Disclaimer: I am not a neuroscientist. The neuroscience discussed in this post is most certainly incomplete. And while I am a therapist, this post is also not therapy, and the information should not be used in the place of therapeutic treatment. However, I am a firm believer in empowering people with compassionate knowledge to help us all make informed choices about how we care for ourselves and each other. May this information inspire you to do your own research, self-reflection, and to consult with a mental health professional who can help you better understand yourself and your own unique needs.

When I was in grad school, I read a book called In an unspoken voice: How the body releases trauma and restores goodness (Levine, 2010). In it, the author described the various ways that the human brain and nervous system responds to threats in our environment. He outlined three levels of trauma response:

1. Through what is called “the social engagement system”, our cognitive brains use social interaction to try to diffuse the situation, negotiate, persuade the threat away.

2. If this is unsuccessful and the threat persists, our limbic system (commonly understood as the center of our emotions) switches into gear with the “fight or flight” response. The goal of this response is to motivate our body to literally get us out of the situation. Fight. Flee. Remove ourselves or defeat the threat at all costs.

3. If fighting and fleeing is unsuccessful or deemed too dangerous, then our brain stem kicks in with what is called the “freeze response”. This was best described to me through a comparison to some animals’ (such as the opossom’s) way of pretending to be dead to avoid harm from a predator. In humans this can look like (among other things) a separation of our cognitive awareness from physical sensation, so as to prevent scarring in our minds, even if we cannot prevent it to our bodies. We commonly refer to this as dissociation and it is often accompanied by things like feeling emotionally numb and having memory lapses. It’s our brain switching off certain higher levels of functioning to protect whatever it has left. 

While this can certainly happen in the most dire of situations for people directly experiencing trauma, it also happens much more globally to people who witness trauma, hear about it or know that it is happening to others. Secondary trauma like supporting a friend or family member who is being abused, or knowing about the trauma that a person you care about has faced even if you yourself were not there. Watching violence on TV. Having access to video and imagery of bombings, war, death, genocide as easily as picking up our phones and opening an app. 

Our brains have to process that information, whether it is happening to us personally or to someone else. And then we will respond with our words and actions (or inaction) in the moment based on how our brains are responding to the threat we are engaging with.

Right now, there is terrible terrible violence happening in the world. Awful atrocities being committed. And because of technology, the REALITY of this can be conveyed, and felt much more intensely than reading a headline in a newspaper. In a way, this is a good thing because it makes it much more difficult to turn a blind eye on the terrible things happening in the world. It can inspire positive and meaningful action. It can mobilize change (cue the social engagement system). 

AND. It is also a form of secondary trauma that has the potential to result in a fight, flight, or freeze response.

Fighting might look like actual engagement on the ground for people in those positions. It might look like political movements, calls to action, open condemnation. For the lay person whose only involvement is from a far, maybe it looks like hostility among friends. Arguments with those you know, and those you don’t know. Angry assumptions that may or may not be correct, but result in bullying and broken relationships anyways.

In the same way, fleeing might be actual physical running and hiding. Or it could look like people not wanting to talk about it anymore. Turning off their phone. Mentally running away and focusing on something else as a way of telling your brain “if you don’t see it, it doesn’t happen” Avoidance. Denial. Mental boundaries erected to protect yourself from the psychological damage of just knowing.

And lastly, the freeze response. The immobilization of knowing that the trauma will continue and there is actually no way that you can think of to stop it, or to run away from it with a clear conscience. Overwhelm and incapacitating grief characterized by silence and inaction.

So many of us are reacting in these ways on a daily basis. And, unfortunately, this is how our brains are wired to react. This is how our brains keep us safe. I can’t tell you how to fix this, any more than I remove the threat or stop the atrocities. I can’t, and wouldn’t want to tell you how to make your brain react in a way that is comfortable to things like war and genocide. This isn’t supposed to be comfortable. 

I can, however, encourage you to use this knowledge to treat yourself and those around you with the compassion that only comes from understanding what another person is going through. 

You are reacting this way because _______.

They are reacting this way because _______. 

We are all primed right now to think the worst of humanity. The media is making it extremely clear and obvious how evil humanity can be. And that is seeping into how we view our immediate communities as well. And while this evil is certainly present, I refuse to believe that this means that the goodness of humanity has been eradicated. 

We are still here. Compassionate, caring, empathetic, loving justice, loathing violence, fighting for a better world. Beneath the fighting, fleeing, and freezing of our communities, are people that care, and are too scared to react any differently.

As I have been processing these events for myself, and supporting my immediate community through this, I have been trying to find the right words to express my desperate longing for peace in a way that might be helpful for others to hear. I’m not sure I have found them yet, but I’ll try anyways.

What if instead of fighting, we raised each other up?

What if instead of fleeing, we held hands and faced our fears together?

What if we responded to each other’s defense mechanisms with understanding instead of condemnation?

What if we stood against genocide by clinging to our common humanity instead of inciting more division?

What if we fought war with peace?

I know it is more complicated than this. And words don’t feel like they are enough right now. But if I could leave you with one thing from all these ramblings, it is an encouragement to look for the common humanity in all of us - to see each other as human beings and not simply as ideas that we disagree with. Whatever else you decide to do or say, let this be your foundation.

-Maria

Reference: Levine, P. (2010). In an unspoken voice: How the body releases trauma and restores goodness. Berkeley, CA: North Atlantic Books