Using Somatic Experiencing to Heal Trauma
Claire and Ingrid
Author: Ingrid Clayton, Ph.D.
As a clinical psychologist (and as Claire’s first nanny), Claire’s mother Melissa and I thought it might be helpful to discuss the impact of trauma on the cystic fibrosis or “CF” community, both for the patients, and the family and friends who support their journey.
While we once thought of trauma in a rather specific way––veterans who experienced wartime, or someone who endured a horrific car crash––we now know that trauma is more far-reaching. Largely because trauma is defined by how our bodies respond to an event rather than the specifics of the event itself, and because trauma is stored in the nervous system, something we all possess.
When we experience great loss, terror or helplessness, our bodies can become stuck in a trauma response: fight, flight, freeze and fawn. It’s as though we never fully process what happened and are still bracing against it. Sometimes my clients express feeling like they are on a hamster wheel, never moving back into the flow of their life. They feel forever changed and rely on coping mechanisms to keep their equilibrium. Some people feel tremendous anger, fighting everything and everyone. Some feel completely disconnected from themselves, their feelings and environment. Mired in trauma responses, we become accustomed to numbing, distracting, over-working, people-pleasing, control-seeking, and losing ourselves to various addictions.
As a trauma therapist, I work with my client’s nervous system to help them find more safety and calm, to experience more flexibility and presence. I have found that these tools are effective for just about everyone, whether we classify our experiences as traumatic or not.
The language of the nervous system is the senses. We can use sight, smell, taste, touch and hearing as a way to restore a feeling of safety in our bodies. Based on Peter Levine’s model of Somatic Experiencing, when we feel safe, we have greater access to the rational part of our brains, we make better choices and can carry them out. Orienting through our senses can bring us deeper into the present moment. We take fuller breaths and can move through whatever is happening with more grace and self-compassion.
Take a moment to look around the room. Notice what you see. Perhaps there is something that captures your attention and you can let your eyes linger there for a moment. Notice any sensations, feelings or images that arise as you slow down and connect with your surroundings.
We run on auto-pilot so often, we don’t stop to connect with our environment and this simple act of orienting and grounding can help us connect with ourselves in a profound way. Some people like to close their eyes and orient to the sounds they hear. Identifying even the slightest noise like passing traffic or the ceiling fan. Perhaps you want to try that now.
Try all of the senses and see if you prefer one over the other as a way of resourcing. Your body will usually give some feedback like a spontaneous deeper breath, more awareness of your physical self, feelings of calm, or other signs personal to you.
Claire seemed to have an instinctual understanding of what it meant to orient to her environment. The way she decorated her hospital room is a perfect illustration. By changing the harsh overhead lighting to a bedside lamp, she changed the atmosphere to a more pleasing one. By hanging art, and bringing her personal bedspread and pillows, she surrounded herself with things that made her feel at home. Knowing she would be in the same place for quite some time, she felt driven to create a more pleasing environment. And by doing so, it allowed her body to feel at ease.
She loved the scent of flowers or fragrant candles which can lower our levels of stress. Claire loved music, too. She had her favorite playlists and sometimes even brought a keyboard into her hospital room. Playing music that elicits a certain mood is a great way to regulate the nervous system, but we also know that singing stimulates the vagus nerve, the longest nerve in the body. By singing, humming or chanting, we activate the parasympathetic nervous system, telling our brains that all is well. Some of the happiest times of my own life have been singing with Claire in her hospital room. We’d spend hours harmonizing, making silly videos and writing music that made us laugh.
Making art allowed Claire to transform difficult feelings, to externalize them into an art-piece. One of her favorite sayings was, “turn your pain into art” and she was constantly expressing herself through painting, collage, making little worlds from found objects—even plastic syringes and hospital gloves.
Whether you can identify a particular traumatic event in your life, or not, I encourage you to experiment with these tools of nervous system regulation. See what your body responds to.
And if you believe you have experienced trauma and are unable to move through it on your own, I urge you to consult a trauma therapist. There are many different modalities of trauma therapy but they tend to engage clients differently than talk therapy alone.
Ingrid Clayton, Ph.D., is a clinical psychologist and author in Los Angeles. Her latest book is a memoir titled, Believing Me: Healing from Narcissistic Abuse and Complex Trauma. Additionally, she is a contributor to Psychology Today where her article, “What is Self-Gaslighting?” is considered an Essential Read. Ingrid has been interviewed for countless publications including Women’s Health Magazine and a guest on many podcasts including Navigating Narcissism with Dr. Ramani.
In addition to raising her beautiful son, Ingrid believes that gaining the courage to write Believing Me is her greatest achievement to date.
For more information, visit www.IngridClayton.com or @IngridClaytonPhD on Instagram.