Overcoming Trauma: A Steely Gaze and a Most Determined Heart

Winter might be the time for holiday caroling, but quite different sounds emerge from my body at this time of year.

As the ice and snow bombard western Canada, an ordinary car ride with my spouse becomes an exercise in terror.

Matthew is an excellent, experienced driver, but the moment I find myself freezing in the passenger seat any unprocessed or semi-processed trauma comes zooming out of my nervous system like an army of flying monkeys.

My early warning system is on high alert, going off like a visceral gong or a siren of bodily panic. I don’t trust anyone driving a vehicle, I don’t trust disaster not to happen, I don’t trust the tires to grip the road or the brakes not to lock.

I know the reality of my fear is very thin ice. The weather is not that bad. The highway is not that slick. Our car is in good repair. Perhaps other drivers are not all homicidal maniacs.

My nervous system can be reckoned with but not reasoned with. As the winter weeks pass, I will get used to the threatening conditions until I no longer find the conditions threatening. The shock response I keep experiencing is the feeling of being out of control, the threat of being grievously hurt and not being able to stop it.

But I am writing this also to say I am proud of myself.

I watched my father for many years act like an animal in the passenger seat of any vehicle, shouting and swearing, his fear translated into an unreasoning rage I will never forget although I no longer have a relationship with him.

My father never confronted his traumas. He took his unprocessed trauma out on others, who he blamed for what was wrong with his life, who he blamed for what was wrong with him.

My mother always sat mutely by his side, pretending that what was happening was not happening. She never challenged him to examine his feelings, to stop the abuse, to get professional help.

So, I am relieved and happy that independently, I recognized I had problems, I sought professional help, and I have spent considerable time and effort analyzing my own behavior and its causes.

I am a better person today, a stronger person, because any fear I’ve had I’ve faced. Overcoming trauma, I have a steely gaze and a most determined heart.

While I cannot purge trauma from my life experience, I can name it, recognize it, overcome it.

I am not a victim. I am an artist who uses trauma as a muse for creation and self-definition.

In the depth of winter, there is always the promise of spring.

A Most Determined Heart