How Trauma and Abuse Become Internalized and My Secrets to Breaking Free From It

Have you ever talked to someone who references the same old memory or time in their life in every conversation? 

“When so-and-so was alive, I used to...”

“Things haven’t been the same since my surgery / physical injury / car accident in such and such year...”

“During pandemic we did things this way... and now everything is different... I wish things were the way they used to be.”

“I remember in my childhood, every summer we used to...”

These references to past events and experiences are a good indication that trauma is trapped somewhere in the system.

What is trauma? My definition of trauma is an event or series of events that changes one’s perceptions of their physical, emotional and sensory reality and relationship to their external environment. It can be sudden or gradual, conscious or unconscious and experienced either first-hand or vicariously through another’s experience. 

The internalization of trauma is a process by which the energetic imprint of the experience or memory of the event is trapped inside the cellular memory of the physical body. This distorts one’s ability to regulate their nervous system and maintain hormonal and organ homeostasis. It can also create dysfunctional habits and coping mechanisms that are often unapparent to the person doing them.

External triggers like certain places, circumstances, sounds, smells, images, words or phrases related to the trauma can consciously or unconsciously elicit an over-exaggerated perception of fear and feeling unsafe. This leads to a cascade of physiological dis-regulation that causes brain fog, lack of focus, dread, anxiety, systemic inflammation, autoimmune disease, weight gain, hormonal imbalance, high blood pressure, muscle tension, the list goes on and on. As a result, one can also develop avoidance behaviors or maladaptive responses to external triggers.

Trauma that is internalized emotionally can cause someone to feel blame, shame and responsibility for what happened, and oftentimes re-perpetrate the trauma onto themselves or relive the felt experience through their physical bodies. This is the body’s way of trying to complete the cycle of release of that trapped energy from the traumatic event. Unfortunately, this physiological response oftentimes ends up recreating a hamster wheel effect of limbic system looping that keeps someone stuck in the old nervous system reactions and felt emotional experience.

Internalized trauma can cause a deep distorted belief about the inherent goodness or self-worth of the person. What I’m referring to specifically are thoughts like, “What did I do to deserve that? What if I did things differently that day? Am I worthy of love? Am I inherently good?”

First off, if you are in a place of relating to any of these questions, I want you to know with deep love that you didn’t do any thing to deserve what happened. It just happened.

It doesn’t matter if you did things differently that day or at that moment. What happened happened then.

Cherish your life in this moment... Because you are inherently good, worthy and lovable. That is your birthright.

Continue reading this article on Substack: https://melanieadrianna.substack.com/p/how-trauma-and-abuse-become

Burying the Dead: The Cyclic Nature of Release and New Life

When I was little I could communicate with and often see the unseen world of ghosts, poltergeists and astral beings. 

Growing up in a '60s home built on top of a Native American burial ground and reincarnating into a family with no shortage of ancestral baggage, I was primed in the best training ground possible to develop sensitivities to navigate the unseen world.

I remember sitting on the living room couch watching the shadowy silhouettes of Native Americans and the hunters and trappers who occupied the land. Seeing my mother’s deceased cat Puffer Belly mosey on by from the corner of my eye. Pushing a paw away from my left shoulder as I was writing up a school paper on my laptop.

My street was exactly half a mile long, and I lived at the dead end, the lowest foundation on the street. During my middle school years, the school bus would drop me off at the top of the long hill after school, and I was the first one to reach home in my family of four. Because I had the house to myself, I took advance of the space to make pizza rolls and lounge in front of the TV watching Doug and Even Stevens.

For a series of months or years — time is a blur at this point - I witnessed a strange occurrence during my daily pizza role ritual. It happened at the same time each day. The clunky faucet in the side half bathroom would turn on and run for about five minutes, until, chachum, it magically shut off. I would sit there frozen on the couch, listening and observing, thinking that as long I didn’t move, the ghosts wouldn’t bother me.

Throughout the years, I witnessed many objects move from place to place as if portaling through Narnia’s lost and found or moving spontaneously without human intervention. My mother’s purse handles moving. Lights flickering. Objects flying off shelves.

And then there were the angelic and demonic beings. I remember occurrences of witnessing seven-foot-tall bursts of light or light apparitions swooshing across the room. I felt comforted and awed by their presence. The dark silhouettes were less welcoming. Seeing shadowy figures at the foot of my bed made me freeze and bristle like a porcupine. I would squeeze my teddy bear, drape my blankets tight over my body wrapped up like a cocoon, and pray the Hail Mary until I could fall asleep.

Continue reading this article on Substack: https://melanieadrianna.substack.com/p/burying-dead