It’s been a while. Between waiting for my new laptop, public access training with Azula, The Wisdom of Trauma courses, the International Trauma Research and Recovery Network, writing project proposals, trying to get information from organizations and having houseguests, writing took a backseat.
Especially the public access training took its toll. For someone who suffers from hypervigilance and body armoring, being out and about is incredibly tiring. But this training is necessary in order for me to be able to (hopefully) one day be able to get treatment abroad.
Body armoring flare up – a sudden trigger
After the past few weeks of intense training and practice sessions, I was exhausted, but still balanced. I knew I’d gone past my own limitations, and needed to rest and recharge to keep it that way. And then…I got hugely triggered by a simple phone call.
From one moment to the next I was back in a total numb state, while my brain kept answering and inquiring, without spiraling. Thanks to Azula, and knowing exactly what had triggered me and why, I was able to shake the numbness fairly quickly, as opposed to in the past. Then it could take weeks or months before I could feel again.
But the down-side of this rapid return to my own body was experiencing the incredible increase in body armoring and the physical effects thereof. Muscles locked. Throat tight. Pain. Tension headache galore. To an extent I have never felt.
Body armoring – an automatic reaction
There’s nothing I can do to stop it. It just happens. 100% Uncontrollable. Two days later and I feel like I’ve been in a car accident, have sustained whiplash and a light concussion. As though I ran a marathon while lifting weights, and simultaneously tried to master neurobiology and meta-physics by candlelight.
It’s strange to try and explain to people how different ‘normal’ body armoring feels (constantly coiled, ready to spring into action at a moment’s notice, always tense, but limber enough to move at any moment) to this immediate and all encompassing locking up of my body due to something that transported my body to a very traumatic time in my life, but that isn’t an actual, present danger in the now. And even if it was, the biggest difference is I can now act in my own defense. I’m no longer trapped without a way out.
It doesn’t matter that my brain is perfectly aware of what, why and how. My body did its own risk assessment in a heartbeat, and went into overdrive. It’s not that this experience is particularly new. It’s just the first time I’m experiencing it without the numbing effect of dissociation. And it’s horrendous. I’d give almost anything for momentary relief.
Body armoring is nothing new
In hindsight I’ve had body armoring since I was a kid. I vividly remember in various sports or hobbies that the participants were told to “tighten those muscles,” followed by a “not you Julie, relax those muscles.” In most of my physical hobbies it was a blessing in disguise. Having such muscle control at an early age made me fairly good at ballet, (synchronized) swimming, horseback riding and gymnastics. Yoga, tai chi and meditation though, or anything where the relaxation of muscles followed naturally from the exercise, would worsen my symptoms – my body rebelled at anything that required it to surrender to a vulnerable state.
Except baths, I never found much that really ever helped loosen ‘knots’ without an automatic ‘emergency, relaxing is dangerous!’ reaction from my body.
Just Relax!
When people tell me to relax, I usually don’t bother trying to explain. It’s tiring to have to explain that yes, I have tried various relaxation techniques. Yes, I stuck with them. No, they did nothing to actually help me relax. Sometimes the EXACT opposite. No, it’s not a question of thinking and knowing my way out of it. Yes, I know it’s not permanent. I know the baseline will return.
My mind is not beset by irrational fear. My body just remembers – and reacts – and I have not yet found the way to convince it that it’s okay to feel safe. That I trust myself enough to spring into action when needed – that constantly being ready to spring is no longer necessary.
Yes, I stretch, I dance, I walk with the doggos and cuddle with them and the kitties. I rest and distract my body by exercising my mind through reading and listening to music. Yes, I hug people, and smile and laugh. I cry and get angry when I feel it. Flowers that bloom, birds that sing and butterflies that flutter around in my garden give me joy. I have plenty of social interactions, kind, nurturing and meaningful ones included.
Time does not heal all wounds
No matter what I do, it never completely takes the muscle armoring away. My body learned a lesson as a young child. I only found out what that lesson was a few years ago. I may have unlearned the cognitive lesson, I’m aware of what it’s meant, and the incredible impact it’s had. I’ve grieved for it, released the anger and and frustration at its injustice, but my body still isn’t convinced. It KNOWS trauma and wants no part of it.
No, the passage of time has not lessened the effect. 30 Years later and my body is right back where I was then.
For now I’ll take it as it is. And keep doing what I do to mitigate the effects, without resorting to destructive behaviors. I’ll keep being curious about what I’m experiencing, and try to listen to what my body needs to feel safe again, without shutting down. And keep researching this phenomenon and hopefully find something that will one day allow me to truly feel safe.
