On working through trauma

 On working through trauma

Tis the season to work through trauma. Or should I say life experiences that may have not been quite as nice as one might like. The idea is, as far as I can make out, to bring out such experiences into the cold light of a reading lamp or candle. To look at the aforementioned experiences and how they make you feel. What they make you feel. How your nervous system responds to  those feelings. This process is supposed to be good for you and help process bad shit. Or slightly uncomfortable incidents as us emotionally illiterate like to put it.

And therein lies the rub. Emotional illiteracy. When I was young we didn’t have anything as namby pamby as emotions. How you felt about stuff was utterly irrelevant . So long as you were a good girl, didn’t fart in church and obeyed all the rules including -

 Keeping your elbows off the table, 

Saying ‘please’, ‘thank you’ and ‘please may I be excused?’

Adhering to a high level of hygiene

Not killing your siblings

Not killing your parents or torturing them in any way (torture ok for siblings)

Not killing yourself.

There were hundreds of other rules which are probably so ingrained that I don’t even recognise them. Like emotions. I don’t recognise those either.

So when asked ‘How are you?’ I give the standard reply ‘Fine’. Nothing else is required is it? We are British after all. Then a weird thing happened…

I wandered innocently onto a retreat. Nothing new there. I’ve done retreats. Yoga, breathing, perhaps the odd dip into a hot tub. Or a game of Ti Chi or Qi Gong or Mah Jong. For the non retreaters of you these are ancient oriental games of balance and chance. At this retreat there was something called Pods. I knew it was on the programme because I had read the programme. I was thinking of something along the lines of peas, beans or maybe camping. I had also entertained the idea that it might be something to do with podcasts, gatherings of Whales or walking (but that’s Plods, but typos were not beyond the realms of possibility). I was of course too embarrassed to ask.

Here’s what happened - The massed group of about 30 of us separated into Pods! The Pods were small groups of 5 or so people. So just like peas. My first assumption was correct! Ha! But instead of putting on green outfits, curling into small balls and cwtching up to each other in a line we were going to talk about feelings!!!!!! Shit. I was unequipped for this!

Did you know that young people, or at least young people on retreats, know how to talk about feelings? They were so incredible and honest and vulnerable and able to cry! I then admitted that no one ever asked me how I felt and actually wanted a real answer. Not just ‘fine’. I was a pod virgin. An emotional virgin. My instinct was to retreat. It was a retreat so surely that was acceptable. 

This sort of retreating is familiar to me. It’s simply a matter of hiding. In most situations the best place to hide is in the loo. Other good places are lifts, under-stair cupboards, kitchens, ends of gardens, sheds, behind trees and rabbit holes. 

As far as I recall I think I might have said something quite honest about being lonely. Ha! There! Being brought up in the sixties be damned! I expressed an emotion!