Micro-trauma

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Recently, my wife discovered that our teenager's playlists were seasoned with explicit music and asked if I could have a chat with her. I can't say I was delighted, but I accepted the challenge. Then, I remembered facing off with my own parents over this very issue and hesitated. As a teen, I defended my music as a coping mechanism that didn't leave any lasting scars and highlighted that high school sounded just like it. I wasn't entirely wrong, but as a parent, I had to think it through a little more.

As I thought through the situation, the term "micro-trauma" came to mind. A quick search revealed it refers to subtly hurtful interactions like the cold shoulder, offhanded insults, or being interrupted. The suggested remedy is to cry 'foul' - call it out, nip it in the bud, and seek professional help if prolonged exposure makes it necessary.

My mind wandered further down this path and other memories surfaced - reading graphic historical accounts of torture at an impressionable age, an obsession with books on the holocaust in college, years tuned into fear-mongering talk radio, and an insatiable appetite for the news.

None of these activities are inherently bad and I could defend them with logic akin to my teenage self’s defense of explicit music: no harm done in the long run and staying informed is important. But with the micro-trauma concept playing in my mind, I had to wonder if there wasn’t a cumulative effect that influenced my emotional state and view of the world. And could it even have played a part in my compulsive behaviors by contributing to the anxiety and pain I was running from?

In recent years, I've grappled with the realization that I approach the world from a position of fear, assuming the worst, easily becoming alarmed, experiencing frequent nightmares, and avoiding opportunities that make me nervous but shouldn't. And of course, I tend to easily lose hope and cope in unhealthy ways. While larger traumas explain some of this, I couldn't help but wonder if accumulated micro-trauma played a role.

The conversation with my daughter is looming. Her ability to consider her seemingly distant future is limited by her age, so I think I'm going to approach it from the 'I' and talk about how I've decided to cry 'foul' - limit my consumption of influences that may negatively impact my outlook and consider bringing it up with a professional. Something makes me think it's going to pay dividends and brings on a smile.

What next?

  • Assess your interactions with other people for micro-trauma.

  • Evaluate your life for accumulating influences that might be stealing your joy.

  • Find remedies for what you discover and enjoy a brighter outlook.

By Ty, Writing Team

The Insanity Solo Cycle

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In a scripture study this week at church the conversation of how to deal with negative emotions came up.

The answers:

Read scriptures. Say prayers. Journal. Sing a song didn’t come up but has in previous discussions.

These are all really good things. But why do we often go to solving problems on our own?

Trying to go it alone is the largest stumbling block ah-ha I’ve had as I’ve worked on my own recovery and with others on their path.

What if a trauma wound is with religion and God? The answers above may be more rage inducing than comforting.

It is like a truck with bald tires stuck in the snow. More effort just digs the tires deeper until the bottom of the truck is resting on the snow and the tires just spin and spin until the engine overheats or runs out of gas.

Forward movement is only possible when the snow and ice thaw and the mud dries up - assuming your truck is now not stuck in the hardened mud!

The greatest tool our enemy has is to keep us trying to “git-‘r-done” on our own. I live and die emotionally, mentally, and spiritually based on how much I’m reaching out to others. It sounds overly simplistic. It also seems complicated.

“What if others judge me?”

“I’ve tried it before, but it doesn't work.”

This is what Steven chased after me about in the bonus content of my UU podcast episode for our Outsiders.

For me I just kept on doing it. Over and over again. Look, addiction taught me how to be repetitive really well. I might as well use that repetition for good, right?

It was painful in the beginning. It was almost all one-sided for a while. I found out I reached out to the wrong people at first- others stuck too but who enjoyed hearing their engine rev as their truck sunk deeper still.

But over time I’ve gotten my crew together. Over time others reach out to me first.

And my life is soooo much better.

Life is a beautiful thing with heart aches and hard lessons, but I know God loves me and I know the names of many who love me. And when I’m feeling down and out, y’all lift me up.

What next

  • What are you willing to do differently?

  • Spend time each morning connecting to God with two questions: “how do You see me?” and “who can I reach out to?

  • Look for people whose truck isn’t stuck in the mud. There are many who have overcome adversity in life, seek them.

By Pete, Writing Team

Defying Gravity

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This past week I had another church leader call and ask for help. Same guys coming to him regularly to confess relapsing with pornography and acting out. They are trying to figure it out on their own but seeking little success. The wives are hurt but don’t want to leave. What should he be doing differently?

I liken it to the point in my life when I was similarly stuck: sitting in a poopy diaper. The diaper didn’t get better, but I got comfortably numb to the smell, discomfort, and shame of it. I’d try to overpower the smell with a pose that all is well, “no trouble in this household”, “nothing to see here” … white shirt and tie guy at church whilst sitting in that stinky damp diaper in the gutters of the internet week after week.

Before I disclosed what was going on, my wife knew well there was a problem, but she didn’t know what the problem was. I imagine my kids and coworkers could smell something was off but it didn’t have a name. For me, secrecy was every bit as damming as the addiction itself.

I tried everything. Therapists. 12 Step meetings in many different groups. Sheer will power. Working out. Rigorous schedule. Perfectionism.

Caught in a transactional relationship with God, I would try to do enough good things to not feel like a bad person, but could never stay ahead on the interest payments, let alone all the debt I had accumulated in the secret agreement I had with the wrong god.

Okay, so I didn’t try everything. I didn’t want anyone close to me to know. Aside from my own periodic confessions on a Sunday where I downplayed the amount of time spent in a relapse and number of times of what acting out looked out, except my wife and therapist, and pastor, I didn’t want anyone else to know.

I felt like the Millennial Falcon in the Star Wars movie, stuck in the powerful tractor beam of the Death Star of addiction. At full power, the ship rocked and shook, but closer and closer I came to the seeming impending doom and it left me more exhausted and hopeless.

I broke down and got a sponsor. He told me to get a group of friends. Not casual interactions with guys I could head-nod to occasionally, but the kind I run up to and hug. Someone who would bail me out of jail.

Another sponsor made it a requirement that I reach out to three guys a day. I only knew two. I started attending different meetings and my contact list grew larger, but only via text and phone.

I got to a bootcamp and realized I didn’t know The True God and His Son. A loving Dad who can’t wait to hear from me. Who loves me no matter what. An older Brother who purchased me and makes up all the difference when I confess to Him and let Him take my sins. During the short vows of silence I began talking to Him, feeling His Love, and crying out for help. During the socializing times I took down numbers and shared my story and listened as others shared theirs.

The cross means so much to me in many ways. When it comes to reaching out, the physical appearance of the cross reminds me my feet need to be firmly rooted, my head looking up to Heaven from where salvation comes. And my arms need to reach out to others.

God breaks me free from the gravity of addiction to a much higher power - LOVE.

It’s mental and emotional physics. I can’t move away from something if the new thing I want doesn’t have enough critical mass to keep pulling me out of my old orbit.

One of my favorite traditions of AA: “Keep coming back. It works if you work it. So work it because you are worth it!”

And your family is worth it. Cleaning up the diaper and not getting back into a new one takes effort and time. It takes a lot of surrender.

So my answer to the church leader who reached out: gotta have people who have overcome the addiction speak openly about their struggles and path back to God and brotherhood. Removing shame is a huge step towards releasing the grip addiction has in its secret combinations and agreements that I’m not worth saving.

People ask me why I’m so gung ho on Bootcamps. Three days surrounded by people who are unashamed and unafraid, focusing on my relationship with God is a REALLY powerful pull in the right direction. After decades of rinse and repeat repentance and relapse, I need to have clear headspace and to feel unconditionally loved for a few days to receive revelation and a respite from the lone and dreary world of isolation.

We are six or so weeks into the New Year - if all else has failed in your resolutions, I invite you to a good place of connection and reaching out. It’s scary at first. People won’t accept you or trust you immediately. It may take time.

But it is worth it! I dare you to defy your gravity.

What Next?

  • Are you stuck in this cycle? Who can you reach out to and share what you are going through? Have no one? Reach out to this group. Get to a bootcamp or other retreat and get some mental space to feel God’s love and connect with others.

  • How many brothers (for women, sisters) do you have who love you unconditionally? I spent many months and years praying people into my life and can strongly recommend you do the same.

  • How’s your relationship with God? Do you feel unconditionally loved? Take courage and kneel down and ask Him “Do You love me Dad?” Stay quiet and feel. Allow Him space. Surrender to Him daily.

By Pete, Writing Team