What is the Story of Your Nervous System?

Working in trauma, grief, and attachment requires a framework of understanding people through the story of their nervous system. You see, it is our nervous system that has been collecting data our whole lives that determines our emotional, behavioral, and cognitive experiences. Our nervous system holds the story of our life experiences-including the good, the bad, and the ugly. 

Have you ever thought about yourself in this way? What is the story of your nervous system? How does your body respond in times of stress, love, excitement, fear, or rejection (to name a few)? How do you respond to being needed by another person? In contrast, how do you respond when someone doesn’t need you? What do you do when someone expresses emotion in front of you? What about when you show emotion in front of others? These are all questions that our nervous system answers.

Learning the story of our nervous system is an overwhelming process. Acknowledging relationships and experiences that were significant in our lives is often heavy and emotionally intense. I find we often want so badly to tell ourselves that things didn’t matter “that much,” or that we’ve “moved on,” or that “it all happened so long ago I was a kid.” We have the same nervous system our whole lives. It’s always taking in data and that data gets encoded into our emotional, behavioral, and cognitive functioning, at any age. As much as I wish this was true, age is not relevant. Even experiences that occur before we can even talk are influential to our nervous system. 

Today I invite you to go through the questions I’ve posed throughout today’s message. Take some time and think about the story of your nervous system. Consider what life events and relationships make up the chapters to the story. And, as an added challenge-I invite you to start perceiving the people in your lives through a similar lens. While you may not know the story of their nervous system and the intimate details involved, it can do a wonder for our relationships if we simply practice being curious, rather than being immediately judgmental. When a person in your life has a reaction that stands out to you, I invited you to remind yourself, they too have a story.

Be mindful, lead with love, and don’t forget to listen. 

Dr. C

Ping Pong

A really unhelpful question we humans can berate ourselves with in response to terminal news is, “Would it be better if I didn’t know?” Faced with holding the knowledge that you or someone you love has a terminal illness, we will search our thoughts in desperation for relief. Like a never ending game of ping pong, we find ourselves fantasizing that it may have somehow been better to not know and be taken by surprise by death. Aside from that question being unhelpful, it is also question we can never truly answer. Although our anxiety makes us believe the fantasy would be somehow different, that’s all it is-a fantasy. 

I specifically use the word desperation when referring to asking ourselves these types of questions. Let’s call it what it is. When we are faced with the unimaginable, we are desperate for relief. We so badly want to believe there is a world in which this process would be easier. A wild thought if we take a moment to really dissect it. We desperately want to find a version of life where losing someone we love isn’t painful. As much as we all wished that was the case, losing our loved ones involves pain.

Although this game of ping pong may be labeled by some (by me) as unhelpful, I dare also say it is a game that is comforting. Yes, two (or more) things can be true at the same time. To engage in a world where the process of death would somehow be less painful, even if this world is fantasy, can bring relief. How? It serves as a temporary escape and distraction from the current pain we are saturated in. It also gives us a sense of control, which is important to our brains and how it functions. Perceived control is not only comforting, it’s regulating. Although there might not be an answer to end the game of ping pong, it can feel good to play for a little while. 

As with most things, there is a balance to how often to engage in this game. It’s an enticing game that can be comforting and keep us disengaged from the present moment. That disengagement may feel good temporarily, but disengagement does exactly what it says in it’s name-it disengages us from the present. Escaping is attractive when the present moment is unbearable. We are only human, which means we are limited to our capacities. When our nervous system senses these capacities are tapped, it looks for relief. It’s tough to continue to face pain day after day and we can make the mistake that avoidance is the best route. Avoidance may temporarily relieve us, but it also robs us of all of the other aspects to the relationship we are grieving. We forget that in the midst of that pain is so much love and we can convince ourselves the two cannot exist together. It’s a convincing lie; a lie so convincing that we often believe it and turn away. Today’s message is a reminder that although that may feel true, it is not. The relationships you may be grieving are filled with so much more. And while pain may now be a part of the interaction in the relationship, I encourage you to not let it be the definer. I encourage you to be present and to remind yourself of other emotions that coexist in the midst of pain. Love, humor, anger, excitement, and delight are just a few that come to mind. 

If you’re new here, I don’t always tie things up nicely in a bow. Mostly because the work I do in trauma, grief, and attachment doesn’t come with bows. Instead I offer reflection and encouragement to feel the unsettling, to engage in the present moment even if it’s hard, and to allow yourself to play whatever your own version of ping pong is from time to time. It’s ok to need breaks, it’s ok to be overwhelmed, it’s ok to be in pain. The goal is to try and balance acceptance and allowance of these terrible feelings, while also encouraging ourselves to engage in the relationship.

Below are some reflections to support this process:

What emotions are involved in my grief other than pain?

How do I know when I’m overwhelmed and need to take a break?

Do I find myself avoiding the relationship?

Is my version of ping pong different or similar to the one described above?

Be mindful, lead with love, and don’t forget to listen. 

Dr. C

The Terrible, Awful, and Overwhelming: Helplessness in the midst of traumatic experiences

I had an idea already planned for today’s message. I was going to talk about distress tolerance in relationships. An important and interesting topic, however; some things in my life brought another issue to the forefront. How freaking awful it is to feel helpless. 

My areas of expertise focus on trauma, grief, and attachment. All of which have an element of helplessness because these are all areas of life that happen to us. Life does not ask us permission, nor does it check in on how these events will impact us. Traumatic experiences happen to us, without notice, without permission.

The thing about humans is that we like predictability, consistency, and routine. Familiarity is a comfort to the brain and nervous system. When we encounter traumatic experiences, one factor, among many, that is distressing is the factor of lack of control. It’s really a mind f*** to process the idea that something significantly scary, threatening, and devastating can happen and there isn’t anything we can do about it. The human brain doesn’t like that, and it’s common protective response is anxiety. We start having obsessive thoughts, overly focusing on every detail, running “alternative reality” versions in our heads, and engaging in rigid/compulsive behaviors. Why? Because all of these things are the human attempt at feeling control in the midst of the terrible, awful, and overwhelming nature of helplessness. 

While we need to give ourselves grace when those anxiety thoughts and behaviors come our way; we need to also remember these control-seeking behaviors do not change what is happening in our lives. They are attempts at distraction and coping, often through avoidance. So, if you find yourself tasking or overthinking, welcome to the club of being human. These reactions are to be expected in responses to traumatic experiences. 

So, what’s the takeaway? I think it’s about understanding normative responses to trauma. If we can see something as human, it can make it a bit easier to approach, understand, and ultimately challenge. If you find yourself engaging in these anxiety behaviors, after first reminding yourself that you are human, here are something you could do to support your brain and nervous system to combat the terrible, awful, and overwhelming nature of helplessness. 

Rather than avoiding it, I invite you to:

-Pay attention to your senses: What are you seeing? Smelling? Hearing? Tasting? Touching?

-Lay down flat on the floor, put your hands over your belly, and slowly take breaths in and out (make sure when you breathe in your belly inflates and when you breathe out that it deflates)

-Go on a walk

-Engage in a safe relationship

-Stretch

-Develop a mantra of soothing self-talk 

-Scan your body- slowly scan from the top of your head to the tips of your toes, with each section-acknowledge what you notice, breathe deeply several rounds, and then move to the next section.

Be mindful, lead with love, and don’t forget to listen. 

Dr. C

Think About How You Think

A common part of therapy is identifying how we think. Exploring our thoughts helps to identify patterns that may be problematic and adding to symptoms of conditions such as anxiety and depression. Doing this sort of exploration is often eye-opening, as it can reveal the framework our mind applies to the things we experience. Often these frameworks are distorted but feel real and accurate to us nonetheless.

For example, a common problematic thought pattern is referred to as dichotomous or “black-and-white” thinking. This pattern is rigid, and assigns things into two categories such as good/bad, yes/no, right/wrong, all/nothing. They are called problematic or distorted because they are riddled with mistakes. Take black-and-white thinking- if we only look at things through that lens-we completely miss any compromising, middle ground, or duality. Problematic thought patterns not only increase anxiety and depressive symptoms, they also make it more difficult to cope/regulate through distressing emotions.

While this sort of identification of thought patterns is common in therapy modalities that are cognitive focused, the conversation goes a bit deeper when working through an attachment-informed approach. When I am working with clients, not only do I focus on identifying problematic thought patterns; I also focus on identifying the relationships that influenced them.

You see, the meaningful relationships in our lives influence how our brains perceive things. For instance, if we grew up with a caregiver that was very black-and-white in their thinking, we can find ourselves also adopting that strategy. Thought patters are learned in the brain overtime, and they will feel natural and automatic. It isn’t until we step back, reflect, and examine how we think, that we can identify where distortions show up. Often these thought patterns also align with how we felt our emotions were handled by our caregivers. Did you grow up with some emotions being labeled as good and others as bad? Did you have a caregiver that ignored the details/context to your emotions and instead responded with a “this is right and that is wrong” mentality? Our thought patterns not only influence how we think, they influence how we feel, and how we respond to both ourselves and to others!

Similar to attachment styles, our thought patterns are also capable of change with consistent investment and effort. Today I invite you to sit with this black-and-white thinking example a bit more. Is this something you can relate to? Here are some reflective prompts to support diving in a little deeper!

How did my caregiver(s) respond to my emotions?

Did I agree with how my caregiver(s) responded to my emotions?

What did my caregiver(s) misunderstand or fail to see in my times of distress?

When I experience more distressing feelings, like anxiety or depression-do I apply this pattern? (right/wrong, all/nothing, good/bad, yes/no)

How does black-and-white thinking influence my relationship with others?

How does black-and-white thinking influence how I respond to my own emotions?

Be mindful, lead with love, and don’t forget to listen.

Dr. C

Do you have a relationship with your mental health?

As a clinical psychologist, I can appreciate how the internet/social media has aided in increasing awareness and knowledge of mental health. With a quick search, you can learn about symptoms, diagnoses, and treatment plans for any mental health condition. While this is great, it isn’t sufficient and often gets in the way of what is most important in my opinion.

And what is my opinion exactly? That- understanding, identifying, and labeling how we feel, think, and behave is only a part of taking care of our mental health. Another part, (which I am biased to believe is the most important part); is establishing a relationship with our mental health. Pause here-have you ever asked yourself that question? “What is my relationship with my mental health?”

In the midst of information overload, I often see high levels of intellectualization of mental health content and deficits in the development of a personalized relationship. Clients, people in my personal life, as well as myself (yes, me too- spoiler-a PhD does not make your void of being a human) can fall into this trap. We can have so many facts and terms regarding mental health and still carry very high levels of avoidance and suppression with our emotions. It’s one thing to rattle off diagnoses and symptoms, it’s a whole other thing to know them for yourself intimately.

My background is rooted strongly in attachment. I fiercely believe that our mental health is a direct reflection of the relationships in our lives, including; our relationship with others and our relationship with ourself. Part of that relationship with the self-is the relationship we each have with our emotions. Our attachments from childhood often are the blueprint for this relationship. How we were responded to by our caregivers is the very data our nervous system uses to learn overtime how we respond to ourself. This is fascinating and at the same time can be overwhelming to untangle.

Back to the question at hand: “Do you have a relationship with your mental health?” Maybe, maybe not. Either way-I invite you to engage in a reflective exercise (come on, give it a try). Think about the range of emotions we can experience and pick a few (perhaps anger, sadness, fear, and embarrassment).

Spend some time with each one and reflect on these questions:

What do I feel when this emotion comes up?

How do I respond to this emotion?

Is this an emotion I suppress?

How does this emotion make me feel about myself?

Be mindful, lead with love, & don’t forget to listen.

Dr. Cunningham