Selected Writings of a Trauma Survivor: Prologue
These chronicles are dedicated to all the “Lukas” of this world.*
This selection of writings has been chosen to reflect the variety of experiences I have undergone in my life. Many of them, but not all, are hemmed by the suffering that (complex) trauma has visited on me and this will become apparent as the reader progresses through these chronicles. However, in only one of these chronicles do I recount the cause of the original trauma: in a short story named A Cold Elephant, which is about the night my mother took her own life. The cause of complex trauma was the ongoing violence and brutality I suffered at the hands of my stepmother from the age of six onward. Add to this, my father’s indifference to my stepmother’s cruelty and, at times, his encouragement of the use of force against me and my younger sister, then the complexity of the causes of trauma in my life becomes apparent.
It was only when I reached the age of 24, after having graduated, that
the symptoms of trauma became manifest in my life, making my existence a
misery. This phenomenon is known as delayed onset trauma and Peter
Levine, one of the leading international experts on trauma, explains in some
detail how this happens. Apparently, after the trauma has occurred the symptoms
can lie dormant for an unspecified period, until an accident takes place and it
is “dislodged” from where it has been stored in the brain. In my case the
accident took place on my bike and it involved blunt force trauma to the head,
knocking me unconscious. When I regained consciousness I was in Casualty in the
local hospital, and although I didn’t know it then, that was the beginning of
thirty years of torment, known as PTSD.
Insomnia plagued me from that day onward, as did anxiety and depression,
but I didn’t connect these symptoms to my experience as a four-year-old child
of my mother’s suicide. It was to be another twenty years before I perceived
and understood the connection because by then I had begun to educate myself
about my condition. Then it was a further ten years before I had therapy that
freed me from PTSD. The therapy that worked for me was EMDR (Eye Movement,
Desensitization and Reprocessing). Before that I tried everything in search of
a remedy, including psychotherapy, hypnosis, massage, acupuncture, Trauma
Relief Exercises, medication ranging from antidepressants to antipsychotics,
reiki, focusing, dowsing, Bach Flower remedy, aromatherapy, homeopathy, and EFT
(Emotional Freedom Technique). These therapies can be expensive and the price
can be prohibiting at times, but I was driven by despair and the need to find
the one that would release me from torment. To stop searching would signify
defeat and that was not an option because it signified resigning myself to a
life of misery.
As you read on, you may think that judging by the chronicles that my
life was adventurous and possibly fulfilling. To an extent that is true, but
living with the symptoms of PTSD was, as I used to explain to my close friends,
equivalent to dragging a weighty ball and chain around with me, to whatever
country, to whatever job I happened to be working in at the time. I was
miserable, but mostly I hid it from others. It was only when I arrived back in
my room at night that I could be myself, me as I really was. That involved
looking in the mirror at the deepening circles under my eyes and lying in bed
awake at night wondering how to get through the next day on so little or no
sleep at all. Fear was rooted in my soul and thoughts of suicide were constant.
I absolutely cannot account for how I survived so much suffering because, if I
had to go through it again, I would rather be dead. That is how hellish it was.
During those years, a typical night for me would involve having a few
glasses of beer or wine, to help me relax in bed. When that didn’t work I would
turn to spirits, mostly whiskey or rum, or whatever was available at the time.
It was quite a rite of passage to move from a mostly alcohol-free life as a
student to an alcohol-dependent woman within the space of a year, and I hated
myself for it. But the alcohol was a necessary tool in my struggle to keep
going. Now that I no longer suffer from insomnia and anxiety, I don’t need
alcohol, although I still drink a modest amount to help me through the
challenges that life throws at me. My wish is to abstain completely, but I´m
not in a hurry even though I am aware of the damage alcohol does to my body.
Since EMDR released me from the symptoms of trauma, I have been much,
much happier in my life. Added to that is the practice of mindfulness, which
has expanded my awareness of how precious life is and of the potential for
everyday life to be beautiful. I can be present in the moment instead of
fleeing from it into a relationship or into a bottle of wine. Nature
embellishes our lives, but I have only just become aware of this in the last
ten years of my life. Leaves, birds, the sky, the sea, little children, the
moon and stars… each one is a world of infinite beauty and yet I never saw this
before because I was consumed by my struggle with the symptoms of trauma.
In writing these chronicles I want to convey hope to all those suffering from trauma. Seek the means to free yourself from your suffering because it is out there; don't give up.
*Luka
They only hit until you cry
(Lyrics by Suzanne Vega)
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VZt7J0iaUD0
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