Comfort in Chaos
Understanding Trauma
Brain
I make no bones about it, as a foster child, I
don’t think I was an easy person to get along with and I certainly wasn’t
trying to make bonds or connections with those around me. I went into foster
care at the age of 13. My life prior to entering the system was one of immense
dysfunction, and I had practically raised myself. My mom was rarely around, and
when she was it was usually to tell me that we were moving. We moved over 50 times and I went to more
than 35 schools in my life before the age of 13. Chaos had become my
normal.
In learning to “cover” for my mom’s actions, and watching my mom
talk her way out of almost any situation, I had learned a valuable skill over
my early life . . .lying. It had become
a valuable skill and had saved me numerous times from severe punishments.
I had thought foster care would be a positive solution to the life I
was living. What I found was more of the same. Loneliness, isolation and
depression followed me into care. I had become disconnected from my feelings
and accepted that I was unable to love and was unlovable myself. I continued past behaviors and found no solace
in the families that took me in.
I ultimately aged out of the system at 18, turned loose onto
the world without any real connections to other people. When I hit the college
campus, a feat I wouldn’t learn was remarkable until later, I made a pact with
myself to never talk about my past with anyone. I was a good liar and because
of my skill I kept that promise for over 20 years.
I spent those years, hiding the past, keeping myself at arms
length from any real relationships and doing the one thing I was knew I was
good at, “lying”. I didn’t know it at the time, but I found myself in what I
now refer to as “trauma brain.” Going to that comfortable place in my mind of
Fight, Flight, Freeze or Appease.
Chaos was comfortable for me. When things in my life were
going well, I looked for and caused chaos for myself so I could feel
“comfortable.” I of course didn’t realize, at least consciously, that I was doing
it; until I started to become increasingly unsettled with the life I was
living. I had a good job, managed to get married and had a child, but I was
only comfortable in the unknown and I wanted to change.
For most of my life, I chalked up my behavior to the idea
that I was just “crazy.” It was a concept that I was comfortable with, and I
had known it was only a matter of time until I turned into my “crazy mother.”
At the time, I was working in a law office, and I was watching clients with
similar tendencies. I had wondered about their past and when I started to ask,
I was surprised by how many of them had been former foster kids. I had always
assumed there were very few of me, and the numbers appearing in my office was
off putting to say the least.
Flash forward. In an effort to find peace in my life, I initially
turned to self-help books. I found a little relief, but often found myself
going back to old habits. I started to realize that hiding my demons was only
making me more depressed, and more disconnected.
I tried everything, more books, journaling, yoga,
meditation, and hiking. Physical exertion was having an impact, but it only
lasted a few hours, and then I was back in mind, returning to old habits.
Finally, I realized that I had to tell my story. I wrote Garbage Bag Suitcase
and began diving into understanding trauma and its effects on the brain.
The research began turning me onto new books, and suddenly I
understood my “trauma brain” in a whole new way. I wasn’t “crazy” my brain was
just programed to constantly be in Fight, Flight, Freeze, Appease mode, and
this knowledge changed everything for me.
I recently heard Dr. Cathy Fialon explain trauma brain as a
sledding hill. When you go sledding the path becomes worn, and when you go down
how you gain greater speed. The well-worn path is easy, and comfortable.
However, if you take your sled over a few feet to a part of the hill that
hasn’t been used, it is difficult to slide down, you can’t gain momentum, and
you often start and stop a lot. It takes time, she explained, to break in this
new path and make it enjoyable for sledding.
I understood exactly what she meant. My learned reactions as
a child had become the well-worn sledding hill. It was easy for me to go down
that road, regardless of the effects. But, when I started working on myself
(i.e. taking my sled to a new hill) it was difficult. Don’t get me wrong, while
I’m still working on breaking in my new path, every once in awhile I like to
take a spin on the old one.
That is “trauma brain” retraining ourselves, and oftentimes
those we care about, how to break in a new way of thinking. I am thrilled to
say, that I have a new career that allows me to help others recognize their
trauma brain and the trauma brain of those around them, to help themselves and
other heal in a brand new way. We all deserve to try out a new place to sled.
Shenandoah Chefalo is
a former foster youth, and advocate. She is the author of the memoir, Garbage
Bag Suitcase, and co-founder of Good Harbor Institute an organization focused
on ensuring sustainable, implemented trauma care within organizations and
individuals. You can learn more about her and her work at www.garbagebagsuitcase.com or www.goodharborinst.com
