Tag Archives: Trauma

The Result of Trauma

Recently someone commented on this blog, misconstruing a comment made by someone else, attacked that person, made accusations and as I was trying to remember how to block the person from making further inflammatory comments, they managed to write four more focussed entirely on me.   Each comment was more accusatory and hate filled than the next, and though they didn’t get through moderation, I saw them before deleting and successfully blocking the person and their various aliases.  And yet it made me sad to have to block them.

After years of blogging I have learned there is no use responding to such comments, because when someone has made the decision that you are hateful, and untrustworthy, really anything said will be taken as yet another example of what they’ve decided is true and reinforcing whatever it is this person believes.  Ironically, this is what happens to anyone who has been objectified, not treated as an equal or even a human being with respect and dignity, but rather has come to represent something larger than any single person can possibly be.

I have also learned that it is better to remove the offending comments than to allow them, as they do not lead to useful, productive discussion, but instead end up creating a mosh pit of anger and resentment, which can be far-reaching, upsetting and triggering to a great many, as opposed to just the one or two the original comments were directed to.

When a person has been traumatized repeatedly throughout their childhood, made to feel inadequate, told they are inferior, treated cruelly, belittled and teased mercilessly, they grow up believing, at least a little, that they deserved such abuse.  It also is common for that person to then become hyper vigilant of the same sort of cruelty being played out throughout their life with other people. It is a means of survival, as well as a way to protect themselves from more trauma.

For children especially, who’ve experienced on-going trauma, the tendency can be to see this same kind of abusive behavior that they grew up with, in others now that they are older.  Sometimes they may be correct and people really are being abusive, but other times their reaction will be incorrect.  People who wish them no harm, people who even care about them, will be viewed as abusive too, in keeping with all those people who hurt them in the past.  The original trauma will be replayed over and over leading to an unending cycle of trauma, reaction and trauma.

I’m not saying anything new here, you can read about PTSD, trauma and the result of systematic abuse over long periods of time by doing a little research yourself…

The point is, when we as a society, condemn a population of people, whether that is because of skin color, gender, neurology, sexual preference or anything else, we are doing long-term damage.  Damage that will result in an increase in addiction, depression, suicidal ideation, nightmares, anxiety, irritability, anger, difficulties forming close bonds with others and general feelings of isolation are a few of the symptoms documented.

Abuse is like that.  It has long tentacles, reaching out over decades and even entire lives, causing those who have been victimized to respond to others who wish them no harm, as though they were.

There is no easy answer, but if there is a single word that can be used, which will certainly not do more harm, it is love.  I know it sounds trite, too simple and clichéd, but  I believe it is the only answer.  As Emma wrote recently after reading a New York Times article about the ongoing fight for control of a vital highway in Afghanistan, “War is useless for making peace.”  Love has always been the answer.  Even if others cannot hear it, cannot believe it, cannot feel it, those of us who can, must be even more determined and vigilant.  Love.  Embracing those who are in pain, embracing those who are hurting, even and especially when they strike out.  And while we do that, we must protect ourselves and those who need our protection from any who are intent on hurting us with strong boundaries and the help and protection of others.  It’s a tricky balancing act and definitely something I am working on, but I am confident it can be done.

Love

Love

“Look At Me”

When I was young, my father would call my siblings and me into his home based “office” when we had done something wrong.  We knew when we were summoned that we were in trouble.  I can still remember, now more than four decades later, the feeling of dread when my father would call my name.  I still remember standing before him, terrified, often angry and defiant, while he spoke to me, describing whatever it was that I’d done wrong.  And I can still remember those dreaded words, “Look at me when I’m speaking to you!”  The tone was not an invitation, but a demand, a demand for compliance, a demand for respect that I did not feel, a demand to do as I was being told.  And so I did.  I would pick a point near his eyes, without actually looking at him, sometimes it was at one of his large eyebrows, or maybe a single hair that grew from his ear, or the bridge of his nose, anywhere but into those steely blue, angry eyes.  Those eyes that when I looked into them expressed pain and anger and contempt beyond anything words could convey.  It was physically painful to look into his eyes.  It was deeply, soul-wrenchingly, painful.  It tugged at the core of my being and threatened to annihilate me.  I learned, early on, to do anything BUT look him in the eye.

For years I’d forgotten about those moments of horror when I would get called into his office.  And then I gave birth to a beautiful child.  A child who would be diagnosed with autism and suddenly those awful words would be repeated by a great many and I felt that same terror all over again.  But now people who knew about autism, professionals, people who devoted their lives to working with children on the spectrum were telling me of the importance of eye contact and oddly I found a way to compartmentalize my past, after all I am not Autistic, therefore my experience must not be relevant or similar to someone who is.  And anyway, I only had trouble making eye contact in this one specific instance, it was unrelated.

I was told autistic children must be taught to look at those who are speaking to them because it was important they learn to “fit in”, and that this was what people expect and that those who do not learn to make eye contact will be thought suspicious.  So I nodded my head and proceeded to demand that my child “look at me.”  And then I read a post from an autistic person who wrote of how physically and emotionally painful it was to be told they must do this thing that hurt them.  She said it was like looking into the depths of the other person’s soul and that often the pain she saw there was too overwhelming.  And I identified.  I understood what she meant.  I had felt that way with this one person, my father, and it was exactly as she described and it made me stop and think about what I was asking of my child.

You see, I had only had this experience with one person, it was not universal, but her description reminded me of that pain I’d felt so long ago and I began to wonder, what if that experience that I had with one person was how it felt with everyone whose gaze I met?  What would that be like?  I knew then that it would be horrible to have those words said, over and over by so many, and I vowed to stop demanding this of my child.  Whatever this might cost her in the long run, whatever others might conclude about her because she did not learn to “look” at others in their eyes, I decided it was worth it.  I did not and do not want her to ever feel that terrible feeling of sadness, of pain, of overwhelm or whatever it was that made her avert her gaze to begin with.

Interestingly, my daughter often makes eye contact, though I do not for a moment believe this has anything to do with me or anything I did or didn’t do one way or the other.  In fact my daughter wrote she likes looking at people’s eyes.  So much so that we have agreed to work on a project based on this together.  But for all who do not, who are overwhelmed, who feel physically ill or in pain, why would we demand this of them?

Eye Contact

Trauma & Autism

Studies confirm that people who are Autistic often respond to stimuli more intensely than those who are not.  Hypo and hyper sensitivities are often discussed when it comes to vision, taste, hearing, smell and touch in Autistic people.  Often there is a mixture of both hyper and hypo sensitivities in any one person.  (I use these terms because we have a lack of good words to describe these things.  Both hyper and hypo sensitivities are subjective and are used in comparison to non autistic people, which is problematic in and of itself, but for the sake of this post, it is the best language I have.)  What happens to a person who experiences the world more intensely than the majority of people, particularly when confronted with frightening situations, anger, loud noises, etc?

Recent studies have confirmed that children with autism have very active Amygdalas; the center of the brain that stores traumatic events.” Traumatizing Events and Autism

When Emma was just two, we went to visit my mother, the proud owner of an adorable German Shepherd puppy.  Emma had no fear of dogs, but during that visit, the puppy playfully chased Emma, nipping at her ankles and Emma began to scream in terror.  By the time I was able to rescue her, hoisting her up in the air and away from the puppy’s sharp little teeth, the damage had been done.  To this day, Emma is frightened of dogs and upon seeing one that gets too close, she will cry, “Mommy pick me up!”  Despite the fact that Emma is now much older, the trauma is real and intensely felt.  For years I couldn’t understand how something so (seemingly) benign could cause her such incredible, and to me anyway, over-the-top terror.  I continued to believe this was a fear she would “outgrow” and that it was only a matter of time before she did so.  But so far, her fear, while not as extreme as it once was, is very much intact.

I am on a family picnic.  My parents pull out a french baguette, an imported pâté, a coveted gift from my father’s sister who lives in Paris, and some Swiss chocolate.  I am hungry and excited as pâté and chocolate are two of my favorite things to eat.  On the way home I begin to feel sick.  By the time we return home, I am vomiting and have the flu, but associate the feeling of nausea with the pâté.   It is almost two decades before I can stand the smell of pâté, let alone taste it without gagging.

These are both relatively benign examples of sensory issues intersecting with memory and causing longer term associations, but what about intense trauma such as physical and emotional traumas?  What about the time when the ABA therapist locked Emma, who was only three years old, in her room for 30 minutes, instructing me to stay out or he would pull all our services, while she screamed and begged to be let out?  I know how traumatized I was and continue to be because of those 30 minutes, what about Emma’s experience?  Did this cause untold damage?  Did Emma experience the degree of trauma that I did?  Is her experience even more profound?  What about how she experienced her own mother not saving her from such a person?  How has she integrated these events into her life experience?  Is it felt as the ultimate betrayal?  How will it manifest in the future?

These are the things I think about.  Not because I am intent on beating myself up, but because these are things that happened and I don’t think any of us are served by NOT talking about them.  These are the kinds of dilemmas many parents have experienced.  These are the questions so many of us have. Questions that are, as yet, unanswered.  We have to ask ourselves when we are considering a methodology and those who will come into contact with our children, are they going to be respectful and kind?  Does this methodology presume competence, is it respectful of my child?  Will the person be patient? Will they treat our children as inferior because they see autism as an inferior neurology and one that needs to be “trained” away?

What does trauma do to the brain?

“Severe or repeated trauma can re-route emergency systems that are meant to be used only occasionally, and leaves them active, like a switch stuck in the “on” position. This can shrink or damage the part of the brain that thinks and plans, and potentially damages the brain’s ability to feel love and safety in the presence of others.

“To deal with this pain and stress, the individual may become more rigid and inflexible in his or her thinking and develop tunnel vision and selective listening. Over time to compensate for the damage done to the short term memory and ability to sequence by continued exposure to our fight or flight response, or allostasis, the individual may develop rituals, become rigid and controlling or “oppositional”, shut down, withdraw, rage, retreat into a special place, or become over-involved in things that help the individual to escape.” ~ Autism and Trauma:  Calming Anxious Brains 

It is tragic that the very methods a traumatized Autistic person may use to calm themselves from the trauma they’ve experienced, are often the very things those who are not Autistic pinpoint as “behaviors” or actions that must be stopped.   Not only is the person trying as best they can to deal with the initial traumatic event(s), but they are often being punished and told to stop using the only ways they know of that actually help them cope, thus creating further trauma.

Traumatic events often occur during developmentally vulnerable stages in the individual’s life, and in this process become intertwined with the child’s bio- psychosocial development. How easy it would be to dismiss this in a child with an ASD, who by definition is struggling with development of a sense of self, and is uncomfortable in an alien world, even prior to repeated exposure to trauma.” ~  Commentary: Complex Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder. Implications for Individuals with Autism Spectrum Disorders—Part II 

Trauma, in relation to autism, is something I wish I’d heard about during those first few years so that I might have made better and different choices for my daughter.  Those I know who are Autistic talk about their trauma often, yet there is very little written about trauma in relation to autism in the general conversations currently going on.  This must change.

Em with the dogs

The Insidiousness of Prejudice

A year ago, I would have gone to a parent/teacher conference and not thought twice about my daughter being in the same room while we spoke about her.  Six months ago, I knew enough to know that she understood what was being said even if she didn’t indicate that she did and would move to another room or arrange for child care during a conference so she would not be present.

This morning I received a passionate comment from someone who was responding to another comment about parent/teacher conferences.   You can see the whole comment by going to yesterday’s post, but she ended with this:

“These things can ONLY happen in context of a culture of acceptance of the exclusion of Autistic people from discussions about our own lives, and of acceptance of the ‘need’ to speak of us in negative inaccurate terms because that supposedly fulfills some ‘need’ that will bring us help and support. It doesn’t EVER bring us the support we actually need because negative inaccurate information ‘about’ us means any support is founded in untruth and therefore is not help and support of US as the ACTUAL human beings we are.

PLEASE, if you truly want to help Autistic people, stand up for our right to be part of the conversation about our own lives from a VERY young age. Advocating FOR us is GREAT, but ONLY if the purpose of that is to support us in our SELF-advocacy… and to put pressure on professionals to accept OUR voices and OUR choices as the determining forces in OUR lives.”

My initial reaction was a defensive one.  My first thought was – but children are never present at parent/teacher conferences.  And then I realized that isn’t true.  My son Nic is asked to attend our parent/teacher conferences and has been required to attend them since he entered middle school (the fifth grade, the age Emma is now).  My second thought was, but what if one of her teachers or an aide said something awful about Emma in front of her, what if they spoke of her in language that would be hurtful?  I can’t control how others speak.  But then I realized that were this to happen in my son’s presence I would not hesitate in saying something in front of him to that person.  I would correct them and tell them why it was unacceptable and he would hear this and understand that this person was wrong in speaking this way about him.  Then I thought, but wait, we might need to discuss topics that might make her sad, things about self-injurious behaviors or how she ran out into the hallway and it wouldn’t be appropriate for her to hear these kinds of conversations, but again I thought of my son and realized how we would include him in the conversation.  As I went through the various reasons why I couldn’t do what the commenter suggested, I saw quickly just how insidious the ingrained prejudices regarding autism are.  I saw how I still have so much more to learn.  And so I continue to and I tweak my thinking and my behavior and then someone else tells me something and I have to think about their words and then I have to tweak my behavior some more.

Directly after reading this thought-provoking comment (I am so grateful to the writer for having sent it) I received an email from someone I care deeply about.  I do not have explicit permission to write about the specifics so I will not, but it was about where these kinds of ingrained beliefs can lead.  It was about abuse.  It was a story I am becoming more and more familiar with.  It was about someone I know.  It was about a defenseless, nonverbal child.  It was about more than one event.  It was about many, many abuses occurring over and over by many, many different people.  My horror is never lessened no matter how many times I hear of this.  In fact my horror increases.  What I used to believe, what I used to console myself with, that these were unusual, isolated instances of horrible people behaving in heinous way, is not something I can cling to any more.  These stories are everywhere and I am hearing them all the time now.  I cannot console myself that they are unusual.  I can no longer wrap myself in a cocoon of optimistic assurances that this hasn’t happened and will never happen to my daughter, because even if we are lucky enough that they do not happen to our specific child, they are occurring constantly to other people’s children.  How is that any better?  How is that any different?

The abuse of people who are considered “less than” and “incompetent”.  The physical, sexual and emotional abuse that Autistic people and children are having to endure at the hands of people ALL THE TIME that they come into contact with, at school, their care givers, the people they are suppose to be able to trust, their relatives, neighbors, the list goes on and on.  This is going on around us and to those we love and care about.  This is about people who are hurting, not just our children, but people all over the world who are deemed “less than”.  This is so much bigger than “our children”.

Em’s “self-portrait” – 2011