Dear reader,
Well, now it has been two years since I have posted here. We have been through a global pandemic, experienced a major reckoning with the way society treats Black lives, another reckoning with the damage humans have caused to the Earth’s climate, and are now confronted with the kind of pain humans can cause by waging war.
The past couple of years have brought everyone to their knees on occasion. As a betrayal trauma survivor though, the past couple of years have likely affected you in particular ways that are distinct from folks who haven’t been through betrayal trauma.
You feel it all. You feel numb. You feel it all.
Because you are more likely to be wired for empathy, you feel all the stuff that directly impacts you and you also feel all the stuff that doesn’t directly impact you. At times you feel so much you want to explode. At other times you feel numb because your fuses are blown from feeling or because you are exhausted from all the grief, fear, and dread.
You feel extraordinary guilt and shame
You have a near-constant feeling that you aren’t personally doing enough to make things better. Maybe you shouldn’t have taken that shower today. Maybe you shouldn’t drive a car. Maybe you stood too close to that person in the grocery store even though you think you might have a tickle in your throat. Maybe you are speaking up too much and/or too little and taking the wrong kind of actions against racism. The breaks from the guilt and shame attacks may be few and far between. Paradoxically, the guilt and shame may be paralyzing and keep you from acting to make things better. You probably feel guilt and shame about being paralyzed too.
Old patterns may have reared their head
In the past two years you may have found yourself lashing out, withdrawing, using substances, staying up too late, forgetting to eat, or whatever old patterns you used to have that may have improved before the pandemic. You may think these patterns have re-emerged because something is wrong with you. They didn’t. They reemerged because of the exceptional stress you have been going through. Betrayal trauma habits can intensify during times of stress.
You have a nagging feeling that you need to be kind to yourself
As a betrayal trauma survivor, you have been conditioned to be mean, callous, sometimes downright cruel to yourself. At the same time, your high empathy tells you that we are all deeply interconnected, and that kindness to yourself is kindness to the world. You might not know how to be kind to yourself, or you might be waiting for someone to give you permission to be kind to yourself. In any case, trust that nagging sense. It will lead you in the right direction.
Why would I be kind to myself?
Here are 10 reasons to get you started.
Be kind to yourself because you have been working so hard for so long.
Be kind to yourself because it will help you think more clearly.
Be kind to yourself because you have suffered enough.
Be kind to yourself because it can reduce physical pain.
Be kind to yourself because then you won’t be as lonely, even when you are alone.
Be kind to yourself because it will encourage others to be kind to themselves too.
Be kind to yourself because it will help you love others more fully.
Be kind to yourself because it is a skill that takes practice to get good at.
Be kind to yourself because it is a new adventure.
Be kind to yourself because it will help you stand stronger in what matters to you.
How do I be kind to myself?
Being kind to yourself means something different to everyone and discovering what it means to you is part of the adventure. That said, I think the trees have something to offer us all in the way of kindness.
This week's belonging reminder:
When I am Among the Trees
By Mary Oliver
When I am among the trees,
especially the willows and the honey locust,
equally the beech, the oaks and the pines,
they give off such hints of gladness.
I would almost say that they save me, and daily.
I am so distant from the hope of myself,
in which I have goodness, and discernment,
and never hurry through the world
but walk slowly, and bow often.
Around me the trees stir in their leaves
and call out, “Stay awhile.”
The light flows from their branches.
And they call again, “It’s simple,” they say,
“and you too have come
into the world to do this, to go easy, to be filled
with light, and to shine.”
This week's practice suggestion:
Each morning for the next 7 days, set a timer for 5 minutes and write without picking up the pen using the prompt, “What do I need today?” Come up with at least one thing you can do to try to give that to yourself and write it down too.