ever been lucky enough to know, because of these unresolved attachment traumas. AND. last night, was a prime example of our bodies absolutely “keeping the score”. There was a break-in and shooting just blocks from me, last night. I woke to the sound of police helicopters above, knowing that something terrifying was going on far too close for comfort. I got up, shaken, looked carefully out windows and doors, and retreated to my bedroom to try to find some sort of information about what was happening. I knew they (police) were looking for someone, and the possibility that they could be in my own yard, or break into my home while hiding/fleeing — had me in full blown fight/flight/freeze response. Because it was around 2am, I didn’t want to text neighbors or my dad for comfort/reassurance. So I sat in fear and confusion until finally learning through a reddit and then nextdoor post what the heck was happening. I wasn’t able to regulate my nervous system for hours after. I woke still quivering from residual fear.
I don’t know what it’s like to experience this as someone who hasn’t been through the same traumas as myself. I sincerely wonder what that sounded and felt like for those who were as close, and also awake, but who hadn’t lived through violence, sirens, assault.
But, I DO know what it felt like in my body, as a little girl who 35 years earlier had a physically abusive and deeply dangerous step-father who broke into her home despite multiple restraining orders. Who stalked and threatened to kill us all, if she left him. Who choked her big sister and beat her mother in her presence. Who had to sit at home with a hand on the phone, after big sister moved out, and mom wasn’t home to protect her- leaving her alone with only instruction to “call 911 if you see the whites of his eyes”. A 7th grader who became unable to find peace/safety/comfort because she couldn’t count on anyone to protect her.
I know what it felt like in the body of a person who went on to get a little older, witness more domestic violence, be subjected to mental abuse and unresolved trauma + alcohol induced rages, to experience sexual assault, armed robbery at work, having a bullet through a chicago apartment window, and to be awoken in the middle of the night with a piece of concrete through a garden level apartment window hours before 9/11 planes hit the towers (also in chicago).who would go on to be drugged and raped, and who has endured decades of verbal, psychological, mental abuse by caregivers and partners with narcissistic traits/NPD.
I’m sure I’m leaving out many more traumatic experiences. This is just a highlight reel. It’s no wonder my nervous system is still reeling from what felt like a very real threat far too close to home. That it stirred up in me big feelings about nobody coming to save me. That I stayed up checking, replaying, and monitoring security cameras until I read what happened and that the suspect was apprehended.
It’s no wonder that nearly 12 hours later, I’m trying to put these new tools and resources to use to reset my nervous system and get myself out of fight/flight/freeze enough to be productive at work.
It’s no wonder that my attachment style is “disorganized” (also called fearful avoidant). When love looked like fear, rejection, abandonment, withholding love, danger, and flight/fight/freeze truly meant survival, it’s no wonder I’m hardwired to run. even from people, places and things that (actually) want to keep me safe.
If any of this resonates with you, please know you’re not alone. I’m an open book. “Flakey” as I may be (hot-cold/push-pull) I love you, and hope you also take care of the little kid inside who has just always wanted to be safe. xox sand
A quote about The Observer:
“To put it in simple terms, if you actually were the thoughts themselves, would you be able to observe them? No. You would be the thoughts. So who is observing them? Who hears them? The fact that you can think something, and observe it, means you are not it, or rather, it isn't your most fundamental essence so to speak. It may help you to look into some spiritual sources, like Vedic traditions and how they approach meditation. The spiritual idea is that your body has its own consciousness of lower vibration, mostly based on instinct and survival, while your higher consciousness is more of a whisper, pushing you towards your highest good, and harmonization with Love. The observer is your highest Self, which is the divine reality, also known as the source, or as some traditions call it, God, or Love consciousness. If you're a scientific person, you can call it a unified quantum field or whatever you'd like, but it really has no name.” - a since deleted Reddit user.
