The other evening, some friends came over for dinner, and we got to talking about psychotherapy and trauma. One of my friends is a therapist who works with at-risk teens and adults, and they were telling me about how they approach dealing with trauma in their clients. I was getting tired, as the conversation was towards the end of the evening… I got a little turned around (and upset with myself) when I couldn’t figure out how to respond quickly to what they were saying. I felt like I was starting to sink underwater, with their words rolling over me. So, I just sat back and listened. I did learn something in the process.
They told me that they have a really high success rate with at-risk teens, and they’ve gotten plenty of support from state agencies that see the good results. There’s no disputing their effectiveness, and I wish more therapists had their gifts at assessing the needs of folks who are in real trouble and helping them through tough spots and post-traumatic stress.
They talked about how there is a lot of “really awful” trauma work being done, and how they are just so turned off by therapists forcing folks to recount their traumatic experiences, as though that will change anything. “Any idiot can get someone to tell their story!” they said, and I had to laugh. It’s probably true. Especially since a lot of traumatized people are just itching to tell the world about their horrors, for validation, support, whatever. There are a lot of therapists running around, in my experience, who are quite pleased that their clients have confided their awful experiences to them… as though getting them to talk is a sign that they’re helping them get better.
Maybe it does… or maybe it just re-traumatizes them all over again.
Interestingly, the way my friend was talking about trauma made me a little uncomfortable. I couldn’t quite put my finger on it, and I started to get upset with myself. I managed to calm myself down and pull back and listen more carefully. I had to remind myself that this person didn’t know that the inside of my head was a jangled tangle of sensory overload, so they probably didn’t think less of me — the way I thought less of myself. I had a feeling that they were sorta-kinda pushing an agenda or a way of dealing with trauma that worked for them, but didn’t quite fit for me. I felt like there was a missing piece to our discussion, but I was so out of it and so tired, I couldn’t figure out what it was.
One thing they said struck me, though… while we were talking, the subject of how we take care of our bodies came up. I was talking about dealing with doctors and physical issues, and they started telling me about how they hadn’t been to a doctor in 10 years, and they weren’t really interested in going anytime soon. They said that they had never paid that much attention to their body… they were more connected with their mind and spirit… and they were fine with that.
I wasn’t quite sure what to say. I’ve always been very much “in my body” and I’ve been really active in sports and other physical activities, all my life. For me, the body is an essential and central part of my life that I need to take care of, if my mind and spirit are going to be healthy. I am not in the shape of my life, by any stretch, but I’ve noticed a real connection between how my body is doing and how my brain is working.
And since I’ve been reading Rober Scaer’s book The Body Bears the Burden, I am even more convinced of the importance of the body connection with adequate cognitive functioning — at least, for me — especially with regard to trauma and post-traumatic stress. And when I look at the biggest contributing factors to my own cognitive-behavioral issues, they often turn out to be physical problems. Big physical/sensory problems.
My hands and wrists are starting to tire, after writing so much this morning, but I’ll just post this piece as a “flag” of sorts about this issue — the body-mind-brain connections that make my life so interesting… challenging… frustrating… and fulfilling.
My friend the psychotherapist may be able to live their life quite well without needing to pay attention to their body, but that’s not how I can live my life. For me, there’s a lot more to it than tending to my spirit and psyche alone. If I neglect my body and don’t pay attention to what it’s telling me, well, I just get into a whole lot of trouble.
