My Next Step After Trauma

I am seeing and appreciating how many things went right in my childhood despite the things that went wrong.

I saw my parents after spending a year and a half apart. I had done a lot of emotional work and therapy in that year and a half, focusing on processing many childhood traumas. Seeing my parents again after all that internal work was in some ways like seeing my parents as my fifteen-year-old self again. I acutely felt my father’s emotional unavailability and stoniness. I felt the anxiety simmering in my mother. I lost touch with these impressions of them over the years when I went off to college and started my professional life, but they were still there. They were buried under all the tensions that accumulated over the years in my relationship with them.

The emotional unavailability I sensed from my father made me quite sad and it clarified for me why I had so many difficult moments growing up. I was not mad at him though. I had worked through many difficult memories with a caring and skilled therapist. Those moments are now small afterthoughts that I did not need to talk about anymore. I was not a helpless child anymore; I am an adult who confronted her past trauma and has overcome them. I felt much more like a capable and self-sufficient person.

My visit with my parents was on-the-whole more pleasant than I expected. I noticed how much effort my parents made in taking care of me while I was with them. I was more connected than ever before with the sense of love and affection they had for me and I had for them. I knew intellectually that my parents loved me, but I was too emotionally numb before to feel it very much. It was because I worked through much of the PTSD and was back in touch with my emotions that I could feel the love. I noticed it in small things like how my father would go out every morning and buy me a Vietnamese coffee. I noticed it in how my mother gave me 200 masks to take home with me, and a bunch of my favorite snacks like raisins and dark chocolate.

I thought of small things missing in my parents’ lives and began to see how I could step up and take care of them. I noticed how my mother enjoyed cheddar but didn’t know how to incorporate it into her cooking so I baked broccoli and potato wedges with cheddar for her. I tried to convince my father to stop running from one place to another and instead be physically present for family time. I created these warm moments with Christmas presents, wine during dinner on Christmas, and champagne on New Year’s Eve. These were small things my parents would never think of doing for themselves, yet these gestures were very important and meaningful for me. They signaled a fuller life of enjoyment rather than a life of having just the bare necessities, which many refugees like my parents are used to.

“Speaking to our inner child, we can say, ‘Come with me, dear one. We have grown up. We are no longer vulnerable. We no longer need to be afraid. We can take her hand and invite her to come into the present moment and witness all the wonders of life that are available here and now.’”— Thich Nhat Hanh, Fear: Essential Wisdom to Get Through the Storm

When I saw my father this time, I felt he was an emotional wall. I found it quite difficult to communicate with him. In general, the only times we have conversations that last more than a couple of minutes is when we talk about family or money. He is simply not a good listener, which has limited the depth of my relationship with him. I rarely get the chance to say everything I want before he ends the conversation and walks away. My father looks down on talk about emotions and mental health. He is emotionally numb due to his own PTSD, not aware that the harsh, condescending tones and phrases he casually uses are hurtful to those around him. He doesn’t understand the impact of his words on others. He tries to hide his emotional hurt. His lack of listening skills and empathy has caused many unpleasant moments with those around him, including me, because he doesn’t understand others’ concerns and needs.

One particular example of the consequences of my father’s emotional unavailability has stuck with me through the years. It illustrates how my father’s lack of understanding of his family’s needs exacerbated my mother’s anxiety and led to dysfunction and public embarrassment. It is an example of arguments between my parents that are the root of my PTSD. This incident took place when I was fourteen years old. My parents had brought my brother and me with them to LA Fitness, where my mother wanted to sign up for a gym membership. My parents were discussing the matter with a sales associate, but it devolved into an argument between the two of them. They ended up getting up and departing in the middle of the signup process, leaving the sales associate very confused and their application half-finished. Their arguing continued in the parking lot and into the car.

I remember thinking at the time that my parents seemed to be taking a long time to make a decision and that this wasn’t normal. I also remember thinking this seemed very similar to the ballroom dancing incident when my mother wanted to expand her social life and my father was scared of my mother having so much freedom. Their communication was terrible, with my father not understanding my mother’s concerns and not respecting her needs. They were barely able to maintain a calm façade in front of the sales associate. I felt embarrassed for all of us and thought we were being impolite abandoning the sales associate in the middle of a conversation. This pattern of leaving things in a confusing mess, with bystanders left confused and scandalized, is a regularly-occurring result of my parents’ dysfunction.

I recounted my parents’ difficult behaviors towards me in my therapy sessions. My therapist tried to help me see past my parents’ seemingly negative behaviors to the positive intentions that were driving the behaviors. My therapist reminded me my parents aren’t trying to sabotage my plans; they just want what’s best for me and they were trying their hardest with what they knew about food, health, and education. They weren’t trying to hurt me; they were trying to give me a better life with opportunities they didn’t have. They weren’t trying to be controlling or take away my social life; they were worried that I could get hurt. They didn’t understand my emotional needs because they didn’t understand those things in general.

The next step for me after processing my PTS is acceptance and learning to cope with the anxiety that it leaves behind. After spending a significant amount of time working through traumatic moments, I realize my anxiety will likely always be there to some degree. It is something I have to consistently manage. Being more aware of it and having the tools to self-soothe it make my life easier. Whereas before, I would be triggered so quickly that I wouldn’t even notice and realize why I was overcome with anxiousness. I found ways to channel my anxiety through my yoga practice, exercise like running, taking walks in nature, and talk therapy. I have fewer moments when I feel like I have to rush or run; I have more moments when I feel safe and can slow down. I have more moments to address my needs.

Knowing I have my parents to support me makes me feel more confident in myself as I navigate the world. Even though I still find most of my time with them stressful, I prefer to be able to speak to them and see them regularly. I no longer feel the need to avoid them for months as I did previously. I am very grateful that I had time to work through my differences with them and get to a better place while they are still around and able-bodied. I am proud of the progress we’ve made in our relationship so far. I can cherish and appreciate the rest of the time I will have to take care of them and spend time with them.

I realize how many things did go right in my life despite the things that went wrong. That’s a life-changing and life-saving perspective. It transforms my personal narrative from “I am damaged, there’s something wrong with me” to “Many things went right in my life. Some parts of my life were more difficult than they should have been, but I’ve mostly healed from those difficult times now.” It helps me remember there are many positive parts of my life that I should embrace because they are precious and not to be taken for granted. It reminds me to concentrate on the happy memories. With this narrative in mind, I feel empowered to make choices that lead to a more warm and fulfilling life of love instead of ones that lead to isolation and emptiness. I feel I am reaching inside and saving my own life.

“We often have to reform our ideas of “once without power, always without power.” After all our losses and suffering we find that if we will reach we will be rewarded by grasping the child that is most precious to us. This is how a woman feels, at long last, like she has grasped her life again. She has palms “to see with” and to fashion life with once more. All through she has been helped by intra-psychic forces, and she has matured greatly. She is truly within herself now.” — Clarissa Pinkola Estés, Women Who Run With the Wolves