Traumatic experiences like sexual abuse leave us with more than flashbacks and symptoms like depression and anxiety. They impact our self-concept and how we make sense of our place in the world. Many of us wonder: What kind of person am I for this to have happened to me? What does life have in store for me if this happened in my past?
Too often we attempt to make sense of sexual abuse by blaming ourselves — because we took the wrong way home, because we drank too much, because we trusted someone we had every right to trust, because we are from the “wrong” kind of family, as if we are forever tainted because of our familial bonds. We tell ourselves that it should not bother us so much, or we should be over it by now. Granted, self-blame gives some sense of control, which can feel meaningful. But it is not true, and it does not heal.
More often, self-blame leads to obsessively recalling what happened or imagining “what if” scenarios in which life played out differently, or alternatively, running from the past as if acknowledging it would destroy the possibility of ever having a good life. Such replays, reimagining, and escape trajectories do not lead to truly letting go and moving on. Rather, they increase the likelihood of shame, rage, low self-worth, bitterness, dissociation, if not doubting one’s sanity. Even when we feel we have completely overcome a traumatic experience, major life changes can lead us to re-examine our lives, especially during times of loss, requiring us to make meaning of life’s traumas once again. We pass more smoothly through these transitions when we no longer feel the need to also defend against remembrances of past traumas.
Part of growth is remembering the past differently, which changes how we see ourselves and the possibilities we imagine available to us in the future. As we work through trauma, we rethink our ideas about the kinds of careers and lifestyles we deserve and the people capable of loving us for who we are. As the traumatic effects lessen, more energy is available for taking initiative, creating the life you want, even trusting love again, if this has been difficult for you. But the process is not easy, and it takes time. Having a sense of what makes recovery worth the effort is like a tall mast on a boat, a place to hook your sails and navigate in your chosen direction. This article discusses how the process of recovery can get stormy because of our natural neurobiological reactions to trauma and the stigma we often endure as women with histories of sexual abuse. Then we’ll look at how knowing your reasons for committing to recovery is a powerful way to avoid getting blown off course.
Neurobiology of Trauma
Our capacity to resolve sexual trauma is challenged by natural, neurobiological reactions to traumatic experiences such as flashbacks. When we lack skills and support for resolving traumatic reminders, we can feel as if we lose ourselves when flooded by remembrances of the abuse. One of the most common symptoms of sexual trauma is reliving the emotions experienced during sexual abuse. Depending on the circumstances and the role of the perpetrator in your life (e.g., a caregiver, someone close to you, an acquaintance, a stranger), you may have felt fear, shame, rage, helplessness, and/or betrayal. You may have been sexually aroused, which can be very confusing and wrongly contribute to self-blame. You may have dissociated, feeling nothing at all. When these trauma-related emotions and sensations reemerge in the present, they are typically disruptive, if not overwhelming. Making sense of them within the framework of everyday, non-traumatizing experiences can feel virtually impossible. As a part of yourself feels threatened while another part of you attempts to get on with life, an inner sense of fragmentation can arise that can cause you to feel unsure about who you are and what matters to you.
Whether you experienced high emotional and physical activation during the abuse, or were completely shut down, or both at different times, such states are not conducive to creating an integrated narrative like those we naturally compose in response to everyday experiences that are foundational for creating a meaningful life. Instead, you may feel confused about the order in which events occurred or have difficulty remembering exactly what transpired. This uncertainty interferes with creating a narrative that makes sense of the trauma in ways that support its resolution. It is also a consequence of how trauma alters the process of remembering.
When our bodies mobilize in response to a perceived threat, some memories of what happened may fail to consolidate into retrievable, long-term memories. When we encounter stimuli our brains associate with the original trauma, these unconsolidated and unconscious body and emotion memories are triggered, causing us to feel as if sexual abuse is happening all over again. We consciously know the abuse is in the past, but our unconscious does not.
The term unconscious is sometimes contested as an inaccurate description of the organization and functioning of the brain — a relic of early twentieth century thought. Nonetheless, it is a useful term and accurate enough for referring to experiences outside conscious awareness. Carl G. Jung, a psychiatrist from that era provided a description of the unconscious that is useful for our purposes: “everything of which I know, but of which I am not at the moment thinking; everything which I was once conscious but have now forgotten … everything perceived by my senses, but not noted by my conscious mind.”1 For the purpose of self-repair following sexual abuse, I think of the unconscious as the part of inner life expressed through body sensations, emotions, images, fantasies, dreams, flashbacks, intuition, synchronicity, and inspiration.2
A great deal of recovery from any trauma involves creating a relationship with the unconscious, learning to listen and attend to its distinct ways of communicating. This is often referred to as a “bottom up” approach to the treatment of trauma. It is contrasted with a “top down” approach that deals primarily with cognitions, such as the treatment modality cognitive behavioral theory, which is also helpful for the treatment of trauma-related symptoms, including thought distortions and low self-worth stemming from beliefs derived from the abuse. Taking a two-prong path to recovery is the best course for most. Bottom-up processing addresses unconscious material like memory fragments associated with the body and emotions along with imaginal aspects of mind, while top down processing works with cognitions, attainment of goals, and narrative reconstruction.
Many unconscious, trauma-related memories fail to integrate with our consciously constructed narrative because regions of the brain necessary for consolidating memories do not functioning in the same way during trauma. While a traumatizing experience is occurring, attention narrows to focus on the threat, and blood flow is directed to parts of the body necessary for survival, for instance, large muscle groups that might help with defense or escape. At the same time, functions of the brain that might interfere with responding rapidly to threat are attenuated, including two regions that contribute to self-awareness: the hippocampus, which is responsible for consolidating memories, including body and emotion memories; and regions of the prefrontal cortex, which contribute a sense of an observing “I” of memories and experiences. The prefrontal cortex also makes possible goal-directed behaviors and adapting plans and actions to culturally constructed notions of time.3 Through the prefrontal cortex, we avoid the timelessness of the unconscious in which fragmented, trauma-related body and emotion memories reside.
The hippocampus in conjunction with the prefrontal cortex contribute to a sense of self as either someone something did happened to, which makes possible projecting a sense of self into the past, or as someone something can happen to, thus projecting a sense of self into an imagined future. Together, they create a sense of self as located in a particular context, which is necessary for perceiving a traumatic experience as not part of the present moment, constructing a narrative that meaningful incorporates traumatic experiences, as well as planning and accomplishing goals without fear of retraumatization.
When the functions of the hippocampus and prefrontal cortex are diminished by the need to mobilize for defense, memories of what happened during the abuse can fail to gain a sense of being situated in a particular context as well as a sense of happening to oneself at a specific point in one’s life. They remain part of the unconscious sense of life as one timeless moment. When trauma-related stimuli then trigger unconscious body and emotion memories that were never consolidated by the hippocampus into retrievable long-term memories, these memories can feel as if they are coming out of nowhere and as if the trauma is happening all over again. We can also experience these memories as if they happened to, or belong to, someone else, and thus avoid accepting our own experiences of sexual abuse. This happens, for example, when there is complete disavowal of one’s younger self as if the person one once was is unrelated to one’s present self. Furthermore, when these unconscious memories are triggered, they can feel so overwhelming that they lead to attempts to control the body and emotions through abusing substances, eating disorders, self-harm, and suicide attempts. Some dissociate all sensory awareness, which in extreme circumstances can lead to depersonalization, feeling like your body is not your own, as if it is another object in your environment.
The body naturally reacts to any stimuli as a threat if in the past that stimuli was associated with danger, harm, or feeling overwhelmed. Hence, one of the primary goals of trauma-focused treatment is to reduce the likelihood that when the brain and body encounter stimuli associated with a past threat, but in nonthreatening situations, it doesn’t mobilize for defense. This may sound straightforward, but when there is unresolved trauma, we organize for defense unconsciously and automatically without realizing it. You know this has happened when innocuous incidences are responded to with strong emotions. You may even register that you are overacting; nevertheless, the intensity of your emotions makes the threat feel real. (Hence the need for a bottom-up approach to self-repair.)
To make matters worse, the more often we react defensively to particular stimuli, the more likely we will react similarly in the future. Over time, our responses become conditioned and automatic. What originally started as a response to being triggered, over time begins to feel and look like aspects of our personality.
For instance, imagine feeling anxious about an upcoming job interview, which is a common response to the interview process. Nevertheless, following traumatic experiences, your own emotions become triggering. This is especially true of anxiety.
Imagine your anxiety escalates to the point that it feels impossible to follow through on your goal of searching for a new job. Yet anxiety rarely, if ever, shows up on its own; it brings beliefs, body sensations, and perceptions with it. As you try to make sense of what you are feeling, you might interpret your anxiety as evidence you do not deserve a better job or that you are not ready for change, which might make your anxiety meaningful, however, it is likely an inaccurate assessment of yourself and your circumstances.
Or imagine seeing a man in a jacket the same color that your abuser wore or someone who has the same facial hair. Maybe you do not consciously register the similarity, or maybe you do. Nevertheless, as you start to feel fearful and agitated you decide you must leave where you are to calm down. After too many such incidences, you may no longer feel safe going to a particular place or even leaving your home. A primary goal of the “bottom up” form of trauma treatment is to reduce such moments of overwhelm and thus expand the contexts and opportunities that feel safe to inhabit and explore.
When frequently triggered by traumatic reminders, most of us start to judge ourselves as somehow failing at life rather than suffering from traumatic stress. At times, we may seem nonsensical to ourselves (and others) and start to feel ambivalent toward goals and relationships. On the one hand, we think we want to do something, like a new job or experience intimacy with our partner, yet on the other hand, we have feelings, images, or body sensations that cause us to suddenly change our minds. It is a bit like the goal-seeking, conscious part of the brain is constantly fighting with the unconscious, emotional part. We simply do not make much sense to ourselves. As a result, life can sometimes seem futile and not worth the effort. However, I do not believe we truly become our traumatic reactions, even if they have been conditioned through years of repetition. All of us can recover a calmer, nontraumatized version of ourselves while also retaining the ability to defend ourselves.
Forgetting, Dissociation, and Traumatic Memories
In the West we tend to berate ourselves for not getting over something that happened long ago or lasted briefly relative to other experiences. Yet as noted, from the perspective of the unconscious, there is no past, just one timeless moment. Recovery from trauma bolsters the capacity to dwell in this timeless moment without avoiding or obsessing over internal or external stimuli — including our own beliefs about when we should get over sexual abuse.
Since a brain that can recall memories of previous threats increases the likelihood of survival, it makes sense the unconscious would repeatedly be triggered by stimuli reminiscent of the trauma (e.g., body sensations, emotions, perceptions) if that might increase awareness of potential threats, especially if others observed the associated trauma symptoms such as dissociation, depression, or anxiety for what they were and responded with needed support.
Yet if the cultures and communities we belong to ignore the signs of trauma, or don’t know how to identify them, we too will tend to avoid remembering what happened and avoid addressing our trauma histories and their impact on us. Many of us become quite good at not consciously remembering sexual abuse. This is one of the ways dissociation plays a role in defending against traumatic memories. Especially when the perpetrator was a caregiver, there is increased likelihood of dissociation of the abuse, likely because remembering interpersonal trauma would be a greater threat to survival than forgetting.4 If you must depend on your caregiver to take care of your needs, it helps to be able to forget they are also your tormentor. There have also been cases of women in combat who endured sexual abuse and experienced complete amnesia during their deployment, only to remember once they returned to civilian life and relative safety.5
We can also impact what we remember by our desire to forget. Many of us suppress memories that are painful when we recall them, especially when they bring up emotions like shame, fear, betrayal, rage, or humiliation. Our efforts to suppress unwanted memories can impair our ability to recall the details of what happened.6 Nevertheless, we can continue to experience unconscious fragments of memories, whether intrusive images, body sensations, or emotions.
The process of self-repair, or recovery, doesn’t require consciously recalling all of what happened. For many of us, the memories of sexual abuse are so profoundly threatening to our sense of self, so annihilating, they are best forgotten. Then the focus of recovery is how unconscious remembering occurs — such as automatic beliefs that contribute to depression, feelings of betrayal that precede self-injurious behavior, or a tendency to rage when feeling threatened. Rather than trying to consciously recall the trauma, the objective becomes developing healthy coping skills and mindfully being with emotions and body states without obsessiveness, or alternatively, avoidance.
Societal Attitudes Toward Women with Histories of Sexual Abuse
The meanings we attribute to any significant life event are shaped by the beliefs and attitudes of our families, friends, communities, and society, which includes how we imagine what their beliefs and attitudes might be. Especially if you remain silent about your history of sexual abuse, you likely have imagined what others would think of you if they knew your history of sexual abuse. You may worry they would feel differently about you if they knew what happened, which can aggravate feelings of shame. You may feel resentful that they failed to witness your need for support. Thus, our imaginings can contribute to feeling alienated even when we keep our histories of sexual abuse secret.
Human beings are born underdeveloped and require over two decades to reach full maturity. This protracted development allows ample time to learn and absorb social norms, both those explicitly expressed and those implicitly relayed through others’ habits, attitudes, emotions, and body language. The imagination fosters this integration into our social worlds. We believe many things without testing their truth value because of our capacity to reach conclusions with the help of our imaginations. When it comes to a developing mind, life is a bit like a puzzle in which we often create the missing pieces through our imaginings rather than through real-world testing. We also generalize from specific incidences, especially when doing so may increase safety and belonging.
I suspect very few women make it to adulthood without awareness of the stigma, scapegoating, and general misunderstanding of women with histories of sexual abuse (or perhaps like me, you were warned of consequences if you ever told). When we have witnessed the scapegoating of others, we are more likely to imagine the same fate for ourselves and thus hide parts of ourselves we anticipate will be similarly rejected. In many relationships and communities, reaching such conclusions are self-protective even as they contribute to shame and alienation.
Throughout the history of civilization, victims of sexual abuse have been blamed, abandoned, ostracized, “canceled,” bullied, expected to marry their perpetrators, forced into sex work, gang raped, and even stoned to death. These reactions to sexual abuse have been so pervasive that the definition of sexual abuse (one that includes sexual harassment, sexual coercion, sexual assault, molestation, incest, and rape) is incomplete when it does not include the fear and shame caused by society’s reactions to those who have been sexually abused.
Those of us with histories of sexual abuse have been cast as too seductive, too naive, out too late, or too solitary in our excursions into public and private spaces. We have been judged as suffering from impoverished character and poor judgment. We have also been pitied and typecast as victims forever scarred by an unimaginable horror. We have intuited, if not known, what journalist Parul Sehgal observed: “Those who have faced sexual violence are so commonly sentimentalized or stigmatized, cast as uniquely heroic or uniquely broken. Everything can be projected upon them, it seems — everything but the powers and vulnerabilities of ordinary personhood.”7 Despite the important gains of the #MeToo Movement and similar efforts that have made it safer for women to share their histories of abuse and challenge their abusers, stigma and scapegoating still haunts women with histories of sexual abuse.
Many of us feel isolated in our trauma despite that, according to a 2014 World Health Organization Report, and data from one hundred thirty-three countries representing eighty-eight percent of the world’s population, nearly one in five women were sexually abused in early life.8 Yet only a third are thought to have told anyone, not even a friend. In our silence we blame ourselves for the abuse, just as others sometimes do. Many of us feel we no longer have the same opportunities we once had, or the same opportunities as others, whether careers, partners, family and friends, spiritual and creative expression, housing, healthcare, or education. We may be highly successful in certain aspects of our lives, yet nevertheless feel we must hide aspects of ourselves and memories we associate with the abuse. We often feel like imposters, if not less than human, which exacerbates the inner fragmentation caused by sexual trauma.
By our nature, humans are social beings. Not only do we need the capacity to narrate the events of our lives to make them meaningful, but we also need others to hear our stories. I like to quote psychologist Jerome Bruner on this point, who wrote, “Don’t we, too, have to tell the event in order to find out whether, after all, ‘this is the kind of person I really mean to be’?”9 We all need and deserve opportunities to tell what happened without the threat of stigma, if not scapegoating, that historically has been a response to histories of sexual abuse. Nevertheless, finding safe people and communities where we can openly express the impact of sexual abuse can be difficult.
Regardless if you have the support and community you deserve, start now by listening to how you communicate with yourself. Kindly dismiss any beliefs you have absorbed from your society, or have imagined they might hold, that suggest you are irrevocably damaged, or somehow tainted, by sexual abuse or that you cannot have an extraordinary life because someone once sexually violated you. I know this is not easy to do, especially when our neurobiology and societies have us questioning our sanity and worth. Yet such beliefs keep you stuck in the past, longing for who you were before the abuse or who you might have been had had the abuse never happened, and thus unable to imagine all the wonderful opportunities that are still possible.
Both our neurobiological reactions to sexual trauma and societal attitudes toward sexual abuse survivors are headwinds challenging efforts to sail away from a troubled past and into a meaningful future. Although we cannot control our unconscious, neurobiological reactions to trauma, we can foster integration and reduce their effects. You can download my free Window of Tolerance guide to begin this “bottom up” process, and I always recommend finding trauma-informed professionals to support your recovery.
Similarly, we cannot control societal reactions to sexual abuse, however, as sociologist Ruha Benjamin observed, “our mental structures shape and are shaped by social structures, which means a change in one has the potential to impact the other.” As we change and alter the course of our lives, we also have an opportunity to change the status quo. You can initiate this process by discovering your why(s) for recovery, and thus shifting your focus toward who you are becoming rather than what has happened in your past.
The Why of Recovery
For each of us, the why of recovery is different. Maybe you want to recover because you have kids, and you want to be more present to them and their needs. Maybe you are having trouble keeping a job, and you need to engage in self-repair so you can support yourself and/or your family. Maybe you are sick of being obsessed with someone who hurt you. Maybe you feel isolated. Maybe you feel creatively blocked. Maybe you are just tired of feeling scared or depressed. Maybe you want to enjoy sex. Whatever the reason, it helps to figure out why you want to recover from sexual abuse, and then prioritize this why as having the most meaning for you, since it is about who you are now and who you want to become in your future.
You might have several reasons why you want to engage in recovery work. Some of these reasons may even seem to contradict each other, which is perfectly fine. What is important is that you start thinking about your why — not the why you feel you should have or the one someone else wants you to have. Your why.
When I started the process of recovery, my why was ending flashbacks of sexual abuse. Yet my why has changed many times since then. My why has been about intimacy in my marriage, productivity in my work, regaining my spirituality, and other reasons. Having a specific why has helped motivate me to continually engage in recovery work, since I am focusing on who I want to become rather than the painful memories of what happened. Having a why does not mean suddenly traumatic stress and triggered memories disappear. Rather, having a why is a way to move away from these natural reactions and start creating a more hopeful view of your life. Even small goals when reached can counteract a defeatist mindset. This is how resiliency is built: one self-affirming belief or action at a time.
When I have not been good at having a why, I have been more susceptible to feeling stuck in the past and old ways of coping. In fact, many formal definitions of recovery focus on having the desire to make goals and fulfill them, as well as consistently engaging in activities that make life feel purposeful. Being dedicated to your why also requires you to take good care of yourself if you are going to succeed. By having goals and taking steps toward them, you start making a new kind of meaning of sexual abuse — one that doesn’t revolve around what happened, how your body naturally responds to trauma, or what other people think. Instead, the focus becomes how you are overcoming the hurt in your past and creating a life that is meaningful for you.
Mindfulness Versus Conscious Awareness
Even when we really want to accomplish something, we nevertheless can be derailed by traumatic reminders of sexual abuse. As mentioned earlier, the best approach to recovery is two-prong, taking both bottom-up and top-down approaches to resolving trauma. Regarding unconscious traumatic reminders, we begin to challenge these reactions by mindfully becoming aware of what is occurring and then changing where we direct our attention (see my Window of Tolerance Guide for methods). Mindfulness can initiate a new experience that then becomes the basis for change. Some suggest you must spend at least thirty seconds in a new experience with mindful awareness just to form a corresponding new neuronal connection with the potential to become the foundation for lasting changes in attention, emotions, and behaviors.10
Understanding how to create states of mindfulness is best achieved by contrasting it with ordinary consciousness that occurs when engaged in usual habits and routines. Typically, ordinary consciousness is oriented toward the external world; attention is directed toward accomplishing tasks and engaging in daily activities. In contrast, mindfulness is inwardly focused and concerned with present moment experience. It is less oriented toward environment and relationships and is more curious about inner states and responses to external stimuli. When engaging in daily activities, we typically want awareness to be ordinary consciousness. However, when attempting to change the focus of unconscious attention, mindfulness is required.
It may help to imagine you have two sets of goals: unconscious and conscious goals. Unconscious goals are related to how you feel and react to both external (e.g., sound, smell, taste, touch, perception) and internal (e.g., thought, emotion, body sensation) stimuli. One goal for the unconscious would include altering how you react to trauma-related stimuli, which, unlike conscious goals, requires mindful awareness of how you organize experience, especially in response to being triggered.
In contrast, conscious goals are the result of identifying what you want to accomplish or change, thinking through the conditions needed to meet desired outcomes, and then identifying the necessary steps to reach them. Conscious goals include your why(s) for recovery. They also involve the more general commitment to identifying resources to support your recovery, such as this article and other media, a trauma-trained psychotherapist, and other supportive people and communities that keep the process of recovery on track and lead to the greatest likelihood of success.
We increase our likelihood for success when conscious and unconscious goals complement one another. Problems typically emerge when conscious goals, like your why(s), do not immediately lead to feeling good, which we can think of as an optimal state we unconsciously, if not naturally, pursue. Often, long-term goals like getting a degree, finishing a complex work project, raising a healthy child, or recovery from sexual abuse do not always feel good. Along the way there are inevitable dips, delays, and days when we want to give up. According to the unconscious, if something feels good then it is good, and when something feels bad, it’s bad. Of course, that is not necessarily true. Eating a tub of ice cream may feel good, but it is not good for you. However, when trying to get the unconscious on board with your goals, it helps to think of how you want to feel once you reach your goals, thus priming yourself with the feel-good emotions you associate with achievement of your goals. Taking time to regularly imagine how it will feel to reach a goal increases the likelihood of success and has the added benefit of fostering neuronal growth in the direction of the person you want to become.
Another challenge arises due to communication, since conscious attention and unconscious drives lack the same “language.” Conscious processing is revealed through plans, ideas, analytical thinking used to weigh pros and cons, and discernment of the actions necessary to attain goals. Unconscious processing relies more on emotions, images, and body sensations that relay needs, desires, and fears. When we communicate conscious goals to the unconscious in its language, we increase the likelihood of reaching desired outcomes. To this end, images really help.
I am a fan of vision boards: collages of magazine or online images used to support goals and intentions. Images are the language of the unconscious. Images support conscious-made goals and intentions when they bring forth positive emotions. When using images to motivate goals, you do not have to create a collage of every goal and intention. One or two images for each of your whys or an important goal is often enough. That said, the process is up to you. Over the years, I have made elaborate vision boards.
For instance, say your why for recovery (and conscious goal) is more intimacy in a romantic relationship. Finding an image of a couple expressing the tenderness and closeness you desire can encourage the emotions you want in your relationship. Maybe you want to be more emotionally present with your children and an image of a mother attentively and joyful interacting with her child can prompt you to seek moments you want to create. Perhaps you want to stop ruminating about the person who hurt you, and an image of a forest reminds you of the peace you seek. Posting images where you will see them (if this feels safe and right for you) becomes an opportunity to shift attention and emotions. Along with all the other stimuli you receive from your environment, you can start priming emotions that relate to your why(s). Doing so does not replace the difficult work of recovery, but it does help align your conscious and unconscious toward the same goal. Granted, your unconscious may negatively react to images in its old, protective, fear-based ways, but you will also have an opportunity to witness how you defend against what you believe you want, and you can work to relax those defenses or perhaps tweak your goal (or images) in ways that improve alignment.
Recovery from sexual abuse is not easy, but you are worth the effort. Each day is an opportunity to begin again and create a life centered on the meanings you chose to give it. Trust yourself and believe change is possible.
Questions for your reflection:
• What is your “why” for recovering from sexual abuse? You may have one reason or twenty. Try to write them all down. If you have more than one, try to arrange them according to importance.
• Ask yourself, “If I were to fully recover from sexual abuse, what would be different about my life?” How would you feel differently? How would you behave differently? Would you have different thoughts? What kind? Would you feel differently in your body? What would you feel? Would you experience different emotions? What would they be? Would you no longer misuse or abuse substances? What would replace them? Would your relationships be different? How? Would sex be different? How? Knowing the answers to such questions — including knowing which of these questions feel most important to you — can be useful for thinking about how you want to focus your recovery.
Suggestions for creating a vision board:
Select images that resonate with your why(s) and how you want to feel when you reach your goal(s) for recovery. Use either pictures from magazines you glue to a larger paper (e.g., a brown paper bag, poster board, or printer paper) or images from the web you arrange in a document such as Word, Google Docs, or Apple Pages. If you are feeling artistic, draw or paint them. Spend time mindfully observing your internal responses to your images, including any emotions, body sensations, memories, or fantasies that emerge. Does anything unexpected come up for you? Write down your reactions. Keep your images someplace where you will see them often. Get in the habit of using your selected images to increase positive emotions you associate with recovery.
References
1 Quoted in Kikan Massara, The 12 Steps: Symbols, Myths, and Archetypes of Recovery (Cologne, Germany: Taschen, 2023), 292.
2 Massara, 292.
3 Marie Carlén, “What Constitutes the Prefrontal Cortex?,” Science 358, no. 6362 (2017): 478 – 482.
4 Linda M. Williams, “Recovered Memories of Abuse in Women with Documented Child Sexual Victimization Histories,” Journal of Traumatic Stress 8 , no. 4 (1995): 649-673.
5 Donna Cozort, Out of the Whirlwind: PTSD and the Archetype of Job, the Journey of a Traumatized Combat Nurse to Meet the Divine Within, ed. Lenore Thomson (Scotts Valley, CA: BookSurge Publishing, 2010).
6 Anderson, Michael C., Keven N. Ochsner, Brice Kuhl, Jeffrey Cooper, Elaine Robertson, Susan W. Gabrieli, Gary H. Glover, and John D. E. Barieli, “Neural Systems Underlying the Suppression of Unwanted Memories,” Science 303, no. 5655 (2004): 232-5.
7 Parul Sehgal, “The Forced Heroism of the ‘Survivor’,” New York Times Magazine, May 8, 2016, MM13.
8 World Health Organization, United Nations Office on Drugs and Crime, and United Nations Development Programme, Global Status Report on Violence Prevention 2014 (Luxembourg: World Health Organization, 2014), 14.
9 Jerome Bruner, Making Stories: Law, Literature, Life (New York: Farrar, Straus and Giroux, 2002), 73.
10 Sensorimotor Psychotherapy Institute, Training for the Treatment of Trauma, Berkeley, CA, 2011.
