Do We Ever Really Recover from Trauma?

As I sit down to write this, it is as if I can feel all the specks and threads of my traumatised self, twinkling in the deep ocean of my inner universe. My nervous system is lighting up as these fragments say hello to me. And I am reminded of how much I have been through. How intense and destabilising my reactions have been –  physically, emotionally and relationally. How I was completely devoid from any sense of safety. How the world and my own breath were a threat to me. There was a constant wild fear coursing through my system; that I became somewhat good at masking with an inauthentic shell that thickened and hardened over time… until it cracked and shattered from the perceived weight of the world and the inability to contain one more ounce of experience.

And I am also reminded that I am nothing like the traumatised young woman I once was. I can feel the ground now. I can stand here present in my body and feel a sense of safety. Both internally and in the world around me. And as I write this bit, I feel a sense of internal spaciousness in conjunction with a deep gratefulness for the safety within my breath and my gentle heartbeat.

Those traumatised parts; all those fragments of devastating experience… they are still there. But they are just little specks and threads that I know deeply. That I accept. That are welcome to pop up and say hello to me. They do not rip me open beyond repair. Sure, there are times when they take me by surprise. But I know them so deeply, that eventually, no matter how disrupted I become, I recognise them and I know how to support them to retract out of their screaming, yearning, pushing, pulling, disorganised expression. I can let them have their moment on the stage that is my life, and bring them back to my present, open heart and re-integrate once more.

This ability to come back from fragmentation, over and over again… to me, this is the mark of recovery. There is a beauty to it. And an authenticity. There is no trying to be someone else or some perfect ‘healed’ human specimen. There is just me, acknowledging every moment that has brought me to now. And my tribe of traumatised parts, they have a new leader. This part that has evolved within me; she is a shepherd, a nurturer, a truth-teller and accepts all my traumatized bits, but will not let them diminish her. She is an expert boundary setter and mediator. She holds space as all my parts continue to negotiate the space that is my existence. And she can reach out beyond my singular human container to seek connection when she is at capacity. She stops the shut-down from setting in and taking me back into the isolation that trauma brings.

So back to the original question: do we ever really recover from trauma?

I think it depends on what recovery means to you.

If you define it as being perfect and whole and devoid of triggers and reactions; then no, I don’t believe we do.

If you define it as becoming aware of your own specks and threads and developing capacity for your own experience and building a toolkit of techniques to support a return to safety; then yes, I believe we can. And I believe I have.

The thing about our traumatised selves, is they don’t really need to be ‘healed’. They just need a safe space to tell their stories and find a place to belong inside ourselves. It is this integration or belonging that they were seeking in the first place.