Month: November 2022

Last week while rushing through the aisles of Target I discovered something poignant about myself. And it had nothing to do with the dollar aisle or home decor. Although I kind of wish it had; it would have been much more fun to write about.

Hurriedly walking through the main aisle, a woman was coming out of a smaller aisle pushing a cart, and we met. We didn’t run into one another by any means, but there was an abrupt moment where we both scared one another at the unexpected appearance of someone in our path.

I have an overactive startle response. This is one of the few things I’ve always been able to recognize about myself. So I, of course jumped a great deal more than she did. And I felt the sensation of being startled pulsate throughout my entire body. I immediately apologized. Not a polite, “excuse me.” But a deep, “I am so sorry.”

The woman stared at me for a brief moment, then continued pushing her cart.

Walking away from the exchange, I felt physically impacted. She —from what I could assume by her reaction— did not. Now, I don’t know how she felt. But based on the interaction, she appeared unaffected.

As I learn more and more about myself, I am seeing patterns arising in my interactions, in my autonomic responses, in my perceptions…..

The fact that this person had the exact same experience as me yet had an incredibly different response was enlightening to say the least. I realized that I receive so much of what is happening around me internally; where there are actually people walking around the world who are not internally affected by everything they encounter. This was nuts. I thought, there are people who go throughout their days that don’t have intrinsic bodily reactions to any and all stimuli?

Walking around in this state has led to exhaustion and an underlying experience of assault in even minor interactions. Possessing a hyper-vigilance towards danger and a over-whelming sense of responsibility for other people’s happiness, safety, and/or emotions creates an environment where someone might just have an overactive response to walking up on someone in Target.

It also very clearly brings to light a serious denial of self. Somehow, I have learned to believe that her right to be there in that moment was bigger than my own. She had a right to that space, and I felt gross for imposing on it. She, however, did not express the same belief.

As I ponder the larger implications of these aspects of myself, I can see them everywhere. Interactions with sounds and people feel intense. Because they are intense. Because they are impacting my nervous system. And therefore, I feel intruded upon and often powerless. And many times, exhausted. The implications of not feeling worthy of taking up space in the world, results in becoming invisible, mirroring people’s wants, minimizing my own, feeling unseen, and possibly frustration for feeling all of these things.

The biggest concern comes in the recognition that I have walked around like this for 40 years. What if a mere 10% of the population (likely greater) walks around receiving every interaction internally like I do? Would this contribute to the social conflict we are observing in society?

Are we walking around vulnerable to internal threat in seemingly non-threatening situations? When we experience slight and casual interactions on an internal level how could we possibly feel regulated or safe? The environments around us are constantly controlling our nervous systems.

From experience, that’s a rollercoaster. It only seems logical to me, if other people are experiencing what I am, and if they don’t possess a hiding, freezing, or disappearing response to threat rather a fight response to the same stimuli, this could result in external aggression. I personally prefer to turn my aggression inward.

I am not saying my goal is to walk through the world completely unaware or unaffected by the very real needs of others. But I am BIG interested in obtaining a stance where I feel safe in my own body and limit my input to a degree where things like Target become enjoyable and not exhausting.

Until now, I don’t think I really understood people lived the other way. And if anyone reading this experiences the world on a internal and exhausting level:

• Start watching for regulated people who aren’t constant receptors
• take note of the ease they navigate situations without interruptions in homeostasis
• realize there is another way to experience the world
• work like crazy to figure out how to get there
• know that you are not alone

As a former extrovert, in an extroverted career, I worked tirelessly to help people. I felt an obligation and a compulsion to meet the needs of those God placed in my path. Some events led to an abrupt exit from that career, which piggybacked on the abrupt end to life-long relationships. My world was flipped turned upside down.

The brokenness and destruction surrounding these events and losses led to an isolated journey and desperate desire for healing. Aside from the depression and grief I was inevitably experiencing, there was a foundational need to change more than just my career. My home was in shambles—a direct representation of my internal state.

With every invitation for coffee, lunch, a visit— due to my seemingly new freedom from the day job—I cringed. I cringed at the thought of social obligations. I felt as if this time alone was imperative, and I needed every second of it. I began to believe that I was allergic to people and that I was simply hiding from the world. But what was happening and is still happening is a transformation.

In these days where I am sitting alone, I am searching for something I have never been able to find. As I sit with God, prayerfully engaging in His word and spirit, reading and consuming all that I can to grow, I am healing. Slowly.

I am coming to realize that I am not allergic to people. I am allergic to the situations that trigger my shame and obligation. These silent and often dark moments have allowed me the opportunity to evaluate the destruction my constant desire to save people, help people, fill their needs emotional and physical, has had on my spirit and those I love the most.

This may sound extreme given a lack of knowledge or backstory. But in an honest look at myself, I realized that the shame, guilt, and unworthiness bestowed upon me as a small child has persisted and motivated my every thought and action. I NEEDED to help people. I NEEDED to feel like a good person. I NEEDED to do enough, care enough, to finally absolve myself of the shame that permeated my very existence.

And with the separation of constant service as a bandaid, I began to feel intense anxiety toward situations that I knew would trigger this guilt, obligation, and shame. Without a backdrop of trauma, one might not understand why merely turning down an invitation or juggling the fragile emotions of others feels impossible. Here’s why. When confronted with these feelings, I disappear. A magic trick I acquired at an early age to avoid attack and numb my own feelings in order to remain safe externally and internally.

This trick served me well as a youth. But as a wife and mother to three glorious children, it’s catastrophic. I am finally connecting my triggers with my coping mechanisms, and my coping mechanisms with the loss my children and husband experience as a result. They lose me. And not because I want to fail them. Because my brain perceives these situations as dangerous —because they were — and my current autonomical response is self-preservation.

In this season, I am grateful to be here. Sitting at the feet of Christ humbly asking for transformation. Focusing my energy and attention to freeing my spirit from bondage and toward repairing the relationships and tending to the needs of these sweet children who have already lost much. To breaking the cycles of hurt plaguing generations of my family. Giving them all of the love and attention they genuinely deserve just as a child.

I eagerly await the time when I can emerge, healed in spirit and home to serve God outside of these walls. When this happens, I will not be serving to fill a hole inside myself. I will be serving as a Christian filled to the brim with grace.

After spending so much of my time worrying myself with the demands of the world around me, I have finally found my place. I was Martha. Now I am blessed to have the chance to be Mary. It’s not easy to stop the internal obsession of busy, seeking validation through my acts and contributions. It’s quite counterintuitive. I’m wired to be a Martha.

Waging war against the strongholds of generational trauma is exhausting, but so was the weight of carrying them. Changing the world is God’s job. Placing myself in position and doing the work to allow God to heal my spirit, is mine. Breaking the painful patterns of generational trauma in order for my children to rise into the world as strong Christians, my job.

Sometimes, we are called to be still. In my stillness, He is working. And I am so grateful.