I listen to Stax when things are crashing in on me. When life seems pointless, the Memphis soul reaches my heart.
I am crashing bad.
My mind, my essence and my body is in pain and is lost.
Several weeks ago, my brother-in-law committed suicide, leaving my sister and his teenaged daughters.
This is ghastly and very sad, for it was severe mental health issues that push him into suicide.
I have been triggered bad, and gone back to old habits of not taking care of myself or my home.
This weekend I cried properly for the first time, but now my grief just gets bigger and uncontrollable.
It is the triggering that scares me.
It is the exhaustion that wrecks me.
It the anger that confuses me.
It is the connection of my past to thoughts of suicide that saddened me.
I am reaching out, especially to my exited friends, for support, laughter, and love.
I am cannot fully understand trauma, but I can some brief words as a inadequate guide to how I map it.
Trauma is never simple, trauma is not short-term often it is life long.
I can only speak to trauma though my experiences and words from friends.
The important to know is that deep-seated complex trauma fragment the brain and memory.
I cannot remember decades of my life, and parts I may remember are not linear or able to placed into a solid place or time.
The brain remember enough to see and feel what is true.
Most of prostitution and child abuse is repeatative, so the brain holds enough to say this is real, this is an injustice, this should be grieved.
Think of a prisoner in a concentration camp – where every has no hope, every day death seemed inevitable, and every day is the same hellish routine.
Would your brain remember every moment, remember dates or days – or would it all mashed up into one memory with flashes of horror.
Trauma turns turns years of torture and having no hope into what seemed like a week or a day.
Linear time is destroyed.
Trauma makes sleep a mess. Sometimes not resting, sometimes oversleeping.
Sleep can be just nightmares and night terrors.
Trauma is a shadow both night and day.
Trauma is a sign of there being no justices.
Often trauma is deep inside peoples who are considered non-human.
Trauma is a race issue, trauma is carried by indigenous peoples, trauma is the legacy of war, trauma is in the skins of all exploited by the sex trade.
To understand trauma, it is vital to listen to those that you choose to make sub-human – be that the Native American, the soldier, the battered woman, the exploited child or the whore.
Trauma grows by our silencing.
This is very brief post, more a reaching out.