Skip to main content

THE INVISIBLE COST OF TRAUMA AND WHY IT IS HARD TO SEE

Every day I look out of my back door and stare at two beautiful Pine trees. Those who don't know their histories see two well-formed plants that cast shadows, clean air and house neighborhood critters. I, on the other hand, see missed opportunities.

Only after looking at what was lost among those trees could I begin to conceptualize how much good has been removed from the human experience due to trauma.

I bought my home in 2006 and can assure you that the two Pine trees were planted and transplanted at the same time; they were nurtured (or not) by me in the same amounts. Both trees grew at the same pace for about nine years. Over a year ago there was a huge snow storm that toppled the Pine tree on the left. I tied it back up hoping it wouldn't die. Sure enough, the Pine tree was resilient and survived. In fact, if you were to look at it today you would not know that it once fell over and looks like a model Pine tree.

People often see survivors of trauma after they have begun the healing processjust like my Pine treethey look like nothing ever happened to them, and because of that, as a society we fail to see how much energy and resources it takes to heal from trauma; that the investment in healing is valuable and necessary, and the immense cost to the individual and to society of that trauma. So we take the easiest path-we divest from healing systems, we don't bother investing in cultural changes that reduce trauma and blame victims of trauma for their own trauma, hoping they would just heal themselves and move on without disrupting our lives and inconveniencing us.

...but I look at those trees. I know that had I originally invested $20.00 in supports, the Pine tree would not have fallen, I know that I shouldn't have assumed that it would do just fine with the same amount of resources as the un-fallen tree  and I know for a fact that had it not experienced that trauma it would have been over one foot taller than it currently is. By not taking trauma seriously, I am deprived of about one or more extra foot of air cleaning power and on the aesthetic level, two matching trees.

Trauma takes away possibilities from us. A victim of trauma heals like most organic things, and because of that we often fail to see what we miss out on because of energy that had to be redirected towards healing. If I didn't have the tree to the right to compare it to, like everyone else, I would have assumed that the tree recovered just fine through sheer resilience. It is resilience that allowed the tree to heal, but it is the absence of trauma that would have allowed it to grow taller than it currently is. The tree isn't "damaged," like most humans, it has limited resources and those resources were used to repair the damage caused by the storm rather than into growing taller. I guess we never miss what was never there, but can you just imagine how much better our world would be if we were to eliminate trauma?

Comments

Anonymous said…
Excellent insight. Sad that many, to many don't look deeper into that invisible cost of trauma. Thank you for trying to shed some light . . .

Popular posts from this blog

I CAN'T PASS JUDGMENT ANYMORE

I know all of my friends are loving the ease and convenience of carrying books around on a Kindle, or whatever the gadget of the day is, but this move to electronic reading is really affecting my ability to judge others, yes, you heard me right-judging others is now difficult. It used to be that I could sit on the train and just by watching book covers, and their respective readers, I would get an idea of what books I might like. Now, everyone has a kindle and I can't really derive reading recommendations without appearing to be a stalker. But worse than that, new friendships are severely affected. I used to be able to walk into someone's house and look at their bookcase and know whether I should run the other way-now, the non-visibility of books makes identifying incompatibility so much more difficult. For example, if someone were to walk into my house, this is what they might see:   You would be correct in making quite a few assumptions about me based on this random

PUBLIC TRANSPORTATION: AMERICAN FLAVORED APARTHEID

I remember being a young adult and cramming into a van with 26 other people: this van was designed to hold only nine. Had I been wealthier, I could have gotten on a nicer and safer bus, but I was not wealthy and had to get home ASAP. I hated my country for things like that and loved America because America had nice buses, no overcrowded bus. I had been on American buses and trains while on vacation and they felt glamorous compared to what I had to get on on a regular basis. Years later, I would move to America. I would depend on public transportation to get to work, school and leisure. I lived at the border between a wealthy area and modest one, lucky enough to have been assigned to the wealthier neighborhood's school system. It turns out, PT in America was not that glamorous. The fleets were nicer, but the routes and expense couldn't get me to where I WANTED to be. They were good enough to get me to where OTHERS wanted me to be. I have since moved around and lived all ov