Early relational trauma and my gradual awakening to my body

Conspicious Body

Anna Hawkins' Individualized Master's Thesis

Visual culture and an aesthetics of embodiment

What I Learned From Sex and the City

Better than Real

Uses of the erotic

Nature and Madness

Trauma, Dissociation, And Disorganized Attachment

Learning to be Embodied

 

Alexandra Hartman
Ellie Epp
March 31, 2006

(MS Word format)

Early relational trauma and my gradual awakening to my body

"The body is the storm-center, the origin of coordinates, the constant place of stress in [our] experience-train. Everything circles round it, and is felt from its point of view." William James (86).

My mother was 22 years old, and eight and a half months pregnant when my father was killed in the crash of a commercial airliner in Japan. I was born two weeks later. I can only imagine my mother's grief and denial. I can only imagine her pain, compounded by blinding grief while giving birth to me alone in a hospital in Japan. I can only imagine her rage at being robbed of her husband and the father of her child. I can only imagine her sense of frustration and failure when I refused to allow her to feed me, or hold me in her arms for weeks after my birth. I can only imagine how she felt when I reached to her for food, comfort and love.

I was a shy, solitary child and I spent my childhood immersed in books. I had a low tolerance for stress and I struggled to avoid feelings of anxiety and agitation. As I grew older, whenever I felt fearful or overstressed I'd mentally leave my body and observe my surroundings from a safe mental distance. I also learned to pull my mind away from my body by dragging my attention hard to my right. These retreats from reality are known as dissociation, a defense mechanism against strong feelings of anxiety that threaten to overwhelm the person who is experiencing them. Dissociation is not uncommon, nor is dissociation pathological in and of itself. Scaer defines dissociation as, "Fragmentation and splitting of the mind, and perception of the self and the body" (Scaer). Dissociation should be viewed along a continuum from mild dissociation, experienced by someone so engrossed in a that time slips away unnoticed, to dissociative identity disorder (formerly multiple personality disorder), in which separate personalities develop for separate sets of memories.

Etherington calls dissociation, ".a mechanism that creates a split in conscious awareness that allows the traumatized person to disconnect from parts of their experience in order to reduce the impact and thereby survive." (27).

For most of my life, I've focused on my mind without having much body awareness. I've never taken great pleasure in my body or pride in my body's appearance. I've never exercised simply to feel my body move. I've always directed a great deal of shame toward my body and concentrated instead on using my mind for learning and communicating. Levine says, ".dissociation may be experienced as part of the body being disconnected or almost absent." (17).

Henderson says, ".a decision has been made that "you" live up there in your skull. That boundary at the neck cuts you off from the greater part of your experience, your feelings, your perceptions, even your mind. This leaves a lot of you uninhabited and unconsidered. A lot of your life is not conscious in you." (27).

Dissociation is usually seen as a response to severe trauma. "Trauma has been identified as the principal antecedent to dissociative disorders" (Lego, 1996), but I have no memories of overt abuse, so for years I wondered if I had suppressed childhood memories or if family confrontations might have prompted my retreat into dissociation. Liotti finally gave me an answer to that question when I read, "Interactions. not obviously comprising maltreatment, can induce a failure in the integrative functions of consciousness at the beginning of life and deserve the name of 'early relational trauma...'" (478). In other words, a child can adopt dissociation as a defensive response to influences other than overt trauma and abuse.

Liotti says, "Traumatic losses. in the life of the dissociative patients' mothers that took place. 2 years before to 2 years after the patients' births proved to be a significant risk factor for the development of dissociative disorders." (476) My father had only been dead for two weeks when I was born, and my mother must still have been in deep shock.

Liotti adds, ".a parent's state of mind, unresolved as to traumas, may interfere in the communication between parent and child. .parents' unresolved states of mind can induce .dissociative reactions in the infant even when the parents' behavior does not obviously constitute maltreatment." (477-8).

My mother gave birth to me alone in a foreign country, across the world from her friends and family The joy that should have accompanied my birth was tempered by enormous grief. Her situation must have been almost unbearable. Liotti cites John Bowlby's work with attachment theory which holds that :

".humans. are born with a strong, evolved tendency to seek care, help, and comfort from members of the social group whenever they are suffering from physical or emotional distress. .the care-seeking or attachment system. is powerfully activated during and after any experience of fear, physical pain, or psychological pain. Usually, the propensity to seek protection and comfort is met with positive responses from significant others. The inborn disposition to care for one's kin. which matches the equally inborn tendency to ask for help, provides the basis for a relatively smooth functioning of caregiving- careseeking interactions. (477)

Normally, an infant's cries for food and/or comfort are met with an instinctive and sympathetic nurturing response from the parent. But when the mother is overwhelmed by her own grief and trauma, she may respond to her baby's cries with sadness, stress or anger.

When unresolved traumatic memories surface in the mind of parents while they are responding to the attachment requests of their children, the mental suffering linked to these memories activates the parents' attachment system together with their caregiving system. In the absence of soothing responses from significant others (perceived as "stronger and/or wiser" than the suffering self.), the activation of the attachment system arouses in the parent strong emotions of fear and/or anger. Thus, while infants are crying, "unresolved" parents may interrupt their attempts to soothe them. with unwitting, abrupt manifestations of alarm and/or of... Caregivers' abrupt manifestation of both anger and fear are always frightening to infants. The innate defensive reaction of escaping from the signal of threat. ensues in the infant. The increased relational distance, however, further activates the (equally inborn) infant's attachment system, because increased distance from the attachment figure innately strengthens the need for protective proximity, whatever the behavior of the attachment figure may be. The attachment figure. is "at once the source and the solution" . of the infant's alarm, and this leads to fright without solution (477).

Liotti cites specific neurological damage caused by early relational trauma in, "the right-brain system (connecting limbic emotional centers to the neocortex through the crossroad of the orbitofrontal cortex) that is involved in coping with emotional stressors develops along unfavorable lines in the face of chronic early relational traumas." (478).

My mother's loss was clearly traumatic, but I never understood how her grief could be interpreted by me as an infant, but Gilligan says, ".as babies we pick up and respond to emotions in a third of a second, registering pleasure or anger or whatever emotion is felt by the person relating to us." (6)

I believe experiencing my mother's prenatal trauma and continuing grief and sadness caused me to perceive my mother as a fearful influence, and this encouraged me to dissociate, first from my mother and then from my body.

As I've matured, I've found better ways to cope with strong emotions than engaging in the more pathological forms of dissociation, however at times of stress, I still try to distance myself with mental distraction, food and alcohol.

As a child I was always hungry. Hungry for food, I hoarded sweets beneath my bed and my body grew. Hungry for attention, I endured criticism from my family and taunts from my peers because the appearance of the body didn't conform to societal norms.

Hungry for rescue, I imagined myself a victim saved by handsome men. Hungry for companionship, I pressed my back against my bedroom door to prevent friends from leaving, while their parents called them home. Hungry for acceptance as a young teenager I drank, did drugs, and had sex with boys.

Hunger, desire and lack of control twist through my life like cords, as does dissociation. I've always felt out of control, and my body has never felt like part of me. It's felt like an other. Like something I drag below me. I've never been satisfied with the way my body looks, or appreciated how beautifully it works, nor have I treated it with anything but contempt. I'm strong and healthy, but I've responded to my body with restriction and hatred, and never been able to rid myself of my desire.

Levine says, " I surmised that successful healing methods inevitably involve establishing connection to the body" (28). To that end, I've begun turning my awareness into my body by meditating into it and discovering its inherent wisdom. The process is simple. I lie comfortably rather than sitting on a hard pillow as one would for traditional meditation. I make myself quiet and start to observe. I begin at the center, and concentrate on the physical and emotional impressions I find. Soon I notice my belly throbbing and burning like a bowl of lava. I notice energy racing through my hands and feet. And I find quiet answers there.

As Katherine Thanas says in her essay, Hearing the Voice of the Body, "As this newly compassionate observing occurs, the object of observation, the body/self, is transformed, and we move from denial to acceptance, from rejection to inclusion" (44).

My emotions have been contained for 50 years, but when I meditate on my body, they surface easily, because they're eager to be noticed. There's deep sadness in my body, and I cry easily when I turn my attention to it, but there's stillness there too. I am emotion embodied. My body is wise. It is God. It is the spirituality I've always hungered for but felt cut off from.

As Arnold Weinstein says, "[w]e are somatic creatures, living in bodies, having emotions, bathed by sensations, at times bubbling and simmering, at times dawdling and eddying, hot and cold, nervous and calm, fearful and yearning, hungry and satiated."

This is the way to my healing.


Works sited
Etherington, Kim (Editor). Trauma, the Body and Transformation : A Narrative Inquiry. Philadelphia, PA, USA: Jessica Kingsley Publishers, 2003.

Henderson, Julie. The Lover Within : Opening to Energy in Sexual Practice . Barrytown, N.Y: Station Hill P, 1986.

James, William. "The Experience of Activity," Essays in Radical Empiricism . Cambridge: Harvard UP, 1976.

Levine, Peter A. Healing Trauma: A Pioneering Program for Restoring the Wisdom of Your Body . Louisville, CO: Sounds True, 2005.

Liotti, Giovanni. " Trauma, Dissociation, And Disorganized Attachment: Three Strands of a Single Braid ." Psychotherapy: Theory, Research, Practice, Training 41.4 (2004): 472-486.

Scaer, Robert C. "The Neurophysiology of Dissociation and Chronic Disease." Applied Psychophysiology and Biofeedback 26 (2001): 73-91. 2 Apr. 2006 <http://www.trauma-pages.com/scaer-2001.htm>.

Steinberg, Marlene, and Maxine Schnall. The Stranger in the Mirror Dissociation--the Hidden Epidemic . 1st Ed. ed. New York: Cliff Street Books, 2000.

Thanas, Katherine. "Hearing the Voice of the Body." Being Bodies: Buddhist Women on the Paradox of Embodiment . Ed. Friedman, Lenore, and Susan Ichi Su Moon. 1st Ed. ed. Boston: Shambhala, 1997. 43-47.

Weinstein, Arnold. A Scream Goes Through The House . New York: Random House, 2003.