The Poverty of Dysregulation, Pt 1.

-Jonathan Hoffmann, LCSW-QS

I was sitting at my desk working on something unrelated when this title came to me. The words felt right as I heard them in my mind and while I didn’t yet have an understanding of what I would write, some part of me understood the assignment. I got, the gist, so to speak. This blog topic will likely span 3-4 separate posts as there is a fair amount of scaffolding to lay out to prop up my developing and mildly rickety thought process around this topic.

More people seem to be talking about (T)rauma and (t)rauma, and depending on who you talk to, they are likely to tell you there is a difference. Generally speaking, those in the trauma healing space view Big-T-Trauma as experiences like “shock trauma,” where there is a sudden, unexpected traumatic event that occurs, altering the nervous system to produce a variety of survival-related adaptations (symptoms). Conversely, Little-t-trauma is frequently referenced as “developmental trauma,” which can be chronic in nature and far more insidious in the ways that it impacts the person experiencing it. There is an interesting idea to explore here to create an understanding about the differences in effects of a shock trauma vs. developmental trauma. We can imagine that a person grows up with a “good enough” mother and father, experiences their fair share of hardship in life, arguably increasing their overall resilience in a variety of ways. This person will likely have a somewhat balanced sense of themselves and how they fit into the world. They have a sort of baseline that develops, a baseline of “I’m generally safe in this world.” Imagine now that this person experiences a tragic car accident where a friend dies next to the driver. This massively novel and dangerous event just occurred that drastically altered our internal maps instantaneously, without time for new cognitive understanding or acclimating to a new unconscious belief system. In a flash, our world is no longer safe. At a minimum, not as safe. Not like it was. And it’s real and true and we can’t go back. We always knew it was true that these things happen, but we never had to experience the terror ourselves. That terror changes us at some level emotionally, physically, spiritually, psychologically, and genetically. Our cells reorganize to find resilience in the face of a new and real threat to this Super-Organism. And in doing so, we trade a felt sense of safety for an increased sense of focus. A focus that energizes us to be on alert for threat. While uncomfortable, it’s a necessary and natural reaction that has likely led to the proliferation of our species. The ability for this organism to mobilize fear to influence future behavior due to traumatic early experiences is High Survival in my eyes, but maybe not the most Comfortable Survival. We are on a see-saw of sympathetic vigilance and parasympathetic down-shifting, depending on our environments and perceived safety.

So yeah, let’s get back to the differences we were discussing. The car accident might change my schema (inner map/what I believe about the world), but with proper support I can return to a baseline level of functioning again. Many people go onto experience Post-Traumatic Growth as a result of their overcoming their experience through mobilization of support. From a survival perspective, it’s the ultimate sign of your inclusion in the group and ability to receive support from members of your community.

In the case of (t) trauma, we could be looking at a few things so it’s important to have context. Small transgressions can be considered little-t-trauma, as they create a sense of suffering in the individual. The key here is that this harm looks different and may not be acknowledged quite as readily. This seeming greater difficulty in perceiving emotional harm vs. physical harm impacts our ability to provide adequate support in those moments of emotional transgression. What is interesting though, is that an emotional transgression, while painful, may lay the groundwork for more adaptive beliefs about the world, so long at that person receives adequate support in the wake of the emotional transgression. The person learns that conflict can happen but also that Resolution can happen. And resolution is an escape hatch that allows us to be free to be us, to have conflict. The repair creates a bond that could’ve never taken root without the rough edges from the initial break. The imperfection being a testament to the collaborative repair that can be produced by your heart and another’s.

In the case where it goes the other way and emotional transgressions are met with disinterest, ignorance, excuses, disrespect, or even dehumanization, growing people may develop beliefs about their ability to feel safe in the world when they are experiencing emotional hurt from others. We can imagine the same scenario as above where a small emotional transgression, such as a father yelling at his son, can go multiple ways in creating a durable narrative for this young person, depending on any resolution or repair that takes place. If repair is non-existent, or worse, the person is being actively demeaned, a very different narrative will form around protection, rather than the ability to repair.

A young person who experiences these sorts of things frequently may find themselves feeling alone, or isolated. The insidious part of the little t experience is that in many cases it’s a daily, weekly, monthly experience that can begin very early in someone’s development. Truly, these impacts can begin in utero. But the compounding impact of chronic emotional dismissal or neglect creates a “baseline” of shame, depression, and anxiety. These types of experiences are frequently what people report when they meet criteria for what is commonly called Chronic Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, or Complex Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. I’ve seen it both ways and I’m sure I’ve said them both. The important part here is that this person’s baseline is not one of safety and repair, but of isolation and defensiveness. The person who experiences shock trauma that had a “good enough” attachment and upbringing may have an easier time finding their way back to felt safety than someone who never had it to begin with. It seems that when your body has been tuned to the frequency necessary to keep you safe, it doesn’t resonate well at frequencies that might lead to slowing and calming. That would make sense. How safe would getting “too comfy” in such a dangerous place be? If we haven’t spent enough time embodying safety and equanimity, we may not have the capacity to experience it yet. That can develop, but not without some serious work . Which brings us to the next portion of this blog post. I imagine I will attempt to post part two within a week or so. If you’ve made it this far into my first blog post/rant/ego project, I appreciate you and I hope you let me know what you think of my writing. Thank you.

Jonathan Hoffmann