tl;dr
Trauma can show up in ways that don't always look how we expect. You don't need a diagnosis - or a story that feels “bad enough” - for what happened to have affected you. Trauma therapy with me is collaborative, conversational, and always on your terms.
trauma therapy in Athens, GA
or telehealth anywhere in Georgia
What does trauma look like?
The effects of trauma, given how different each experience can be, are surprisingly consistent. Quietly, it shows up in nightmares, difficulty sleeping or sleeping too much, fear, anger, jealousy. In our behaviors it can look like codependence, addiction, "self-destructive patterns," self-isolation, self harm, hyper independence, ambition, risky behavior, or overly abundant caution.
It can show up in relationships, too: difficulty trusting people, desperately wanting reassurance and then struggling to believe it when we get it, people-pleasing, staying in relationships that hurt us, leaving before someone gets the chance to hurt us, or feeling responsible for everyone else's emotions. Sometimes it looks less like falling apart and more like holding everything together at all costs. Working harder. Achieving more. Being the dependable one. Never asking for help. Making sure we don't need anyone enough that they could disappoint us.
What is "trauma"?
There's a common expression in trauma work that says a trauma response is a normal reaction to an abnormal event. While I don't often like the use of the word normal in the therapeutic space, I think this holds some merit here. Trauma can happen when an experience threatens our safety, survival, sense of self, or our understanding of how the world is supposed to work. That threat can be physical, emotional, mental, or spiritual.
For some, potentially traumatic experiences are embedded in systemic oppression: racism, sexism, transphobia, xenophobia, food insecurity, unstable housing, inadequate access to medical care.
For others, they're rooted in relationships: interpersonal violence, chronic invalidation, manipulation and gaslighting, religious trauma, grief. For first responders, trauma may lurk in the sensation of trying to protect others while also exposing one's own mortality and daily injustices against human beings wrought by the problematic institutions of the American healthcare and criminal justice systems.
Many of us will experience varying levels of these things and more, though not all of us will develop a trauma-related disorder. You also don't need to meet the diagnostic criteria in order for it to have affected you in profound ways that deserve space in therapy.
But what happened to me wasn't that bad.
This is one of those things that every trauma survivor seems to have in common. They'll tell me their stories and then, almost as an afterthought, add - "But it wasn't that bad. It's not like other people's experiences." There's something about wanting to minimize your own suffering in comparison to others' that is very common amongst trauma survivors. We'll make it manageable, less messy, less burdensome. "It could have been worse," they'll tell me.
Here's the thing about that toxic positivity—we may have learned to say those things for the comfort of those around us, but it's not actually serving our own healing journeys. Something happened that didn't fit with what we believed about ourselves, other people, or how the world was supposed to work. Our brain says, “Hey—this shit sucked!” and we're responding with, “Meh, did it though?” Instead of resolving that conflict, minimizing what happened can leave us continuing to wrestle with two versions of reality that don't quite fit together.
In therapy, we'll make room for that discomfort instead of arguing with it. We'll allow space for the grief and pain that comes with the shitty thing that happened and begin figuring out how what happened fits into the story of who you are and what you believe now—without requiring you to pretend it wasn't that bad.
Okay, now what.
When you're ready, this is where trauma therapy shows up. Working with me doesn't mean being forced to revisit every painfully intimate detail of what happened. It also doesn't mean we're going to "fix" you (because, as I tell my clients often, you're not actually broken).
Trauma therapy is about establishing a safe relationship with someone who doesn't require the same level of relational dynamics that you're used to in most relationships and where you don't have to worry about taking care of me, protecting my feelings, or giving me the version of the story that's easiest for me to hear.
That means I'm going to seriously, really ask you, "how are you?" I'm going to want to know for real, not the answer you give the cashier when you're buying milk. And the relationship is going to feel a little one-sided, because it is. We're not here for me. We're here for you to process the thing that happened in a way that is safe and on your terms, while I support you the best I can with evidence-based practice.
Sometimes that may look like "I don't want to talk about it today." And that's completely fucking fine. Because by allowing you to direct the conversation to politics or hobbies or cupcakes or whatever else you'd rather talk about, we're ensuring that you have the agency that was taken from you when that trauma happened. We'll examine it when you feel ready and I'm confident that you have the tools. I may challenge you sometimes (that's part of my job) but you're always allowed to tell me no. No one is going to drag you somewhere you aren't ready to go.
Wanna learn more?
Schedule a free 15-minute consultation to ask questions, tell me a little about what you're looking for, and see if working together feels like a good fit.