This is the first in a monthly book review series.
“Getting rid of suffering means you’re not adding to the pain.” Stephanie Foo
What do you do once you realize that you have complex PTSD? Stephanie Foo chronicles what it is like and how she recovers in her book, What My Bones Know: A Memoir of Healing From Complex PTSD. Reading the book helped me understand my own healing journey. While my trauma differs from hers, I relate to some of the effects in her life.
I received a diagnosis of PTSD at the age of 22. I now realize that I have complex PTSD. The two are related but different. Regular PTSD stems from a single traumatic experience, while complex PTSD stems from repeated abuse. Dr. Judith Herman coined the term complex PTSD in 1988 to describe the effects of long-term trauma. The U.S. Department of Veterans Affairs lists the following symptoms of C-PTSD:
Behavioral difficulties
Emotional difficulties
Cognitive difficulties
Interpersonal difficulties
Somatization, or the “conversion of a mental state (such as depression or anxiety) into physical symptoms,” according to Merriam-Webster
Foo notes that the picture painted of someone with C-PTSD on the internet is of someone who is “broken. ” Beaten repeatedly by her parents and then abandoned by them in her teens, she proves that childhood trauma survivors have strength. And that is what I find helpful about her book. She paints a picture of a person who suffered much from the effects of trauma yet stays on the healing path.
Trauma affects the body
“Trauma changes the structure and chemical and hormonal responses of our brains.”
Foo discusses how trauma affects a survivor’s brain. She cites two examples that resonate with me. The first is that the part of the brain that processes bodily sensations is smaller in female sexual abuse survivors. There are times when I feel disconnected from what happens in my body. It doesn’t happen often now, but it does occur occasionally. Over two years ago, I experienced what I call the period from hell caused by uterine fibroids. I bled heavily and received four pints of blood. I let it go until I could hardly move. As a child, I survived sexual abuse in part by ignoring its effects on my body.
The second example she cites is people who were screamed at as children “might have an altered response to sound.” I have sensory processing issues. Repetitive noises such as a dripping faucet are not just irritating to me but can cause intense anxiety. However, since taking Celexa I have experienced fewer issues.
The effects of trauma on a survivor’s brain cause epigenome changes. As Foo says, “Trauma can turn on a gene that responds to the smell of cherry blossoms, for example. Or turn off a gene that regulates our emotions. It might turn on a gene for fear.” She cites a study on early childhood abuse and fibroids. I looked up the study conducted by researchers from the Boston University School of Medicine which followed more than 60,000 women for over 16 years. They found that women abused as children were more likely to develop fibroids as adults.
Some brain effects are positive
Not all changes to the brain are negative, as Foo discovered. The brain adapts to protect us, and while some of the changes “backfire,” as she notes, others can be advantageous. Empathy is the positive effect she notices about herself. As people have repeatedly told me, I am an empath. I tend to feel what others feel. The sexual abuse I endured at a young age helps me know how to comfort others.
“My struggles with C-PTSD made me more empathetic. They made me more attuned to what people needed and uniquely skilled in comforting them.”
Mindfulness as a recovery tool
I learned about the concept of the default mode network from this book. Psychology Today has a good explanation, describing it as a “system of connected brain areas that show increased activity when a person is not focused on what is happening around them.” A good example is driving on the freeway and getting off the exit you usually take to work instead of the one a half mile away. When we do this, we are operating on autopilot. Childhood trauma survivors tend to operate frequently in DMN, which leads to anxiety.
“The most efficient cure of an overactive DMN is mindfulness,” Foo proclaims. A study linked meditation with reduced DMN activity. That means that every time you meditate, you are helping reduce the impacts of trauma on your brain. Perhaps you struggle with meditation like I did at first or Foo did. Approaching meditation with the right attitude and expectations is key. We all have a monkey mind that swings wildly from thought to thought. It’s normal. During mindfulness meditation, our job is to notice our thoughts. Notice and let them go, as my therapist reminds me to do.
My takeaway
This is a great book that every childhood abuse survivor should read. However, I caution that if you are experiencing triggers frequently, wait to read the book after you have experienced more healing. I started reading it two years ago and put it down until earlier this month. It is my belief that we read certain books that help us in our journey at the right time, and we instinctively know.
Resources
What My Bones Know: A Memoir of Healing From Complex PTSD by Stephane Foo
The Benefits of Meditation for Childhood Trauma Survivors (The Possible Path article)
How Meditation & Tapping Help Me Recover From Child Sexual Abuse (The Possible Path article)
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Bless you, dear Gina. Thank you for sharing the tools you have and are using on your healing journey. Love you <3
The things you say are so inspirational you seem to be healing more and more with each of your precious writings