Acquiring a disability, especially one like spinal cord injury, can often be a traumatic experience. The injury itself, the resulting threat to health and even life, the months spent in hospitals and medical systems, the loss of function and sometimes sense of self, the grief of such loss: it can all add up and take a significant toll on mental health and wellness. For some, resilience factors are enough to mitigate these effects. Care and support from loved ones, a strong community, faith and spirituality, financial security, and good health insurance are just a few examples of what might help to ease psychological and emotional suffering. For me, all these things were not enough to prevent anxiety, depression, and suicidality in the face of such a devastating injury. In fact, the experience only exacerbated what was already there. However, over time and with continued support from these various factors, I experienced what is referred to as post-traumatic growth. I was able to find strength, to build deeper, closer relationships, to seek new opportunities, and to build personal meaning from my trauma.
I have been incredibly blessed to have resources and privileges that have allowed me to flourish despite such deep and sometimes crushing pain. For others, however, a lack of resilience factors and resources can be the difference between post-traumatic growth and continued suffering. It’s important to point out that there is fluidity here; there are folks who show incredible resilience despite a lack of protective factors and others who struggle with severe mental health issues despite having a plethora of these factors. It is impossible to say how a person will respond to trauma until they experience it. However you respond, it is valid.
Regardless, trauma has a way of mapping itself onto the brain and body; smells, visual reminders, touch, similar scenarios, and more can cause flashbacks of your own experience or even moments of dissociation. You might feel on edge or on guard for danger when a trauma reminder occurs. Or you might avoid anything that reminds you of it to escape the intense fear and anxiety that follows. Nightmares, exaggerated startle responses (jumpiness), and increased irritability can also occur. These are a constellation of trauma responses that taken together can mean that you are experiencing post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD).
I experienced some of these symptoms after my injury; I couldn’t go near the pool where it happened, I became jumpy and anxious when I saw people dive headfirst or hurt their neck on tv, and I was sometimes irritable when reminded of the experience. However, none of these things were severe enough or happened often enough for it to interfere with my relationships, goals, and daily life. I was deeply affected by my trauma, but not to the point where I couldn’t work through it.
Maybe that’s where you are at – deeply affected but working through it. And maybe you are wrestling with these symptoms to a point where you feel you cannot live your life in a way that is meaningful and fulfilling to you. If that is the case, my sincere hope is that you can reach out for the help you deserve. Because the good news is that there is hope. Our brains have neuroplasticity – they can change and build new pathways throughout the lifespan. Trauma can be processed and integrated. As a clinician who works with clients with trauma and PTSD, I have seen the change and healing that can occur when people begin to examine and understand their trauma. And this work has helped me to better understand my own.
I’ll leave you with my favorite metaphor for trauma. Contrary to popular opinion (and wishful thinking), trauma does not leave you – you can’t “just get over it” or “forget it”. It is more like a backpack that you put on and once on, can never take off. As you start this journey with your new backpack, it might be so large and overstuffed that you are bowed over by the weight. Every step is a struggle, and you wonder why a simple step leaves you exhausted. So you decide to reexamine some of the things in your backpack. It turns out you can get rid of those heavy cast-iron pots – you don’t actually need them! And the tent that made you feel safe to have? There are motels and friends’ houses to stay at – you don’t need that either. Suddenly your pack is a little lighter. It’s still there and you still can’t take it off, but it’s easier to carry.
Trauma is inherently difficult to talk about, and no matter where you are in your journey with it, my hope is that your pack becomes light and easy to carry. Remember that you have a whole community behind you at United Spinal. We are #StrongWheeledTogether.
