Tag Archives: Trauma

Trauma

I Was Wrong

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For the last few months, I have taken a deep plunge into healing. After years of therapy from all different modalities, I found very little difference. My life would be fine and “functional” for a few years, only to be followed by an inevitable crash. I’ve been through this cycle for most of teens and all of 20s. Each time, I picked myself back up only to white-knuckle my way through “functionality”–until, the inevitable crash.

For so long, these “crashes”—long periods of depression, psychosomatic symptoms, and lapses of complete dysfunction–seemed unrelated. I would excel in work, friendship, and relationships only to lose all of them. Time and time again, I felt dejected, humiliated and utterly worthless.

Why do I keep messing it up? What is wrong with me!?

In the aftermath, I sought out help–only to help me get back on my feet again and once I felt “ready” enough, I plunged in headfirst into work, relationships and life with even more resolve and stubbornness.

I can’t let him win. I can’t let trauma win. I HAVE to do it right, this time!

Yet, I couldn’t. I couldn’t do it in a sustainable manner.

For decades, I deluded myself into thinking that I could “white-knuckle” it through life. I danced between diagnoses, swapped out medications, changed therapists, implemented new strategies from the self-help book of the season; yet, every single intervention yielded minimal results.

This year, I was forced to face the lingering effects of unaddressed trauma; my body gave me no choice. The unprecedented seizures, fainting episodes, and gaping lapses of memory loss jilted me to my very core. I was desperate, in more ways than one. Some days, I was more scared of the seizures and syncope episodes; other days, I found myself begging God that they take my life.

I found myself in an impossible situation where I was equally scared of death and of life

It was this very predicament that finally brought me to the doorstep of surrender. I didn’t know what more to do; every willful intervention of mine had not worked. I didn’t want to die and I certainly was not living. I thought if I was just strong enough, stubborn enough, knowledgeable enough…I would be able to “beat it”. In my case, knowledge was not power. I went to school to get a masters degree in psychology; I studied the ins and outs of different modalities & dissected the interventions of esteemed theorists. As a counselor, I became adept in helping others navigate through their own hardship and grief–but I could do nothing for myself.

Knowledge, in my case, was my Achilles. It brought me hubris, and an unhelpful sense of intellectual arrogance. My training in counseling and psychology bred an avid resistance to be treated. I thought I knew better, so I refused the treatment prescribed for me by other mental health professionals.

But, knowing better doesn’t always lead to doing better.

There is a reason that mental health professionals and doctors cannot treat themselves or their loved ones. Sometimes, we are just too close to the subject. In my case, I was the subject and could do very little to help. There is a reason “blind spots” are called just that. We cannot pinpoint them using our own biased way of thinking.

The problem cannot be solved using the same mind creating it.

In June of this year, I finally got to a point where I could no longer tolerate the suffering. Now, I have come to realize that the suffering was being perpetuated by my relentless need to be in control.

We must let go of the need to control to gain it.

Five months ago, I begrudgingly started the process of EMDR. Despite years of others suggesting it for me, I resisted it at all costs–all because, I simply did not know how it would work. I had no faith in the process. How could moving my eyes a certain way help unpack layers of complex trauma? It honestly sounded laughable.

Yet, here we are.

I am no where close to being “healed”, but the beautiful paradox is that I’ve let go of the idea of being “healed.” It is no longer some faraway, unachievable destination that torments me; it is here, and now. Throughout the EMDR process, my healing has been anything but linear; it has ebbed and flowed with life itself, and there is infinite beauty in that. I no longer find myself fantasizing of a perfectly “healed Maham”; I no longer torture myself by comparing my “now” to that preconceived ideal.

My suffocating grip on the rigid definition of “healing” has loosened.

Day by day, I’m learning to experience myself as I am. And, dare I say, life would not be intolerable if I remain who I am today, for all of my days. The rigid parameters I placed around creating “a good life” are slowly dissolving. These days, progress seems far more promising than perfection; I find myself welcoming minor setbacks as necessary precursors to growth and “healing”.

I am starting to assess “healing” by my ability to tolerate feeling.

Bit by bit, I am starting to work through unspeakable pain. In doing so, I’m finding acquaintances in connection, love, and even ephemeral joy.

Nowadays, I find that even gratitude chooses to sit by me sometimes.

Thank God, I don’t have all the answers. Thank God, I don’t understand everything. Thank God for the realization that I never had to.

Thank God, I finally had the courage to be wrong.

— because of it, I’m finally being led to what feels right.

❤

healing, My struggles, Poetry

Another Notch on the Belt

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By: Maham Abid

The creaky office felt sterile and cold.

My brimming anxiety grew into something bold.

One more visit down—another notch on the belt,

What’s wrong isn’t always clear to see, but it is deeply felt.

It keeps being suggested that it is “all in my head.”

But if that’s really so, why is my body responding with distress?

I admit I can be neurotic and full of unnecessary fear,

But I’ve lived most of my life with anxiety looming near.

That’s precisely how I identified these new symptoms as severe.

I am no stranger to silently analyzing the absurdity of my worry.

So, how ironic is it that when I finally speak up, I’m dismissed in such a hurry?

Why won’t someone validate the sensations that I feel?

I have no ulterior motive; I just want to heal.

So today, as I sit stiffly in yet another sterile waiting room,

My mind can’t help but wander off to similar memories of gloom.

This doctor, too, shall say that he can’t specify what’s wrong.

And refer me for more poking & prodding–which will only prolong–

–me suffering silently, trying to make sense of what is really going on.

This entire process has felt like crazy-making at its worst,

The constant dismissal of my symptoms feels like a curse.

Is it ungrateful of me to almost hope they find something soon?

So I can finally get some reprieve from the sense of impending doom?

Of course, I don’t want it to be something that doesn’t have a cure.

What I desire is external proof to validate my intuition for sure.

At any point now, another physician will walk in.

He will talk at me in medical jargon that’ll make my head spin.

I know our dear doctors see innumerable patients every day,

but communicating genuine care is not an ethic to be pushed away.

I understand that sometimes answers are complex and hard to find,

But perhaps being transparent with me won’t leave me feeling as resigned.

How is it that the people with the most knowledge of all,

–are the very ones that leave so many feeling unheard and small?

“Something is wrong!”, my intuition cries.

“I’m truly not here based on fabricated lies.”

It is okay for professionals to not have all the answers quite yet,

but empathy and care are traits that no human should forget.

If we continue to view our patients as “just another one”,

We will, carelessly, add more damage to what was already done.

#NotAnotherNotchOnTheBelt

Love you always, all ways

IG: @mahamabidtalent

Youtube: https://www.youtube.com/@mahamabidtalent

Free Therapy, I ponder about life..., psychology

The Body Keeps Score

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And track of your bullshit too (unfortunately)

Ya’ll I started reading again. I immediately regretted it. I came across this rattle snake quote:

“The greatest source of our suffering is the lies we tell to ourselves.”

Dr. Kolk, you nearly gave me a heart attack with that quote.

And then…you used it twice?

To make sure repressed memories had not just one–but two chances to pester me?

I see your subliminal messages, Kolk, I see you. Lol.

Anyway, I started re-reading “The Body Keeps Score”, a book by Dr. Kolk (MD) who offers sturdy evidence supporting the psychosomatic model of wellness. I admire how the book reminds us to view the human being through a wholesome, holistic lens– especially when tailoring treatment and interventions from a psychological, spiritual and physical standpoint. Furthermore, in his book, he manages to brilliantly unpack trauma in a way that is accessible to the touchy population that struggles with it, day in and day out. It is easy to follow, written objectively, and therefore, most importantly, explains and “unpacks” trauma and its effects in a a way that is NOT retraumatizing.

THE FIRST YUCKY EXPERIENCE

So anyway, back to my first re-stab at figuring out why this quote elicited such a disharmonious yet congruent feeling from deep within a crevice of my soul?

“The greatest source of our suffering is the lies we tell to ourselves.”

In this revered book, “The Body Keeps Score”, Dr. Kolk refers to the preceding quote, not once–but twice. I wish I could say that the first time I saw it, I just glazed over it, giving it no attention; I truly wish I could tell you my mind’s ability to repress sh*t was stronger than my body’s ability to react to the sensation it evoked. I think that I would have found some solace is NOT being able to relate to the quote, despite how abstractly I did. It would have confirmed my bias because I could use my detachment as “proof” to myself that it really is “mind over matter” and in this case, “mind over body and trauma.” But…that would keep me in denial (which is an area I apparently love hanging out in)… and it would also kinda go against the very premises of the book he wrote 🙄

Dr Kolk’s very research builds its case on an overarching and (most likely true) assumption. Like many other social scientists and neurobiologists, Kolk implies that no matter how arduously the mind tries to make us forget about big feelings, the body doesn’t just simply follow suit and “forget” too. This phenomenon is so evident in the recollections of relentless flashbacks experienced by so many PTSD warriors. It is such an odd feeling. One second, our day can be going fine and dandy then one flipping sensory cue later–like a certain quote, a phrase, a sound, someone’s voice, a fragrance, a temperature fluctuation, a visual cue, the cadence with which one talks… any sensory “trigger”– which may seem miniscule and relatively insignificant has the capacity to bring with it a torrential tsunami of sensory and affective overload that is so typical to trauma.

So…. long story short–no. I can’t, with full honesty, say that I was able to simply skim over that quote without feeling any connection to it, regardless of how distant it felt at first. The truth is the words literally caught my attention. The first time I saw the quote was on page 11.

“The greatest source of our suffering is the lies we tell to ourselves.”

I read it, it made me stop. That means a lot to me.

I also know that when it comes to quantifying something, phrases like “a lot” and “a little” are subjective measurements of that are so variable and therefore unhelpful. So let me rephrase– for me, having a random “quote” elicit some abstract “sensation/feeling” out of me that I couldn’t even pinpoint long enough to make me cranky was pretty remarkable.

I don’t think you realize how severe my inattentive subbrand of neurodivergence is.

On that topic, for something to really stop my inattentive, million mph mind in its tracks, even for a few seconds--it means a lot. It was the first sentence in this book that made me truly pause. It left me speechless.

The first time I came across the quote, it simply resonated with a repressed subconscious part of me. It’s almost as if when I read it, a deeply buried part of myself echoed back out, noting, “hmm…how peculiar–I wonder what parts Maham’s brain is hellbent on hiding from her…and why?”

The quote read me. I didn’t read the quote. 

I swear, I’m not trying to sound like Yoda; I’m trying to use words and language to effectively capture and hopefully, convey the eerie experience of association i had with that quote. Reading it…reminded me of something very familiar–like deja vu. Okay, so most of ya’ll will understand this example–its the same, unexplainable, intuitive feeling that you get when you meet an absolute stranger–and in that moment, you don’t know how and no reason to logically think why, but you FEEL and KNOW that this person is going to come to mean something so important to you one day. Maybe the experience is a result of Carl Jung’s “collective unconscious” giving us a kick in the behind saying we’ve experienced their energy in a past life…or maybe the experience is to activate our fight or flight reflexes to run because we are running into the next Ted Bundy reincarnated–I don’t know. I deflect. 

THE SECOND, EVEN YUCKIER EXPERIENCE

Anyway, the SECOND time I happened to “stumble” upon Dr. Kolk’s accidental use of the same eerie quote on page 27, it came together. I felt, understood, and remembered why the quote struck such a deep discordant chord within me. My thoughts, feelings, and sensorimotor recall reintegrated to form a cohesive memory that I could call upon.

That’s the irony in trauma–the very experience of it impairs our prefrontal cortex functioning, which is responsible for a lot of higher order thinking skills. Sometimes I feel like trauma created this weird delay between my right and left brain conversations. Anyway, on page 27, the second time I read the quote, had given my right brain sufficient time to get in contact with its left counterpart, very temporarily turning on my and my executive functioning skills.

What the pedantic jibberjabber above pretty much says, is that my mind finally caught up to my body, and I understood why the same quote had evoked a disconcerting and gut-wrenching feeling when I first read it on page 11.

“The greatest source of our suffering is the lies we tell to ourselves.”

“Well,” I had initially thought, “what lies am I telling myself?”

“Um…none–” is what my my frantic flight-or-flight response had impulsively interjected, fearing that we may be getting “warmer” to the truth.

The book talks about how since the greatest sources of our suffering are the lies we tell ourselves, then healing must essentially lie in us becoming rigorously honest with ALL parts of ourselves. That can be particularly hard in individuals whose chronic struggle with cPTSD has resulted in large degrees of dissociative episodes that are sprinkled with larger and larger time periods they have no recollection of. Because, to be completely honest, I feel like I have realized the “lies I’m telling myself” before in therapy…I just think, they are too painful to sit with. We are all strong enough to face our demons for a brief period, until the human brain launches its super power of self-preservation power and despite realizing what’s holding you back, you also simultaneously know that you WILL MOST CERTAINLY FORGET any truth that can help you make true progress very SOON.

So, putting my judgement aside, I reread the quote, and thought about it. “Seriously, all bull**** aside, Maham,” I asked myself, “What is going on?” What am I hiding from myself? I mean, clearly knowing me, if I’m hiding it that strongly from myself, it probably has something to do with a lot of shame–like a crippling amount of shame that I can’t psychologically handle without the possibility of fracture. Dr. Kolk talks about this agonizing shame as a hallmark among most PTSD survivors, despite the inherent variability seen in their respective traumas. The complex nature of trauma does not help, as oftentimes, survivors snap and react in ways that are not characteristic of themselves immediately after a trauma; it is usually the aftermath of the moment in which the psyche fractures. (Yall, there is a great Tyler Perry movie on Netflix about this called “Straw”–>Watch it!)

Shame could come from the actions one did/did not do to protect themselves in their situation, and yet shame could also come from dealing with with isolating stigmas, and ostracizing cultural narratives. The sources for the tormenting shame felt by trauma survivors are myriad in nature, however, the palpable presence of the dementor that is shame in all those who have experienced PTSD is a great starting point for further research.

As I sat with the quote longer, my stomach dropped.

Why do I refuse to eat? Why do I not want to live? What am I not forgiving myself for?– so much so that I want to punish myself by barely getting by?

The intrusive thought/s just popped into my head, and gave birth to a million other equally disturbing tangential thoughts. Because clearly, the one thing all my doctors, despite their specialty, can agree on is that:

I am slowly killing myself by depriving myself nutritionally in a chronic manner; it is not suicide that is imminent. It is a confounding and tragic type of slow existential death.

And it is a painful and slow death.

It looks like a period of it “just staying all in your head”, until it isn’t. Then, much like it happened for me, cute new little symptoms start emerging as physiological manifestations–but they are just psychosomatic manifestations of the same age-old psychological struggles I’ve been going through for the last three decades.

Maybe my shame lies in knowing how avidly I pursued higher education grasping at any information about trauma and its insidious impacts. I think I did in this in an attempt to “get ahead of it” and not let the trauma I felt brimming under the surface affect me. Perhaps the source of my shame results from KNOWING better and yet choosing not TO DO better…even though I think some part of me always knew there was a different way…. one that had worked for many before me.

Accumulating all the “academic knowledge” about human behavior and life after trauma, my mind still remains just as hellbent on unseeing the fact that I am literally the textbook case of the subjects we read about in our graduate courses who presented with CPTSD!

My stubborn mind refuses to believe that yes–trauma can even catch up to me, Maham Abid. My comprehension about it on a “cognitive” level does not imply that my knowledge of trauma ever translated into wisdom.

If it had, I would’ve been able to help myself from repeating the same agonizing cycles that have left me crippled with shame. “Insanity is doing the same thing, over and over again, expecting a different result,” right?

So when I read the quote on page 27 again, I tried delving past that initial recognition, and tried to connect to it more intimately. Leaning into it was not fun. It created that nasty, “crawling out of my body” sensation whose origin my mind couldn’t quite connect to or trace. I think the sensation highlighted the stark difference between how “well” I convince myself I am handling my trauma versus how “unwell” I’m actually coping with it… like, at any given moment of time. I mean, a lie I definitely perpetuate is that I, unlike all the other people I have studied about, can somehow magically go through years and years of jarring trauma and come out of it, unlike everyone else, completely unscathed.

The assumption I’m trying to highlight is the inaccurate notion that knowing better or cognitively understanding something better results in doing better. I always tend to underestimate how deeply pervasive the effects of my own residual trauma are. Likewise, I tend to overestimate how “fast” I can have recovered from some really horrific things–while in actuality, I’m only ever really putting band-aids over a gaping wound.

My amazing psychiatrist (yall, she’s put up with me for almost a decade), has told me before, so eloquently and concisely what the problem is. Years ago, she told me:

“Maham, I can keep your body alive (to some extent) using these medicinal interventions…but that’s not saying much. The rest is up to you.”

Alright, brain = explode

More deep dives into the dearth of dreary discordant dissonance later.

Hasta luego,

More bones to pick with you later, Dr. Kolk 😋

My struggles, psychology, Trauma, Uncategorized

Unpacking “Self-compassion”

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Understanding Self-Compassion

“Unpacking WHAT?” I blurted out aloud, years ago. I was in the middle of attending a continuing teaching certification course.

“Unpacking standards,” the speaker repeated, much slower, almost to be clapping out the syllables.

Judging by the blank stare on my early teacher face, she looked up to my Bambi, doe-eyed self, and repeated, once again, “yes–really figuring out how you measure the things we ask you to measure.”

Floored. I was floored. My brain had never thought that far.

We have these objectives–these assessment tools–“points of relativity” from which we are supposed to evaluate humans…in comparison to how they are doing to other humans. 💁‍♀️

Each educator at every level has seen them, heard of them and even had them beat into their nightmares.

Yet so few times do we have John Maxwell type “leaders” who truly take time to explain what these subjectively defined target points mean. In my 8 years of teaching, I’ve seldom had someone really break down what each objective means– into real world, observable, measurable examples I could observe in the classroom.

How am I supposed to know what a 5 year old looks like when they are “applying knowledge of structure and phonics to decode text?” That sentence alone makes my own head explode 🤯

So here is a blog post about unpacking self-compassion.

~Self Compassion: What it is it about?~

Self-compassion, as defined by researcher Dr. Kristin Neff, involves treating yourself with the same kindness, care, and understanding that you would extend to a loved one in distress. The three core components are:

1. Mindfulness

Observing your feelings without judgment or over-identification.

This is the one with whom I continue to wrestle a challenging relationship with. WE have a lot to learn about one another (which means…I have a lot of surrendering to do #nottodaysatan

2. Common Humanity

Realizing that suffering and imperfection are shared human experiences.

Curiosity is a safer friend to sit with alone; sometimes the daunting intonations of its’ companions, shame and hope, are more arduous to sit with together.

Realizing that suffering and imperfection are shared human experiences.

3. Self-Kindness

Acknowledging your pain with warmth and understanding, rather than criticism.

Self-compassion isn’t self-pity, passivity, or a lack of accountability. Instead, it’s a powerful tool to support “emotional well-being”, especially for individuals processing trauma or working toward healing:

Why Self-Compassion Matters

When life’s challenges become overwhelming (and they will), self-compassion serves, as an anchor. Research shows that compassion-focused practices can reduce anxiety, depression, and feelings of shame, key obstacles for those healing from PTSD or cPTSD. A lack of self-compassion amplifies self-criticism and isolation, leaving many trapped in cycles of guilt or fear. Embracing self-compassion creates a foundation for healing and reconnecting with yourself.

In a fast-paced world that values hustle, achievement, and productivity, self-compassion often takes a backseat. For many—including those dealing with trauma, PTSD, cPTSD, or the aftermath of difficult experiences like assault—

Practicing kindness toward yourself can feel foreign, or even impossible. However, self-compassion is a vital step toward healing and empowerment.

In the next informative blog post, you’ll discover 10 simple yet transformative ways to cultivate self-compassion, backed by mindfulness, presence, and gentle practices you can integrate into everyday life.

Love you always, ALL ways!

IG: @mahamabidtalent

healing, My struggles, psychology, Trauma

Finding Strength in the Storm

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Navigating Life Immediately After Trauma

Trauma has a way of upending our world in an instant. For women who have bravely endured rape, abuse, or assault, the initial aftermath can feel like standing in most turbulent part of a hurricane—overwhelmed, shaken, unsure where to turn.

While the emotional chaos may feel insurmountable, it’s important to know this: healing is possible, and you don’t have to navigate this journey alone. How do I know this? Because you’re proof. You merely reading this blog post by some random stranger shows me that despite how I may feel at times, I’m not actually alone.

My goal for this blog post is to offer insights, actionable steps, and compassionate guidance to help us begin the process of recovery, no matter the crisis. We have already shown extraordinary strength by surviving. Now, let’s focus on taking the first steps toward healing.

1. Acknowledge the Overwhelm: You are not broken.

The days immediately following trauma are often filled with a tangle of emotions—shock, guilt, anger, sadness, and fear. These feelings are not a sign of weakness or failure. They are a normal response to an abnormal event. Trauma impacts both the mind and body, and understanding this can be the first step toward regaining control.

Take a moment to remind yourself that what happened to you does not define who you are. You are not broken. If you take anything away from this pedantic blog, please let it be this: you are not broken. We are simply responding to a devastating experience, and that, in itself, is a reflection of your humanity.

ACTIONABLE STEP: Begin by naming your emotions. Journaling, voice recording, or even speaking aloud to yourself can help you identify and process these feelings. This first step is vital in beginning to untangle the emotional storm inside.

2. Prioritize Your Safety and Basic Needs

The immediate aftermath of trauma can leave you feeling unsafe in your own skin. Reestablishing a sense of security, both physically and emotionally, is crucial. That might mean creating boundaries with people who don’t support your recovery or avoiding places that trigger painful memories.

Coming from a culture in which we aren’t to date, it is so easy to pin any sort of negative domestic exchange on the women. The dissolution of a marriage? a woman’s fault. The husband cheating? it’s the woman’s fault. Assault, abuse, rape? No brainer. WOMAN’S FAULT.

And honestly, I don’t think it’s an exclusively cultural thing. I see it everywhere–in every continent; that makes my heart very sad.

If I had a penny for every time I’ve sought out support and understanding in contemporary culture and heard the statements above instead, I would be a millionaire—

“See, this is why Allah swt told you not to date–He knew these things would happen (which to some extent, I agree), –so it is your fault. If you hadn’t dated, you wouldn’t have suffered ______”

I digress.

In the aftermath of a crisis, it is equally important to tend to your physical needs as well, such as adequate sleep, nourishing food, and hydration. These seem like small tasks, but they lay the foundation for emotional healing.

ACTIONABLE STEP: If safe, reach out to a trusted support system, whether it’s a friend, family member, hotline, or therapist. Convey your need for safety and begin to design a personal plan to help you feel grounded.

3. Give Yourself Permission to Feel

Survivors of rape and abuse often try to suppress their feelings, either out of fear of being judged or because the feelings are too hard to face. However, bottling up your emotions will only prolong your pain. It’s okay to cry, yell, rest, or express your emotions in a way that feels safe for you.

One of the most painful consequences of trauma is feeling invalidated—whether that’s by others or your own inner critic. You may hear thoughts like:

  • it was my fault
  • it was because i wore that
  • it was because I drank too much
  • it was because I was vulnerable. I knew I shouldn’t have gone.
  • it was because I dated.
  • it was because I asked for it.
  • it was because I don’t remember it.

The list goes ON and ON. But you know what I find to be the motif among the list….

“It was because I deserved it'”.

ACTIONABLE STEP- Try journaling as a form of release. Write without censuring yourself—this is a space just for you. Putting your feelings into words can help you process what happened and regain some sense of control. Remember, feelings are not right or wrong; they are simply part of your healing process.

For me, writing poetry is such a cathartic experience. When I’m flooded with intrusive thoughts, I start finding words that rhyme in my head. Honestly, as a kindergarten teacher, it works. It takes quite a bit of brain power to generate words that rhyme–much less, string them together in a sentence that abstractly captures my feelings.

Understand the Immediate Aftermath of Trauma

When trauma occurs, your body and mind react instinctively to process what happened. These reactions—whether they manifest as numbness, fear, anger, guilt, or disbelief—are completely normal. Your brain is trying to make sense of something senseless and figure out how to protect you moving forward.

Many survivors describe feeling like they’re in a fog or like life has suddenly changed in an instant. After a sexual assault or act of abuse, the fight-or-flight response remains heightened, leading to physical and emotional exhaustion. The first step in addressing these overwhelming reactions is to remind yourself: everything you’re feeling right now is a valid response to trauma.

Our journey to healing starts with self-compassion.

And that’s what we’ll dive deeper into in my next post–practicing self-compassion.

But for now…

ACTIONABLE STEP: Start practicing and incorporating self-compassion.

Love you, all ways, always.

IG: @mahamabidtalent