PULLING OUT THE ARROW

The classic symptoms of chronic childhood trauma or Complex PTSD are shame and guilt. Today, we look at the mechanism underlying these tendencies, and hopefully, the insights would be a foundation for change. 

As children, it was very difficult for us to be angry at our parents, even if they had hurt us and let us down. Admitting that our parents were neglectful or abusive was a life-threatening prospect, for they were the only people we could depend on.  

If we knew our parents could not tolerate disobedience, or that we would be punished for creating conflicts, it made sense for us to blame ourselves rather than to risk confronting them. We dared not be critical of the authority whose goodwill was essential to our survival, so our young minds would rather deny our pain. This results in the psychodynamic process of 'turning against oneself', where we redirect anger and resentment for others toward ourselves. We started to interpret any mistreatment as our fault. Our righteous anger became internalised guilt and shame. 

In parts, self-blame is related to our need to feel in control. More terrifying than anything else in this world the feeling of complete powerlessness in an unpredictable, precarious universe. Let alone children, even for adults this is an existential threat. To evade such horror, we resorted to the conclusion that it was our fault that bad things happened. We would rather believe we did something to make it happen— Because we were not good enough, or that we didn't do what we could. We thought if we hadn't expected too much, hoped too much, trusted so much, we would not have been hurt. Self-blame gave us an explanation of the unbearable things that have happened; somehow it was more tolerable than the alternative — that the people who we trusted had betrayed us, or that the world is a hostile place. As psychologist Fairbairn said: It is better to live as a sinner in a world created by God than to live in a world created by the devil'.  

Carrying this pattern into adulthood, we become an anxious perfectionist. 

We blame ourselves for everything; we assume responsibility for other people's dysfunctions or misfortune. 

We constantly try to fix things and neglect our own needs. When things do not go away or when we make the slightest error, we drown in cycles of guilt and shame. 

When we deny what had happened to us, we do not forget it. Our trauma is stored in our bodies in frozen form. It might have been what we needed to do to survive childhood trauma, but it sets a dangerous trap. When anger is internalised, we become psychologically, and sometimes physically, violent to ourselves. It is time we stop chasing our own tails.  

We must reclaim our rights to feel and to practise expressing healthy anger. 

At the core of our anger is deep grief. However, before mourning, there is value in honouring the pure energy of our anger, resentment, and grievance.

We are all born with a healthy sense of anger towards injustice. It is a natural impulse of self-protection. 

At its score, anger is a cry for help. It comes from the place in us that feels lost, disempowered, to the point our tears are dry. Recognising anger's real face allows us to befriend it, be open to it, rather than to regard it as something bad. anger is only destructive when we turn it into a weapon against ourselves or others. 

Healthy anger is the gateway to feeling courage in our body, having clarity in our mind, and being empowered in our spirit. It yanks us out of paralysing self-hate. 

Using mindfulness, we can allow ourselves to feel the pulsating sensation it creates in our cells. We shall practise making ourselves a channel, through which the spirit of anger could come in, get through, and eventually leave our system. When we see anger in its true form, we embrace, even cherish it as a vital life force.  

"What is the most healing about bearing witness to things exactly as they are, including my own part in my pain, is that when the voice of the pain fits the pain, there is no room for distortion or illusion. In this way, truth becomes a clean bandage that heals, seeing dirt out of the wound"

- Mark Nepo

THIs week experiment:  cutting the energetic cord

Think of a person you have an unhealthy or codependent relationship with.

Draw, or find images from magazines and the internet to represent yourself and the other person.

Now, imagine that there is an energetic tie between you.

See it as a cord, and visualise what it looks like. It might be a rope, a chain, a string, or a beam of light.

The materials, colour and texture of this cord represent the strength of your emotional ties and the quality of your attachment.

Draw the cord out.

Now, imagine having a tool that would help you cut the ties. Perhaps a pair of scissors, a sword, a knife, or something more powerful. Imagine cutting the cord.

Now, symbolically cut the ties by ripping the paper.

It does not mean you detach from this person entirely. What you cut is the unhealthy, codependent part of the relationship.

Use this ritual to help yourself attain healthy individuation.

Without a dysfunctional tie, you are now free to express your thoughts and feelings to them.

You may want to use images, words and colour around to tell them how you truly feel.

Take a few moments to feel your body after the exercise.

Register what it is like to be honest.