Trauma:

An Alternative Understanding

I recently heard a podcast with the poet, Andrea Gibson, who said that “trauma is the unraveling of the core belief that we are unconditionally loved.”

I consider this, especially, in conjunction with anxiety. (As in a condition / generalized anxiety disorder).

I think of them in conjunction because the more that I’ve read about anxiety and trauma, I understand how anxiety [can] manifest as a result or byproduct of trauma. In other words, that anxiety is a symptom of trauma.

Of course, not always. Generalized anxiety disorder can be a caused by many factors, including, but not limited, to: genetics, physiological reasons, gut microbiome imbalances, a poorly functioning vagus nerve, an imbalance of hormones/neuro chemicals, etc.

So many reasons. It would be easier if it was more simply traced and diagnosed, in order to treat it. But, that is not the case.

We need better language to communicate about it, because we don’t often differentiate between the emotions of anxiety and (being) depressed and the conditions/mental illnesses of depression and anxiety. They are too often conflated.

But—I digress. Most importantly, as someone who has experienced depression, generalized anxiety as well as (Complex Post) Traumatic Stress, I have struggled to understand the combination of all of them, and their overlapping, concentric circles.

With me, as for many other people, they are intersecting Venn Diagrams.

I have released any control and I don’t harbor any misconceptions that I will be able to understand the root causes of all of them. They overlap and bleed into each other so much.

But—I do think this:

Too often we chalk up mental illnesses of depression (or major depressive episodes) and anxiety (as in generalized anxiety disorders) as genetic or weaknesses of the mind.

But in positioning it or questioning if it is due to trauma, this is what it does:

It acknowledges the situational and outer factors, such as adverse childhood experiences, abusive parents, dysfunctional families, substance abuse disorders, intergenerational trauma, epigenetics, and so many others, that all contribute to trauma, which can then contribute to anxiety and depression. (Again, not always, but it can. I firmly believe that there are many many root causes, or reasons, for depression and anxiety.)

Also—

I think too often people who don’t have anxiety (as a condition) have a hard time understanding why people can’t just relax or not fixate on situations, which is common for those with generalized anxiety disorder.

This is also why then I understand the poet, Andrea Gibson, when she says that anxiety is a language that she must translate for her loved ones.

(Get out of here with your unsolicited advice with drinking a fucking cup of chamomile tea to relax.)

Acknowledging how trauma can lead to anxiety, also suggests that is not an inherent weakness, or that you are mentally feeble, and that that’s why you can’t control your anxiety.

This also holds space for those who are people-pleasing, showcasing this outward displays of insecurity, and (too often feminine) core belief that I have to put myself down and others above me, to always take care of and serve others, which often also comes as a result of anxiety. Rather than just seeing these people (with anxiety) as needy or annoying or weak, instead, repositioning it and thinking of it as a product of trauma, allows for more validation that they are like this for a reason.

I would go further and argue, that some of this anxiety arises as survival mechanisms. When you live in an unstable, volatile home, and you have that ongoing trauma, you get very good at reading others, monitoring the situation, almost like it’s a pressure gage that you must constantly monitor. When you regularly walk on eggshells, you become hyperaware and hypersensitive to your surroundings. It’s a survival technique, that we learn to adapt to manage untenable situations, very young, even before we have memories. Then it makes sense why it takes such effort to unlearn these adaptations.

Therefore, rather than a weakness, they also are signs of strength. They are survival mechanisms that many of us have to unlearn.

Re-positioning anxiety in this way, can apply a different lens to the stigmatization of this (not solely mental but) physiological condition.