Looking Into the Past - The Trauma Process
I went outside and into the darkness. I was accustomed to the dark and all that dwelt therein. I do not really know why I went outside when I did; I suppose it seemed the things that haunted me there couldn’t be any worse than the ones that haunted me when I was locked up indoors. I could see nothing outside, and there was no sound. I sat, listened… for what, I do not know. Something strange began to happen. My eyes started to become accustomed to the night sky. One by one, tiny stars appeared. There was nothing else to do, so I decided to count these few stars. ‘One, two, three… eight, nine, ten… Wait.’ The more stars I counted, the more stars I could see. ‘What’s the use then’, I said, feeling overwhelmed. I dropped my gaze. I was then amazed to see the outline of trees in the distance as my eyes continued to adjust to what had previously felt like nothingness. ‘What is that? Crickets?’ I could hear them. I also began to feel a slight breeze on my skin – cool and somewhat uncomfortable at first. But then it warmed, and I breathed it in. It was the first breath I had taken in a long time, and it both eased and confused me.
Then, there they were - the things that lived in the darkness of my past. I always knew they were there, but now to see them… I could not. I closed my eyes tightly, knowing that if I just returned to complete darkness, I could remain unaware. After all, these were the hurts, the fears, the sources of so much shame and doubt that had been with me for so long. Who could blame me for not wanting to see? But the stars, the trees, the breeze, the ground beneath me… they called to me. How could I go back to nothing? I slowly opened my eyes, and the now-illuminated night rushed into my body. Those things, terrible roots of pain, were still there, still a part of the darkness, but they had taken on a new presence. The things living in the darkness of my past were not attacking, screaming, haunting. They were still, frozen in time. Once they had raged in the dark, and now they took their place as part of the landscape of my past, and I could see. They were there, but I realized, as my sight continued to awaken, that they were losing their power, fading, and becoming silent as I committed to accepting my surroundings.
Time slipped by. I sat with this newness. Before I knew it, I could see the faint glow of the beginning - just the beginning - of sunrise.
The process of dealing with trauma is not easy. In fact, it often gets worse before it gets better as we gain a greater sense of self-awareness and willingness to explore. If you acknowledge that you may have experienced something that changed you in some way, you have already taken the first step toward healing… toward being changed. There is no ideal timeline for healing, and no ‘best’ system for recovery. We need what we need. Those unique needs are the foundation of an effective, nonjudgmental therapeutic process.