+INSECURE ATTACHMENT: WHY I WORRY ABOUT WORRYING

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It’s 7 a.m. now, and I’ve been waiting since 2 this morning for the sun to rise.  Silly me.  My waiting doesn’t make the sun come up one second earlier than it will otherwise.

Maybe my waiting is connected to my worrying, the same worrying that no doubt got me up out of bed so early this morning.  I have a whole palette of things to worry about, yet worry itself seems like such a complete waste of time.

Because I already know that my insecure attachment pattern-disorder to and in the world forms the bedrock of EVERYTHING about me, I have cause to wonder this morning what the connection might be between ‘attachment’ and worry.  Let’s see:

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Expectation and Attachment – The Anti Buddha Consciousness of Anxiety, Fear and Worry

By Glen Russell

Expectation and attachment are the worst enemies of man. These two simple words keep humanity trapped in a place of anxiety, fear and worry. Fear can only exist if you have an expectation and an emotional attachment to an outcome either happening or not happening.

In Earth society expectation and attachments are actively promoted and humanity is encouraged to adopt these as part of its psyche. Humanity is conditioned to chase after this and to chase after that. Humanity is conditioned to form emotional attachments to many different things. Yet the cost is great.

The cost is humanity suffers and its inner peace is now gone. Whenever you “expect” an outcome to happen or not happen – and it either does happen, or doesn’t happen, or doesn’t happen quickly enough, anxiety, fear and worry is created within your mental body and your emotional body. You then feel disappointment, anger, frustration, inner turmoil and suffering. Your inner peace is now gone.

It is not the outcome that stole your peace – it is your decision to have expectations and emotional attachments to a specific outcome that stole your inner peace.”  (Click on above link to read the rest of this article)

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My “inner peace,” huh?  Severe early infant-child abuse survivors are not likely to have had any ‘inner peace’ built into them in the first place.  Can we find it NOW?  Infants don’t ‘decide’ to expect their early caregivers to do exactly THAT – take care of them!

Yet as I think about all the things I can find to worry about in the middle of the night (and in the middle of the day), I realize that every one of those worries is fundamentally about TAKING CARE OF SOMETHING, OR HAVING SOMETHING I WORRY ABOUT INVOLVE TAKING CARE OF MYSELF OR SOMEONE ELSE I CARE ABOUT.

“Where do I get the money I need to pay my heat bill?  How do I get rid of those ugly finger-sized “C” shaped grubs lying in wait in my soil to eat every root of every living plant I cherish in my garden?  How do I baby proof my house before my very very active 9-month-old grandson comes with his mommy to visit the first week of January?  Why don’t I want to do a single dang thing for Christmas and will that make my children upset with me?  How do I build yet ANOTHER stretch of fence to keep my stupid neighbors’ stupid rampaging buffalo dogs out of my yard?  When I go to my early January oncologist appointment will they find my cancer is back?  Etc.”

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Perceived attachment: relations to anxiety sensitivity, worry, and GAD symptoms.

Viana AG, Rabian B.

This investigation examined the relation between perceived alienation from parents and peers, anxiety sensitivity (AS), and current worry and generalized anxiety disorder (GAD) symptoms with the goal of expanding the knowledge base on factors that may contribute to the development of AS and its role in worry.”

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Worry and Coping:  An Attachment Perspective

By Colleen J. Allison

Attachment anxiety…associated with the tendency to worry.”

(Contains excellent references for further reading)

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Fostering Healthy Attachment
An Interview with Dr. Karen Walant

Creating the Capacity for Attachment looks at how we, as a society, have raised our children with the expectation that they become totally self-reliant and autonomous rather than with the hope that they have the capacity to form close, loving, intimate relationships with others.”

“This unhealthy pattern of reliance on objects is encouraged in the detached parenting styles so common in Western society, and it’s easy to see how, from this tendency, as adults we continue to seek comfort in other non-human objects, such as drugs, food, money, etc.

Very early on, children are generally taught not to disclose to others when feeling “weak” or scared, “needy” or alone. Many of the emotions we felt in childhood – what people call the “negative” emotions – we were taught not to share. So, we sought comfort from blankets, pacifiers, and teddy bears, and we learned not to seek comfort from our mothers, our fathers, our family. As we got too old for blankets and teddy bears, we turned instead to other comforts – food, alcohol, money, etc. As adults, we struggle with holding our emotions within because we fear that by sharing our inner souls with others, we will – as in childhood – be discounted, dismissed, or denied.”

Many people spend their lives feeling like nobody hears their cries – they feel alone, afraid, and powerless. When children are not responded to, in their earliest and most primary relationships, they learn that their thoughts and feelings are burdensome to others and that their needs are shameful. As adults, these same people often go underground with their feelings and seek comfort in substances. Or, alternately, these same people become so vocal in their neediness that, again, they are met with disdain from others and go on to find comfort, as well, in non-human substances.”

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OK, I get it – yet again.  Worrying about the fact that I worry is just another piece of my insecure attachment puzzle.  Dropping the worry bundle and looking at myself instead as a whole person living in and with a body that was altered in its development due to terrible trauma as I grew this body in the first place allows me to look up at the brightening skyline with hopes that today I will heal some part of myself rather than worrying that I won’t.

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+RISK AND COMPASSION (5 DEAD PUPPIES AND A HEADLESS FROG)

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While I have not spent time sitting down to further contemplate the amazing attachment-compassion article I posted the link to earlier (Attachment, Caregiving, and Altruism:  Boosting Attachment Security Increases Compassion and Helping), I haven’t stopped thinking about it.  Because ‘exploration’ really describes our entire LIFE actions, I believe it is the end-product of the quality of early attachment patterns that build our body-brain.  This article also clearly describes how our ability to feel compassion and empathy, and to ACT response-ably with the information we receive in relationship with all of life — and in some small way this post is about that compassion.

(I add a WARNING to this post that it contains descriptions that might be difficult for some people to read!)

Yesterday I received transportation to a doctor’s appointment for a bone density scan from a medical agency.  The driver, I will call him Fred, was a 73 year old man who talked about himself on that 75-mile round trip.

As I sat down to write this post I realized that for all the difficulties I have been describing recently about my inability to process verbal information when I am under stress/distress/duress, when I feel OK (as per the article noted above) I have a GIFTED ability to listen to what I will call ‘genuine people’ who are speaking from their heart.

After some of these kinds of conversations I later wonder why I didn’t respond with ‘this or that’, yet I realize that it is often another person’s NEED to simply speak and receive the listening I have to offer.

We were traveling in the medical transport van past the low-lying hills that crop up at the tail end of a line of higher mountains along the highway.  Perhaps there was something about Fred’s gazing along the rising hills that reminded him about what he spoke of next.

Fred told me that from childhood hunting had been an important part of his life.  He told me that among his many truck driving jobs he drove for a cement mixer company.  One day (I think about 20 years ago) as he was delivering a load out to a house in the desert he was gazing along the road to the right and then as he turned his head to the left he saw them coming.

Out of the desert shrubbery right at the edge of the highway appeared in a line five pure white puppies heading straight out in front of him.  He told me there was no possible way he could swerve that massive loaded truck to miss them, and sure enough, ‘thunk, thunk, thunk, thunk, thunk’ he heard the sound of each of them being crushed to death under the wheels of the truck he was driving.

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As the writers of the above article describe compassion, it was evident to me as this man who had been a complete stranger to me when he picked me up at my house for medical transport must have had the need to express to SOMEONE the fact that he has never hunted again since that day.  As he told me all of this tears were streaming down his face.  He said he sold his $8,000 gun collection to his son for $1,000, having kept for his own possible need only one handgun.

I wondered to myself if this man could ever possibly shoot another person even under the most extreme circumstances.  Then I thought perhaps he could do so if his beloved wife was threatened.  At the same time I marveled at Fred’s wide-open expression of absolute sorrow for his actions the day he killed those five pure white puppies.

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Now, my next image — not a pretty one at first glance but an important one to me nonetheless…..

I shed my town clothes as soon as I arrived home around noon yesterday and put on my work clothes to go outside and work on my adobe garden.  I am preparing an adobe walkway that runs along the western line of my back yard, along the new tall metal fence I just built where it runs along behind the big ‘berm’ I built to kill those ancient monster oleander bushes.

The desert soil here is now extremely dry and hard and cannot be dug into unless it is first thoroughly soaked with water.  In preparation for this next extension of my adobe work I laid the gray water hose from my outside-perched washing machine along the fence the other day and let that water do its work so I could follow with mine.

I am well aware that there are parts of my yard that I am digging into now that include soil that has never been dug into since time began making it millions of years ago.  Even though I live in a small town, there is something profound for me in knowing that.

As I dug into an area of dark red clay (normally hard as cement when dry) I began to find ‘stored’ frogs sleeping.  One by one as I dumped a load of soil off of my shovel and found these tiny guests in my yard I picked them up quickly and cupped them gently in my stiff black plastic work gloves so I could move them as fast as possible over to one of my damp, soft compost areas in my garden.

As I carried them each I talked to them, thanking them for being, and for being here.  I apologized for bothering them, and wished them a long happy winter sleeping now in a safer place where they will not be further disturbed by my digging.  (My compost areas are covered with layers of leaves I have raked up in town and hauled out here, and are being kept moist through a drip irrigation set-up I have carefully installed in each bed full of worms.)

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As I dug along the fence yesterday I began to hear myself telling me that the odds were pretty dang good that one of the times I stuck my shovel edge into that red clay I would sooner or later accidentally kill a frog.  I thought about Fred and his story about the five puppies.  I told myself to prepare myself for this possibility.

Five dug-up frogs later it happened, I am very sad to say.  I saw the little frogs movements within the dirt on the end of my shovel and yet again reached for its little body to save it.  Oh, dear! —

Now I only  tell you this because there is something here I believe is important (again, what opportunities all traumas offer us for learning something new in a new and different way — if we can).

That little frog a-wiggling its body was upside-down in the loosened dark red dirt on my shovel.  I could tell it was trying by flailing its little legs to right itself, to turn itself right-side up — to right itself, to restore its ‘normal orientation’.  So I reached to help it, gently moving the dirt from around its body — at the same time I realized — Oh, dear! — that the tiny little being was missing its head.

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Of course I will always feel bad when I think of this, just like Fred does about those puppies.  I wondered this morning about both Fred and myself, and about self-compassion and forgiveness — and about whether or not we can ever release ourselves from the feelings we have if we hurt another life in some way.

I don’t know.

But what came to me about the frog reminds me of the writings on healing our woundedness from trauma that Diana Fosha writes about in regards to attachment.  I remember that she says every living being knows exactly how to heal itself — given a possible chance.  She says that human attachment-related body-brain wiring remains in existence in us from before we were born — no matter how traumatized we were later by our earliest caregiver interactions of trauma, neglect and abuse.

Fosha says we all know HOW TO RIGHT OUR SELF INSTINCTIVELY in the same way we can all look at a picture hanging askew on a wall and INSTANTLY know which way to move it to RIGHT it — to make it RIGHT.

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One of the things that strikes me about the headless frog was that EVEN WITHOUT ITS HEAD its BODY absolutely knew that it was upside down.  Its body knew exactly what to do to make its body RIGHT by taking body actions to turn itself over.

Yes, this is all unsettling — and perhaps a bit preposterous in what I am concluding from my strange line of experience yesterday.  There seems to be something about the words Fred spoke to me yesterday — and something about his obvious caring emotional compassionate nonverbal expressions — that primed me for what happened as I dug in my backyard.

It seems very likely to me that we all know instinctively IN OUR BODY exactly what we need so that we can heal.  In our culture, what we learn IN OUR BRAIN-thoughts is probably likely to interfere with what we actually need to do for ourselves to heal.  How do we listen to our own BODY as it tells us what it remembers both about all that has happened to us AT THE SAME TIME it can tell us what it needs so that it can heal?

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I am going back out today to work some more on that walk way — at the same time I don’t really know how to miss harming another little friend-frog as I do so.  Digging just carries that risk — and I can not set aside the softness I feel for those frogs even though I am going to run the risk of a repeat from yesterday.  I will be as care-full as I can at the same time I know that living carries risk — for all of us.  And sometimes it carries healing.

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+LINK TO ARTICLE ON ATTACHMENT, COMPASSION AND ALTRUISM

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I found an excellent, very informative article (2005) online today as I was searching for the ‘difference between empathy and compassion’ as they relate to attachment.  The article represents the thoughts of an Israeli and three American researchers, and is titled:

Attachment, Caregiving, and Altruism:  Boosting Attachment Security Increases Compassion and Helping.

These researchers use the attachment measures for amounts of anxiety about attachment and avoidance of attachment.  Anxiety and avoidance are found in the insecure attachment patterns – and are absent in the secure attachment patterns.

This article takes some thoughtful time to read, but is well worth the investment.  There is a lot of information here, and as I read it I could place people I know and have known along the dimensions the authors describe as I realized that people FIT PATTERNS of attachment that then makes them very much like one another depending on these pattern types.

I am too tired at the moment to say anything more right now, but I hope you follow the above link and take a look at this article.  I hope to spend some more time taking notes in a few days as I process the information this article contains.

Depending on the variety of early caregivers around us that we could form attachments to — or not — our body-brain development was set down a course before we were one year old along the attachment pattern dimensions this article describes.

Once we reach adulthood these patterns, built right into our physiology, can be extremely difficult to change.  I believe that for the most part people with the avoidant dimensions of insecure attachment live their lives in such a way that they can appear cold and self-absorbed and don’t seem to even know it, let alone care.  On the other hand, people with the anxiety related insecure attachment patterns are far more likely to KNOW there is something wrong so they are most commonly the people who might identify their problems so that they can find new ways to relate to others.

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+INTERGENERATIONAL TRAUMA: ITS TRANSMISSION AND ITS HEALING

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It is important for me to understand the reality of my own words.  If I wish to write about the intergenerational transmission of unresolved trauma – most usually through abuse and neglect of offspring (as well as through the epigenetic transmission of trauma-caused genetic changes) I have to know where my own limitations are.

Through my recent thought processes about writing a book I am coming to understand that it will most probably be my daughter who will need to ‘step up to the plate’ and accomplish that task.  I have presented the idea to her very clearly and in her very busy schedule at present, she is considering my request.

I know that I more than cringe at the thought of relegating the lifelong consequences for infant-children who are/were raised under the burden of active transmission of intergenerational trauma through abuse to the professional categories of ‘mental illness diagnostic categories’.  As a very severe infant-abuse survivor I now understand that my entire physiological development was altered through trauma exposure, I now understand that I am NOT ill I am simply different from those who were raised in the ‘pampered’ worlds of love, safety, security and supportive attachments to caregivers.

It is my job from the place I hold in the generation chain of my family to understand as fully as I can what happened to me that changed me, what those changes are, what living with those changes is like, and how learning new information about what ALL of this means will contribute to all of the positive changes I seek.

As I define how my language development, along with its social-emotional body-brain developmental channels has been changed through trauma, I realize that I do not speak the common language of ‘the masses’ and I never will.  I realize that this limits my ability to write a book that will accomplish the goals I hope for.

As I understand that ‘mental illness’ is NOT what about I am coming to recognize that a sociological rather than a psychological or psychiatric perspective would be the most accurate frame of reference for every word a book about my topic needs.  My daughter is a professional sociologist, and is also a professional researcher, interviewer and writer.  She is also has a gift for language.

Looking back as far as I can at the chain of my family’s history that directly impacted the severe abuse trauma I experienced I can point vaguely to my mother’s grandmother, more clearly at my mother’s mother, VERY clearly at my own mother, most clearly at myself, and from there I see my daughter who now has her first child, my first grandchild.

It is HER perspective as the survivor of being MY daughter that matters to me most, and from there it matters to me how what my daughter knows is impacting the raising of her children (which of course also involves her husband).

In recognizing my limitations I am understanding that I AM NOT THE BRIDGE.  I have continued to work as hard as I possibly can ALL OF MY LIFE at surviving as a trauma altered individual to the best of my ability.  I have massive amounts of information, and through a very tailored interview process that my daughter can orchestrate and accomplish, I can transmit that information to HER — and she can write ‘the book’.

I can never physiologically take my feet out of the burning building that represents what is left of the edifice of intergenerational transmission of trauma that came to me through my father.  My daughter has some ‘smoke inhalation’ problems from being raised as my daughter (mostly due to my depression at the time she was born that altered my patterns of interactions with her).  But I did not abuse my children (with one exception noted), and there is NO WAY in the known or unknown universe that my grandchildren will EVER be abused in any possible way.

With every fiber of my being I hope that my daughter decides to undertake this mission I ask of her.  For all my recurring discouragement that overtakes me at times because the more I understand my story the more I realize that it was so unique in its trauma that probably very, very few people can truly relate to or find anything useful in what I have to say, the more I realize that THIS FACT IS EXACTLY WHAT WOULD MAKE THE TELLING OF MY STORY a BEST SELLER.

If there is anyone on earth that can find a helpful common threat between what I have experienced (and what I know about the consequences of those experiences) so that something can come out of the ‘fire’, be polished and perfected, and then passed onto others in the form of useful information for their betterment, it is my daughter.

I cannot consider any part of my story without fully understanding that it was the job of the society I was born into to rescue and protect me.  My story exists as it does because my society failed me as much as my mother and father (and grandmother) did.

That ‘arm’ of intergenerational trauma transmission HAS to be addressed head-on, and as far as I can tell that is a sociological issue.  My daughter can do that, also.

In addition, translating the language I know as a society of one into the language of the many is also a job I cannot do, but she can.  She will also be able to address how language forms a fundamental core of society itself.

All I can do now is hope, pray and wait……..  It is her decision.  It will require great dedication — and time — and effort — on her part to help me with this vital project.  Nothing on this earth would make me feel happier than for her to decide “Yes.”

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+WORDS DO NOT MEAN SOCIAL CONNECTION TO ME – THEY ARE OBJECT-TOOLS-WEAPONS

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I know I better write a post right now before I head out to do some serious adobe work in my garden today because if I don’t track the process of my thinking at this moment I know I will soon make such a quantum leap in what I know about myself, my trauma altered development that happened because of the severe infant-child abuse I experienced, dissociation and my language development that I will never be able to go back and track how my conclusions about the connections between all these vitally important topics actually arrived.

As I ‘play around with’ the experiences I had last week with the medical clinic, and as I anticipate the medically-related appointments that I am going to have to go through in the near future, and as I sift through the facts of MY experience to gain information about what happened last week I am finding myself headed straight for some amazing discoveries.

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Much of what I experience as dissociation when I am engaged in a stressful situation with people who actually escalate my stress response rather than sooth it — dissociation that includes an inability to hear spoken language, to process verbal information or to even THINK in words (the blank state) — is directly related to the way my physiological development was affected by severe trauma from birth.

The trauma that matters most to me as I consider the consequences of it that I live with DAILY at age 59 happened from birth to age two.  I have focused much of my writing so far on this blog on the critically important right-limbic-social-emotional brain development that happens directly through early attachment relationships with caregivers.

I have to move forward now in my thinking to age two.

While there are specific developmental stages and milestones that happen during this second year of life, the one I want to look at right now has to do with the continuation of the development of LANGUAGE.

An infant begins its breathing life with the ability to send and receive signals in the form of PREVERBAL communication.  All ‘attachment’ interactions with early caregivers happen on the level (from the infant’s point of view) of this PREVERBAL communication.

An infant’s caregiver is also using NONVERBAL and VERBAL communication signals with the infant.  As the infant’s body-nervous system-brain grows and develops, its physiology has been built by the PATTERNS of the earliest (attachment) interactions.  These patterns literally tell the DNA and the cells of the infant’s body WHAT TO DO.

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As an infant moves toward the acquisition of WORDS and the ability to understand and use them, it uses ALL the patterns that have been built into it as ‘traffic flow channels’ for its growing abilities to communicate.

If everything the infant has experienced has happened in an extremely traumatic, abusive, neglectful environment of malevolence, chaos, unpredictability and NONEXISTENT contact between the infant’s SELF and its caregiver, the infant’s ENTIRE REPERTOIRE INVOLVING VERBAL LANGUAGE HAS ALREADY BEEN SENT DOWN A COMPLETELY DIFFERENT PATHWAY than the kind a safely and securely attached infant’s has.

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‘Ordinary people’ are familiar with part of what I wish to describe if they think about trying to communicate with a police official after a serious car accident, or if they think about how words failed them in an important interview, or failed them at the moment they received a cancer diagnosis.

This tells me that the ‘dissociatable’ regions of the human brain that can separate emotional experience from verbal articulation (both spoken and in thinking abilities) is perfectly POSSIBLE for everyone.

What happens to me is that I experience these changes in how words include themselves in my ongoing experience at times that ‘ordinary people’ would NEVER experience.  That is the difference between how I operate and how they do — not that ‘I dissociate words from my experience’ and they do not.

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Researchers know that a ‘bad mother rat’ is a nervous, over amped-stress response rat who will NOT LICK HER OFFSPRING like a safely and securely NON stressed mother rat will.

Researchers also know that if they switch offspring between a high licking rat mother and a low licking mother (meaning highly stressed and nonstressed), the offspring RAISED by either of these types of mothers will build into their developing physiology the corresponding high or low stress level responses.

Researchers now know that the degree of stressed-out response in the offspring is NOT due to genetics.  It is due to the ability an offspring’s body has to alter its physiological development in direct response to the nature of the environment is is formed by and in.

In human terms we can translate this very basic fact into what happens to infants raised in secure, safe, loving, appropriate, adequate MOTHER-early caregiving environments versus those who are raised in opposite conditions.

Severe infant abuse and neglect constitutes a LOW LICKING environment — which is the same as a HIGH STRESS environment.

Most simply put, there is NO POSSIBLE WAY THAT THESE CONTRASTS IN ENVIRONMENTS COULD NOT AFFECT AN INFANT’S LANGUAGE DEVELOPMENT.

The stages of preverbal to nonverbal to verbal development are directly affected by the level of stress and trauma present or absent from an infant’s universe during its most critical windows of early physiological development.

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Now, to switch thinking tracks:  There are language development experts who look back over the word-utilizing history of the human species who see in our verbal-language development a pattern that suggests the following.

Many other living creatures (bats and primates included) have the same gene that humans eventually made use of to develop our ability to TALK.

This is the FOXP2 gene.

Researchers believe that it was ONLY about 140,000 years ago that this gene was activated in humans so that it could directly alter the development of our brain AND OUR LARYNX so that we could begin to talk.

All the interactions that mother’s have with their offspring are part of how this ability evolves in all of us now as they are directly tied to the development of our infant body-brain in our earliest attachment caregiving universe.

Some researchers also believe that once the world became benign enough that more early humans had safety and security to spend more time sitting around socializing with one another — which amounts to GROOMING BEHAVIOR in both primates and rats.

The quality of grooming behavior in both primates and rats is used as a measurement of HIGH and LOW stress.

It is evidently very possible that humans began to utilize their FOXP2 gene simply to expand their ability to sooth, bond and communicate with one another — researchers refer to this in humans as GOSSIP — with spoken language as an advancement over gesture that could then include more people within the circle of communicative signaling — or GOSSIP.

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Human infants, as they interact with their earliest caregivers, are engaged in a mutual dance of signaling communication — sending and receiving — with their caregivers.  In abusive, neglectful, traumatic and malevolent early infant environments, the signaling DOES NOT GO ACCORDING TO OPTIMAL PLAN.

The infant’s language-communication-signaling patterns are therefore correspondingly altered within its physiological body-brain development.

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Use of signaling in patterns of listening and responding (rupture and repair) in ‘healthy’ early attachment environments are tied to the development of emotional regulation abilities in an infant’s growing right-emotional-limbic brain AT THE SAME TIME that this same brain region is also developing its SOCIAL-emotional patterns.

Because I was abused and traumatized from birth I did not participate in ‘normal or ordinary’ preverbal or nonverbal communication patterns with my caregivers.  There was no possible way that my physiology could pattern itself AS IF I had magically grown them in a safe, secure, optimal or even adequate environment.

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I therefore suggest that for every single person who has been given the so-called ‘mentally ill diagnosis of Dissociative Identity Disorder’ and that KNOWS that something was NOT OK in their early infant-caregiver interactions that DISSOCIATION as it includes the component of verbal communication with others and within our self in our thoughts HAS BEEN CHANGED right along with all our other Trauma Altered Development.

What happened to me the other day at the medical clinic has also highlighted a critically important point to me:  When I was born nobody gave a single solitary HOOT about what I needed.  They didn’t respond to me as if I existed as a human being at all.  Because all my patterns of communication included patterns of abuse and trauma, I DID NOT DEVELOP A RIGHT BRAIN THAT INCLUDES ‘NORMAL OR ORDINARY’ use of preverbal and nonverbal social-emotional cuing.

What this means to me when push comes to shove NOW is that — as a component of my nonattachment reality tied to the so-called insecure Reactive Attachment Disorder or Disorganized-Disoriented attachment disorder — is that not only can I NOT include ‘normal’ nonverbal social communication cues in MY communication to others, I cannot read the ones they send to me, either.

In the end — I DO NOT CARE ABOUT OTHER PEOPLE.  That level of signaling caring was NOT built into my infant (birth to 2) physiology during my precursory stages of verbal language ability.

Nobody cared about ME so very realistically, how could CARING possibly have been included in my language acquisition physiological patterning?  (This is part of the ’empathy disorder’ Dr. Allan Schore describes as a component of all insecure attachment disorders within the 45% of our population that has some version of one.)

Because the ability to include EMOTIONALLY relevant information and to read its signals and clues was not a part of my preverbal-nonverbal-verbal physiological development, the bottom line TO ME is that I am excluded from the highly developed human social specie’s GROOMING and GOSSIPING behavior.  I was not born into an environment that included me as a PART OF THE GROUP to be safely and securely attached to and within.

The solitary confinement and isolation I experienced due to my mother’s abuse continued to one degree or another to profoundly affect me through my entire 18 year childhood.  (No play included.)

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Language – spoken and nonverbal — not only does not work the same in my body-brain, it does not mean the same to me as it no doubt does to ‘ordinary people’, either.

Although I obviously am able to understand words themselves, I do not believe that my language abilities are wired into me in anything like a normal way when it comes to interactions with members of my species.  And who the hell else would CARE if I could talk or not?

I am an excluded-from-ordinary person, and my latest clarity of discovery is that THIS is perhaps one of the MOST IMPORTANT consequences of being raised from birth so that my development was physiologically patterned in and by trauma.

I am excluded from being truly attached in my lifetime to members of my species who developed normal and ordinary language abilities.

This does leave me to wonder if I could learn more about how I am in the world by coming to understand how language develops in people who are blind and/or deaf from birth (and Autism-spectrum brain holders).  These people also would have to move through the preverbal-nonverbal-verbal developmental stages differently.

But even here, it would only be those who were NOT LOVED or treated kindly in safe and secure attachment earliest caregiving infant environments that would have experienced the kind of base-line, bottom-up truly altered right-limbic-emotional-social-preverbal brain development that I did.

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So when my stress response is activated like it was at the clinic last week, other people can feel extremely threatened and defensive around me and interaction with me because we are from completely different worlds when it comes to the use of words.

Words are simply a tool to me — to be used as a tool to accomplish an end.  I was not built with words included in my development to be primarily about exchanges involving emotion between people that belong to and in a human group (involving degrees of social bonding).

I believe the more I clarity I can gain about this topic the more I might be able (if I am willing) to NOT move very quickly between using words as TOOLS and using these TOOLS as weapons.  This means to me that words are OBJECTS to me — and I suspect this happens for me on very deep, profound, fundamental levels of my Trauma Altered physiology.

I tried to explain to the doctor at the clinic that all stress has to be deescalated in that environment for me to begin to understand verbal exchange.  I also know that written words are ACTUALLY my primary language.

Social-emotional spoken language exchange, with its normal roots in preverbal and nonverbal language development, IS NOT MY FIRST OR MY PRIMARY LANGUAGE.

If this fact is true for many people with the a so-called ‘anxiety-dissociation diagnosis of mental illness’ — what I am saying is IN HIGH NEED OF SCIENTIFIC VALIDATION.

If what I am discovering about myself as a survivor of extreme early and long-term infant-child abuse is correct, much of the ‘mystery’ and therefore of the social stigma based on misunderstanding about DISSOCIATION can be traced back to Trauma Altered Development as it affected our ability to communicate with others of our species AND MOST IMPORTANTLY in verbal cognition-verbal thought WITHIN OUR OWN SELF.

When I ‘go blank’ during ‘dissociation’ I have followed back a track of development in my physiology that moves far more quickly to a place where words do not exist in information gathering and processing interactions or transactions (either with others or within my own thoughts).

The ONLY hope-for-balm to heal this in the moment it happens would be for all around me to recognize INSTANTLY the need to erase all threat of harm and stress from the encounter.  More importantly, once the ‘dissociation’ involving my altered language processing happens, it is too late to fix it at that moment.

AWARENESS that allows for proactive prevention of the conditions that lead to this dissociation of word meaning from language transaction would be most helpful, along with the very real understanding that I, and others who were abused as infants like I was, do not have the ‘ordinary’ connection between emotional information and ‘verbal fact’.

++

It struck me after I published this post that one powerful effect of my mother’s horrific verbal abuse of me all of my life is that I KNOW what the end product of words as object-tools-weapons REALLY can mean.  All verbal abuse survivors know this.  But when it comes to the ADDITION of terrible verbal abuse as it bombards an infant that is ALSO being neglected, physically abuse and traumatized, there is no possible way that profound physiological development of language abilities can be avoided.

We survivors of trauma on these most profound language-development levels are therefore language exiles from our species and are probably ONLY able to truly communicate with survivors whose brain-language abilities were built with these same altered preverbal-nonverbal-verbal physiological Trauma Altered patterns.

This all must tie in on the deepest human physiological levels with the reasons why it is the ability or disability to tell one’s life narrative ‘coherently’ according to compliance with or ‘incoherently’ in deviation from Grice’s conversational maxims that is the foundation of the assessment tool used to determine a secure versus insecure attachment pattern-system-disorder in adults.  (Adult Attachment Assessment Interview)

Those of us raised in extremely malevolent early attachment environments did not have the same communication ‘rules’ built into our body-brain.  We do NOT, therefore, speak the same language as do those who were not equally as exposed to severe trauma during critical early physiological developmental stages.

(To know a LANGUAGE is a far more complex and expansive operation than simply knowing a collection of WORDS.  There are, for example, nearly 3000 words in this post, but I believe it is only those who have some ‘cultural immersion’ experience in the universe of severe infant-child abuse trauma that will know exactly what I am actually talking about here!)

The Meaning in Words by Dr. Bruce Perry

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+FACTS OF THE MATTER

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I am more convinced today than I have ever been in my life that no one would arbitrarily ever choose to wake up one day and write what I have to say.  I offer a prayer every night of my life that something I present on this blog will help someone else.  For all those infant and child abuse survivors who have NO POSSIBLE ACCESS to any kind of therapy let alone access to the quality of therapy we survivors ACTUALLY need, I say, “Never give up!  Never surrender!  Never stop standing up and sticking up for yourself!  Listen to your inner voice that tells you what YOU KNOW AS FACT about who and how you are in the world!”

For all the terrible abuse I suffered during my first 18 years of life, I somehow still fundamentally believe that the world is a good place, that other people care, that if we stay alive long enough we will find the truth we need to make sense out of what happened to us — somehow — and that things CAN get better than they are now.

When people search online using terms that matter the most to them, asking questions for which no answer has YET turned up that feels like the right key that will open the lock of their deepest understandings, I want them to find something on this blog that matches their search.  I want to add something truthful and useful into the great pot of ‘this is what infant-child abuse TRULY DID to its survivors’.

‘Professionals’ can argue all they want amongst themselves about which diagnostic slot to drop us into.  The fact of the matter is that if we have troubles that might bring us to anyone’s attention in the first place, what we suffer from — no matter what slot THEY decide to drop us into — is Trauma Altered Development that changed the patterns of our physiological development on profound levels that affect us for our lifetime.

If these same professionals ever choose to turn the brilliant light of their intelligence upon this fact, then and only then will the kind of assistance we need in order to understand ourselves and to improve our well-being as Trauma Altered Development beings will begin to rise to the surface as it becomes available to those of us who need it most.

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+MY MOTHER AS A ‘BORDERLINE CHILD’ – HER GOOD/BAD STORY

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I believe that within the ending sentence of this story my mother wrote when she was ten years old (1935) lies a powerful clue to the continuing demise of my mother’s mind that led to the terrible abuse she was later to perpetrate against me as ‘the devil’s child who could do no right’ at the same time she relegated to my younger sister the status of being ‘God’s child who could do no bad’.

Both my sister and I became projections from her own disturbed externalized-mind.

From all the stories my mother told us from her own childhood, her mother also created a profound dichotomous split in her feelings toward and treatment of my mother as the ‘bad’ child and her brother as the ‘good’ one

I am presenting this post as my own response to my previous post

+THE TIN WOMAN’S BRAIN: INFANT-CHILD ABUSE AND DISSOCIATING EMOTION FROM FACT

because from my point of view my mother COULD NOT dissociate or differentiate ’emotion from fact’, while I, as the woman created in response-reaction to the profound continual abuse she perpetrated against me for 18 years experience an in-built (in response to developing a body-brain in my mother’s environment of terror and trauma) ability to certainly dissociate emotional information from factual information when my dissociation is triggered in reaction to stress/duress in the environment.

In what might appear to be a bizarre twist of consequence, I would suggest that my mother DID have one of the ‘organized’ insecure attachment patterns (extreme preoccupation) while I, in response to her insane abuse, ended up with primarily a ‘disorganized’ insecure attachment pattern.

My mother’s inability to differentiate or dissociate emotion from fact (although ‘fact’ was tied to her OWN reality) ended up creating within her brain-mind a condition that was designed to enable her to tolerate what would have otherwise completely overwhelmed her.  She was able to contain her own ‘rejected in-tolerate-able badness’ by including me as an externalized projection of her own mind by projecting all of ‘her badness’ onto me.  That entire process was about her EMOTION being absolutely and permanently confused with FACT (so that she could not differentiate between the two) — and I was forced to pay the price.  Her entire being was ‘organized’ around the profound splitting of good from bad that my mother was unable to recognize.

Neither I nor any of my siblings continued this good-bad splitting with our children.

Because my mother perpetrated continual horrendous abuse against me, I was not able to form an ‘organized’ attachment around anyone including my own self.  It’s like my mother was able to create and absolute vacuum that she placed me within that removed from me any ability to develop my own self whatsoever.

As a consequence, my body-brain was designed and built in this environment of trauma ONLY to ‘react’ to the continual threat, violence and danger that was my mother as I knew her.  I could not possibly ‘organize’ my own self within my environment or take anything but the most basic actions during the first 18 years of my life.  Everything else about me was a reaction to her abuse.

Nearly all my efforts to become an ‘organized oriented self’ and to take action on my own behalf as I grew up were thwarted with very few notable exceptions (my feelings about our Alaskan mountain homestead and my childhood-built ability to learn objective facts).  As a result, I have a ‘disorganized-disoriented’ and ‘reactive’ insecure attachment pattern.

I KNOW I suffered abuse ‘profound enough’ to ‘earn’ me my own diagnosis of the attachment patterns I describe here.  In part due to the ‘solitary confinement’ and extreme isolation my mother enforced upon me I suffer from the Reactive Attachment Disorder component of nonattachment.  (See:   Reactive Attachment Disorder in Adults and Child Abuse and Neglect, Reactive Attachment Disorder)  I react profoundly to all stimulation/information I am exposed to in my external environment.  I believe my mother’s reactions were to the universe created in her brain-mind well before she was old enough to write this story.

++++++++++++++++

Jane and Charles were sitting on the porch wondering what to do outside little snowflakes were playing tag about.

Jane looked up. Their was her mother she said come and get cleaned up. For we are going to call on Uncle Robert. The two children jumped up quickly for they know that he would tell them a story. They jumped into the car and drove up the snowy road the trees wer covered with snowflakes they stopped at a farm rover came to meet them he barked a welcoming. Uncle Robert got up from the chair where he was reading and met them at once.  Jane and Charles [she had Jimmy written in and crossed it out to put in Charles] asked if he would tell them a story he said yes they sat around the fireplace and Uncle Robert began.

Uncle Robert Tells a Story

He started long long ago a bear had three cubs their names were blackie curly and last of all mischievous this he was named because he was always up to some prank this time his mother was going away he told the three little cubs to stay in their cave blackie and curly did but Mischievous did not Blackie and Curly warned him. But this cub was like some children thought he know it all nothing can hurt me he said boldly he trotted down the path not knowing the danger ahead of him.

He looked around not knowing where he was going or thinking about it. He was following a trickling [actually written trickting] brook it was singing him a melody [actually written moldy] of bells.

The cub was so concerned on the music and tree and things around him that he did not [three letter word scratched out here] hear footsteps behind him a hunter was creaping along in the bushes on the other side.

Now let us see what is in the cave of mother bear blackie cub was badly frightened for he knew the dangers ahead of his little brother. Curly meanwhile was having a feast of berrys. Little footsteps entered the cave mother bear was home she looked around yes their was Curly and Blackie but Mischievous [she actually abbreviated this to Mis.] was no where to be seen. Oh mother bear cried where is my mischievous [again abbreviated to mis.] little cub curly cried I told him to stay. Blackie who was [misspelled crying here and scratched it out] crying hard said I told and told him but he said nothing would happen to him no time to cry there’s only time to hunt said mummy bear so out they all went to hunt for Mischievous [again, mis.].

Mischievous [mis.] did not know that they were hunting for him all he thought about was where the little running brook stopped and of how many berries he could [spelled correctly after written wrongly and crossed out] eat the hunter was thinking about how he could catch little Mischievous [Mis.] without harming him, for he wanted [written wan’t] to catch Mischievous [Mis.] and put him in the zoo [spelled zo] for he know he would get a [crossed out and rewritten] lot of money for him.

Oh mother and Blackie and Curly saw the hunter and all three jumped right infront of him for they all three saw Mischievous [Mis.] and that is why they all jumped right infront of the hunter oh he was so startled he jumped higher and quicker than Mother Bear Curly and Blackie had the hunter took head to heals and ran as fast as he had [word correction, crossed out and rewritten] jumped.

Now said Mother Bear, Mischievous [Mis.] come with me and ended Uncle Robert. I don’t think you would like to hear what happened in the cave that night but I will tell you I heard some little bear yells and I know that Mischievous [Mis.] name was changed to sonny bear and don’t you know why? I will tell you because he was always behaving his mother and being sunshiny to people.

[two duplicate sentences are written at the top of this next page that do not seem to be connected to the story:  A little boy came – is underlined, and again:  a little boy came, both sentences are surrounded with a pencil line circle]

Oh tell us another cried Charles and Jane Oh no we will have to go home now and that night Jane and Charles dreamt about bears and cubs Charles dreamt [that is written twice and crossed out before being written a third time] that they were being good and Jane dreamt that they were being bad.

Mildred

++

[Charles was both my mother’s father’s name and her only sibling’s name.  Her brother was 2 years older than my mother]

++

Links to the rest of my mother’s childhood stories:

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My mother’s full writings:  Hope For A Mountain

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[I hope the following links remain active — if not, search Google for pre-borderline (preborderline) child]

On the Borderline Child

The American Psychiatric Publishing textbook of psychiatry – Google Books Result

Robert E. Hales, Stuart C. Yudofsky, Glen O. Gabbard – 2008 – Medical – 1786 pages
These traumatic experiences appear to occur within a context of sustained neglect from which the preborderline child develops enduring rage and self-

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The borderline psychotic child: a selective integration – Google Books Result

Trevor Lubbe – 2000 – Medical – 218 pages
In defining the defensive set-up of the borderline child from a Contemporary described how a pre-adolescent borderline boy employed pseudo-congeniality,

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Parent-child relations: new research – Google Books Result

Dorothy M. Devore – 2006 – Family & Relationships – 219 pages
But now these affective representations are organized (or in the case of a borderline child, can never be organized) and accessible in verbal utterances,

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Borderline Personality Disorder Online Support Forums: Safe

Mar 24, 2009 The relationship between mother and preborderline child is often revealed to have been confrontational or even hostile.”

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core wound of abandonment – Borderline Personality Disorder, Self

Many cases show an ongoing hostile or confictual relationship between mother and preborderline child.”In his book, New Hope for Borderline Personality

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Personality disorders: toward the DSM-V – Google Books Result

William T. O’Donohue, Katherine A. Fowler, Scott O. Lilienfeld – 2007 – Psychology – 398 pages
insensitivity to the preborderline child’s feelings and needs, and serious emotional discord in the family, perhaps leading to separation or divorce.

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Severe Emotional Disturbance in Children and Adolescents

Part I: The Young Child. Internal Conflict and Growth in a Pre-school Child. Early Identifications in the Borderline Child. Part II: The Child in the Family

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Coping with the Borderline Behaviour of Our ChildrenBorderline

Jul 20, 2008 How can we as parents cope with our Borderline children or adult-children? on the infantile emotional nature of an ego-centric pre-teen

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Borderline pathology in children and adolescents

by C Meekings – 2004 – Cited by 5Related articles
trauma in the borderline children suggesting that the experience of multiple traumatic events is more pre– dictive of borderline pathology than any singular

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Child and adolescent psychiatry – Google Books Result

Michael Rutter, Eric A. Taylor – 2002 – Medical – 1209 pages
Studies of adult populations in relation to borderline personality disorder study of pre-morbid adjustment, onset pattern and severity of impairment.

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+DISSOCIATION AS AN ALLERGIC REACTION TO ABUSE

+++++++++++++

I believe that the greatest risk factor for triggering dissociation in severe infant-child abuse survivors is for us to be in a parallel state to the one we were in when we were little.  When we are in NEED we are vulnerable.  Because our body-brain was created and built through trauma altered development to process different information in different ways than ordinary, when we are NOT recognized for the trauma altered beings that we are we are in AN ABUSIVE ENVIRONMENT.

In America, if I had gone to that medical clinic yesterday in need (why else would I have gone?) and had been in a wheel chair, and if the clinic had absolutely no access available, they would have been in violation of law.

Would the medical staff have vehemently insisted that I was NO DIFFERENT than they were (as they did to me when I tried to explain in a PROACTIVE way about how I process information under stressful duress)?

Would they have insisted I was exactly the same as they were if I had been blind or deaf?  Would my difference from them be acknowledged at all if I had been?

Access to the building itself is ABOUT being able to meet one’s needs to gain vital information.  Access FOR ME to the same vital information needed to happen through enlightenment of the staff about HOW I AM IN THE WORLD differently from others especially in the ways I process information under stress.  Denial of this fact is ABUSE — and it is that ABUSE in that environment and situation yesterday that tortured me into the dissociated state I described in this post:  +DURESS AND DISSOCIATION

++

DID THAT CLINIC HAVE THE RIGHT TO ABUSE ME?

Absolutely.  (The more they abused me the more stress I experienced.)

They evidently had the same perfect right to abuse me that my mother had.

++

Am I exercising fantastic thinking when I come to this conclusion about my experience yesterday?

No, I am not.

I am NOT MENTALLY ILL.  I experienced severe enough trauma during my earliest stages of development that I ended up with an INNER body-nervous system-brain-mind that completely adapted itself to that environment of abuse.

I would not have survived otherwise.

When I think about the myriad interactions that happened yesterday at the clinic, I could say that THOSE PEOPLE were mentally ill.  They were not able to stretch their thinking — because of their blatant ignorance of very basic facts about trauma altered development for early abuse survivors — at the same time they stubbornly refused to recognize MY REALITY as I tried to express it to them.

That is exactly what my mother did to me in the beginning:  She disallowed me to have my own reality — in nearly every possible way.  Of course I could NEVER express myself or be heard by my mother any more than I was by the staff at that clinic.  SEE  +THE TIN WOMAN’S BRAIN: INFANT-CHILD ABUSE AND DISSOCIATING EMOTION FROM FACT

Being made to feel by any public service representative I am sick, pathetic, wrong, disabled, ineffective, strange, odd, different, bad, stupid or in any other way being made to feel like an inferior human being who is ‘mentally ill’ is AS ABUSIVE TO SEVERE EARLY ABUSE SURVIVORS AS THE ORIGINAL ABUSE WAS.

Shame on those people!  Shame!

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+THE TIN WOMAN’S BRAIN: INFANT-CHILD ABUSE AND DISSOCIATING EMOTION FROM FACT

++++++++++++++++++++++++

I have spent a lot of time wondering how I would ever be able to write a book about my abusive childhood if I can’t, won’t or don’t ‘go back there’ to remember how I FELT inside during those 18 years of severe trauma.  After my experience yesterday of trying to manage being in a medically over-stimulating and challenging appointment environment — as I wrote about in my last post — +DURESS AND DISSOCIATION — I am beginning to understand that how I felt yesterday and how I tried to describe my experience in my post is EXACTLY how I felt during most of my childhood.

When the words ‘information machine’ appeared in that post, and as I thought about it since then, what I am beginning to understand is that the regions of my brain that process semantic-factual information never became integrated with the parts of my brain that process emotional, social or autobiographical ‘feeling felt’ information.

The ‘information machine’ child COULD and DID go to school and learned complicated bits of facts about the world I live in.  These facts were connected to facts I began to learn about the factual environment around me from the time I was born.  I was able to become oriented in the world of physical objects and information about them as if I had a separate brain from my OTHER brain — the one that was built in terror and chaos from a time well before I even had words.

As I spoke with my daughter last night about what happened yesterday the word BOMBARDED appeared to me almost as an overarching umbrella description of how my experience of being alive in a body in the world feels to me at those times the ‘information machine’ becomes overwhelmed.  Never until my experience with aggressive cancer and its treatment starting July 2007 did I ever have to experience what it feels like in my adulthood to experience what I evidently nearly ALWAYS felt during my infant-childhood.

The ‘information processing machine’ part of me continued to grow as I grew during my first 18 years because it was invisible and was something my mother could seldom outright attack as she DID attack every other part of me as I grew up.  No other expression of LINDA as an individual being-person-identity was allowed to even appear, let alone grow, develop, express herself, become visible, or flourish.

After the extreme duress that cancer and its treatment caused me it has seemed that some important ‘functional-in-this-world’ part of me was erased.  When I need ‘her’ to be HERE to process the factual nonemotional, nonsocial information that being a human being in a human world involves, she is no longer available.

The ‘information machine’ operated more like the Tin Woman than a human being, and did NOT process emotional information (that is physiologically intertwined with social information in our early forming right limbic brain).  The part of our brain that handles “Just the facts, Ma’am” does NOT need emotional information.

++

These brain operations evidently CAN be dissociated from one another.  Not even mentioning what I experienced of my mother’s abuse from birth, even by the age I was in these stories there is no way ‘factual information’ had a place in my experience of trauma and abuse such as these.  My mother’s insane abuse had nothing to do with ME or with reality — I could ‘make sense’ out of nothing she did to me — the FACTS — and MY reality — meant nothing.

+MY 6-WEEK NEWBORN CHECKUP – THE MONSTER WAS BORN WHEN I WAS

see also on my mother and the devil: +WORD WARRIOR NEWS: MY BROKEN, BROKEN, BROKEN MOTHER

*Litany from Start to Finish

*AGE 2 – CINDY BORN – 1953

*Age 3 – THE TOILET BOWL

*Age 4 – THE BEDSPREAD

*Age 5 – THE BUBBLE GUM

*Age 5 – THE FOX

*Age 5 – SHARON AND THE FIRE ANTS

*Age 6 – THE MARBLES

*AGE 6 – FIRST GRADE — NIGHT ON THE STOOL

*AGE 7 – MUD PUDDLE INCIDENT

*AGE 8 – MY BLACK RABBIT, PETER

*Age 9 – BLOODY NOSE

*Age 9 – JOHN and the CHERRY TREE

*Age 10 – THE SHAMPOO LIE AND RUNNING AWAY

*Age 11 – MY EYEBROWS

*Age 13 – DIRTY DIAPER AND PEPPLES IN MY KNEES

+Age 14 – SCRUBBED IN THE TUB

*Age 14 – SILENT TREATMENT

*Age 14 – Gardening and the Sabotage

*Age 15 – FORCED TO WATCH AN ALASKAN SUNRISE

see also for background information:

++SCHORE ON DEVLOPMENT OF RIGHT BRAIN

***Notes on Siegel’s writings

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+DURESS AND DISSOCIATION

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At the doctor’s today — too much, too much, too much, too much information streaming from strange faces, strange mouths, strange eyes — too much information

overload

overload

Where is that safe place?  When facing what needs to be faced is the only right option because I need something I can’t run or hide from.

Noise, too much noise, too much information.  Words dissolve, faces dissolve, my thoughts dissolve.  I can hear nothing, focus on nothing, understand nothing — without tremendous will power concentration.

I can’t explain that although I LOOK like an adult, a person — I can vanish inside, vanish, vanish, vanish.  Empty inside.  Nobody there.  Nobody for you to talk to because there’s nobody in here listening, nobody to hear you.

Too many words, like icicles stabbing stabbing stabbing stabbing.  I can’t tell them, QUIET PLEASE.  I can’t read your lips, your words don’t match the movement of your mouth.

What has happened to me that it’s come to this?  Everything they tell me is complicated complicated complicated.  I cannot understand a word that you are saying.

I have gone backwards in time, all the way back.  Does anyone understand what it’s like to be a nobody?  Body here, nobody else.  Nothing else.  You on the outside moving around, doing people things, I can’t tell you what it’s like inside for me.  There are no words on the inside to meet and match your words on the outside.

All gone.  It’s all gone.”Be here, Linda.  Be here.  Focus.  Pay attention.  This is important, you cannot go away.  There is nobody here with you to help you.  You are alone in this.  You have to do this.”

Appointment after appointment, things I need taken care of.  How can I do it?

The terror I cannot name overtakes me and I can barely bash it back.  It comes like a cloud of locusts, out of the void, out of the unknown world I do not feel a part of

unless

unless

all is calm.  All is slowly given, carefully spoken, like drops of nectar, drops of dew, one at a time slowly sinking in below the surface, into my awareness.

I wish I knew what happened to one of my competent selves, a confident one, one who could fool herself as she fooled everyone else — an information machine.  Very efficient.  Ticking words, in and out like gushes of breath, all held in check, in their places, in their order

But not now.  The words don’t work that way any more.  Not when there are things at stake and I am a stranger in a strange place and there’s too much to take in — and I go away, fighting not to, like the dark spook shadows in the movie “Ghost,” dragged away I go into the darkness while they all stay where they are in the light.

And the tears come rushing out of my eyes and I can’t outrun them, sidestep them, just they gush

What I can manage to grasp in my attention is like a thousand diamond’s thousand facets — spinning spinning spinning

How to make sense of THAT?

There is no dissociational OTHER to take over when things inside fall to pieces.  Nobody there.  Nobody there.  I am barely here and then gone again

gone again

gone again

It is frightening.  Walls and floors and doors and ceilings disappear along with meaning behind the sounds.

“Stay here, Linda.  Pay attention Linda.”

In the two hours I spent in that clinic today I vanished a million times.  All that remains behind is this body with a gossamer thread of me attached somehow — I am NOT dead yet, not dead yet, not dead yet.  I am this body, I am supposed to be in this body.

But we part ways, go in different directions, and nobody here can pay any attention to anything except how the storm feels inside feels inside feels inside.

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