Healing is a Rollercoaster

I was twenty three before I disclosed the immense abuse and assault I experienced as a child into young adulthood. That's twenty three years of dissociation, survival mode and dysregulation. Those years are written into my brain chemistry, encouraged by my crazy amygdala, and settled into every crevice of my physical body. When I first began the healing process, I, like most, started with psychotherapy, or talk therapy. I found a therapist who specialized in trauma work, had experienced it personally, and shared similar values and beliefs as I did. She was immensely helpful, and I spent the first summer after graduating with my Bachelor's degree participating in individual therapy, family therapy, and group therapy. She was so helpful, in fact, years later when I decided to get married, she completed our pre-marital counseling, and then eventually counseled me through my divorce.

At the end of my therapy, I could talk openly about my experiences and I even had the courage to confront my childhood abuser and file a police report (this report wouldn't legally accomplish much since the statute of limitations had run out, but I was confident that documenting my experiences legally was the right thing to do for my healing).

My next form of therapy became weight lifting, and feeling strong and capable made me feel like less of a potential victim and helped me build my confidence again after divorce and having a baby. I'm proud to say that years later I can still outlift all of the high school boys at your local gym. I spent some time doing Crossfit, which introduced me to serious weight lifting, and loved the feeling of handstands, pullups and eventually pulling myself into a muscle up! Movement is excellent medicine, and lifting weights is by far the most effective way I've built self confidence!

As an educator, I spent my summers reading about psychology, with a goal to read ten books a summer. Reading specific information about trauma response, the psychology of attachment, cultural competence, and poverty supported my healing by validating my experiences and lending insight to the obstacles I was still trying to navigate. One of the most helpful books I've recently read was Tormenting Thoughts and Secret Rituals: The Hidden Epidemic of Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder by Ian Osborn. As someone who was diagnosed with clinical OCD as part of my disclosure, understanding why my brain chose to self-soothe through rituals and repetition helped me accurately interpret my behavior and show myself grace.

As a survivor of trauma and a current educator, toxic stress has taken it's toll on my health since COVID-19 and the lockdowns changed the public school system and dysregulated us all. I gained almost 60 pounds, my hair was falling out, my heart rate was so high I had to be put on medication, and my skin was covered in stress hives and eczema. Since I got married in 2022, my husband has helped me make tremendous progress in healing thanks to his ability to co-regulate me and provide the safety and protection I always yearned for. His calm and kind demeanor has modeled healthy response for my overloaded nervous system.

Through all of the therapy, reading, acknowledging and modeling, there is still a deep tension in my body, and last night I attempted somatic release using a hard ball and focusing on the PSOAS and jaw muscles. When watching the instructional video, it mentioned that I may experience crying and a release of emotion while completing the stretches and activities. As soon as the hard ball hit the right muscle, I felt like I was suffocating, and my heart clenched. To say I could feel the tension is a massive understatement...it was as if my body went into threat mode and clamped down even harder. When I stood up, I felt like I had been hit by a truck, but that my hips were actually moving in the way God intended them to (less robotic and achy). I was somewhat disappointed in the release, but any improvement is beneficial, so I headed to bed. This morning when I woke up, I felt melancholy without explanation. I went through my normal routine and got in the car to commute to work. About ten minutes down the road I could feel the hot tears building in my eyes and I finally felt a slight relief from the emotions that had stayed so lodged in my body for over thirty years. One of the muscles I had focused on was my jaw muscle, and for the first time in years I can sit without clenching my jaw. I had begun to grind my teeth so hard at night when I was sleeping that I was grinding down my teeth past the enamel. There was definitely a moment during the jaw release that I felt the tears behind my eyes, and waking up this morning, I feel like my natural face holds a smile without that same tension. Even though the progress felt slight, I know that continued effort will produce more release and over time help me move past and heal from the physical effects of trauma.

The hardest part of healing is the expectations we place on ourselves, trying to rush the process or mask and pretend that we aren't suffering for the sake of others around us. Finding alternative ways to heal trauma often brings up new feelings or releases pent up emotions that can be difficult to experience without privacy. As I drove to work as a teacher this morning, I hoped that the buildup from last night's somatic release wouldn't escalate during the school day and that my attention could remain focused on my students. Each step towards restoring regulation in our minds and bodies takes a toll, and often others that have no experience with abuse or trauma can misunderstand the complex impact on relationships and energy levels. When I first married my husband and felt safe, I slept so much I thought I had some sort of chronic fatigue syndrome. The honest truth is that I had been in survival mode for so long that the thought of putting my guard down shook me to the core. It's been a long road to recovering and healing both my mind and body; my abuse started around age three and continued in various forms until shortly before my disclosure. Those twenty years were embedded into every part of my nervous system response and flooded my body with cortisol and adrenaline. No wonder it has taken me another twenty years to finally feel the burden lifting, and although I know that I will carry the scar of trauma for the remainder of my life, it will no longer feel like an open wound waiting to be prodded.

Be patient and show yourself grace as you heal. There will be setbacks and overwhelming emotions. Implicit memories may arise, or triggers may become more intense as you sort through the memories and experience moments of safety and regulation. Surround yourself with therapeutic spaces either inside or outside, find support through kind friends and family, and treat yourself and celebrate as you make progress. Restoration is possible, and healing is within your reach.