I’ve been asked, over the years, if, in order to recover from trauma, one needs to talk through every detail of the trauma. Honestly? I don’t think so. In fact, rehashing every single detail of whatever trauma you’ve been through can be re-traumatizing.
In terms of DID it’s a little more complicated. This, I imagine, would vary from system to system. I know I don’t remember everything that’s happened to me – I have years that are completely blank, aside from knowing where I lived and a few fragmented memories. I know it’s normal not to remember everything from your childhood, and I don’t expect to. It’s just that I have large amounts of time that are blank.
There is a period of time from age seven to nine years old that is incredibly vague. I do remember some things about school, very little about friends, and only a couple of memories of being at home. Given that some of my alters fall into that age bracket, I can safely guess that there was trauma at that age.
I want to know what happened. I want to fill in the gaps. I want to know what I’ve missed. In saying that, I don’t want to know all the details of the abuse. I’d like to know the extent of the abuse, but in mater-of-fact terms as opposed to gory details in the form of flashbacks and body memories.
For my own recovery I don’t think I need to know the details. In saying that, my parts probably do need to talk about some details. I’d just rather not know about it. That is somewhat possible for me because I’m not always co-conscious with all my parts.
It’s not easy though. Accepting that “bad stuff” happened is hard. I can say “bad stuff” happened. That still allows me to hide in denial a little bit. Saying I was “sexually abused”, even “abused” can be too much. That’s very confronting and often overwhelming. It fills me with horror and a deep, deep sadness. When those feelings become too much to cope with I’ll dissociate. Any distance from the reality of my history is a relief. There are, however, other parts that can talk about it.
They can say it’s sad or scary. Tell someone that they didn’t like it, that it was mean or different things hurt. I can’t talk about it. It scares me. Scares me so, so much. This is how it goes in my head when someone external raises the topic:
“No, no, no, no. Nothing happened. Nothing. Never. Nope. not me. Not here. Didn’t happen. Can’t hear you. Not hearing you. Not going to cry. You won’t stop. That’s it. I’m leaving. Done. Gone. Fading. Relief. Mind is slowing. Everything is okay now. Quiet. Interesting pattern on the carpet. I can see a face… no, not quite. Hmmm. Oh. You’re saying something. What? Oh… hmm. I’m not sure. No. I don’t want to move. Moving is scary. Still is safer. No, don’t touch me. Please leave me alone. Let me sit. Have escaped from the bad. Don’t bring it back. Don’t make it real again. Okay… I have to move or you’ll call an ambulance. Oh hell no! Not hospital. Please no. Don’t make me go. I don’t want them touching me. So scared. Must move. Foot… move. Can’t quite feel my body. It won’t move. I’m trying. I’m sorry. So scared.”
That… that, is what happens in my head. Sometimes that is what will lead to a catatonic episode. When that happen my mind slows down even more and I’m even more unable to respond to people.
I suppose, in short, rehashing trauma can be incredibly unhelpful and damaging. It’s, generally, not something that needs to be done. Clients absolutely need to move at their own pace (with gentle encouragement) and be in control of the process.