Unclenched

First Chapter of a novel I'm writing. It's called "unclenched


Life and Its Distresses. The fear and trembling before speech. Tongue tied just doesn’t cut it. Punched in the stomach, throat clenched, forehead feels like its being sucked into an astral whirlpool. That’s what it’s like.

This is how I live sometimes. At its worst, I feel an utter weakness before my worries. I cannot think of anything else. My mind narrows in on one thing, and it flares and becomes absorbed in it; my body slackens, my muscles clench from toe to cheeks. I can feel my face clenching; I can tell my shoulders are tight; my eyes, they feel to be alert, as if they’re awaiting a shock. I’m in shock; my body is in shock. My energy levels our dismally low.

I can only imagine what my energy body would look like. Before, in the car with Jordan, I described it perfectly. Imagine a device that could read energy fields, and present this information as circular fields on a graph (reminiscent of those graphs used to present a population statistic). Whereas a healthy person would radiate a field large enough to encompass others, mine would be small, able to absorb only its self, in solitude, away from other people.

Developmental trauma is the name they give to a person with my particular malady. Typically, it occurs postnatally in the first few years of life. It’s a fairly human condition. Many of us (up to 30%) are mildly traumatized and don’t even know it. Any reason we give to ourselves for “why” we don’t do this or that, for why we don’t want to go to the neighbours house, or go to the gym, or make new friends, is because we are mildly traumatized from early life experiences which set the tone for the bodies energy levels. We grow into adulthood believing we are normal, or have “OCD” or “phobias”, or anxiety disorders” or body dysmorphia or gender dysphoria, when in fact, there is an underlying emotional dysregulation – a highly aroused nervous system that for one reason or another decides to focus on “this” particular thing; Cancer! Aids! I’m fat! I’m Ugly! I need to count to 5 before I wash my hands! I’m afraid of people! My voice sounds strange!!!

Those who have it have it to varying degrees. Someone who’s only known this state – known as dissociation – would appear to be more severely impacted and inhibited than someone who was only mildly traumatized early on (caused by their neurotic mother) but who still managed to make friends, experience embodiment, high emotions, and develop a sturdy sense of self. Not until I was 13 did I experience my first genuine episode of trauma. And by trauma I mean a “shock”. A type of feeling that leaves you completely dissociated: highly nervous, hypervigilant, self consciousness and a pervasive sense of threat. But worst of all is the shame which underlies it all. If the dysregulation of the nervous system is the horse, then the self consciousness is the rider, and the sword he carries the profound sense of shame. I am struck by it when ever I find myself to be struggling in a public situation. First, I feel this sense of discomfort. Next, I become aware of myself in the situation. Last, and the finishing touch, is an utterly painful sense of embarassment. Every eye emits a toxic beam of criticism, meanness, hatred, and judgement upon me. Every face tells me I am not wanted – not accepted. I am weird; I am awkward, I am a try-hard. Everything, in other words, echoes a lie. This enormous cognitive distortion is the product of dysregulation in the nervous system.

Think about it. Dysregulation is an impersonal state of dysfunction. It doesn’t say anything about ideas, concepts, beliefs. It is a fact – a measurement. If it were a wave, it would register a particular number. The number if low corresponds with “these” ideas. If high, with “these” ideas. The person we know is first of all a product of this number system. His character, his personality, his temperament, is all a delineated expression of this property. So if you’re going to heal developmental trauma, you have to really hammer into your head one basic idea: do not take the thoughts which you think seriously. They aren’t real. They are distortions. They can never be relied upon to convey accurate appraisals of self at all times. Times where you in fact are doing fine, might compel you to believe that you aren’t. And yes, at other times, your own awareness of the power of the dysregulation would have you returning to thoughts and thinking to “protect” you. But again, this is an illusion: it only acts to suck you in deeper, out of yourself, out of your body, out of your emotions.

Someone who has never suffered developmental trauma to a severe degree has trouble understanding what reality is like without the interface of emotion. What does reality become? How is the world felt and experienced? How does time feel? How do you feel moving through time, from one emotion to another emotion?

When you’ve suffered a trauma like this, you can’t help but succumb to the temptation to think “are you not aware of your ability to freely communicate with other people?” For me, the freedom, the sense of safety, seems almost surreal. And to think about this, to reflect upon my own injured experience, is even more surreal. How can I be living this way? Like the metric song asks “Am I breathing underwater?”

I do appear to be breathing underwater. My mom, dad, sister, brother all confirm for me the massive distortion in how I experience reality. While they more or less feel good and relaxed most of the time, I am continuously tense, in one way or another. If at home, by myself, I am fine. But if I say to myself “say: Hey Maggie” I find myself forcing the act of speech. I am “locked in” – linking up with a insecure thought about my voice – which emotionally feels like a general “I am not happy with this” type of experience. If in society, I feel this incredible urge to watch myself. Locking myself into the tension I experience while I think about that.

Very good writing. Very clean and precise. A suggestion. Try not to use I and me so much. That'll make the writing even better. Also, not so egotistical, unless, of course, that's the attitude you want coming across.

reply to post by Broom

Very good writing. Very clean and precise.

Thank you.

A suggestion. Try not to use I and me so much. That'll make the writing even better.

That's sort of the vantage point I'm working from. Unclenched is about a guy coming out of his trauma told in the first person; like a diary of sorts.. So naturally there will be many "I's" and "me's" found throughout. When I'm finished I'll attach specific dates to each entry, so instead of being written in the typical chapter 1, chapter 2, etc, format, it'll have specific dates associated with each entry, to give it more of a developmental realism.

Also, not so egotistical, unless, of course, that's the attitude you want coming across.

Mind me asking what you mean by this?

If by egotistical, you mean "showing off, overly confident in it's analyses".... most authors do this. You don't have to necessarily agree with their perspective (God knows I disagree with Philip Roths philosophical outlook; though from his anxious, culturally Jewish perspective, it's understandable) but it is nevertheless interesting putting yourself in the world of the author.

Since I study developmental psychology, with a focus on developmental trauma, much of my analyses are textbook. But reading about a person in a book, and having a person describe his own experience, are two different things. I feel like I'm breaking new ground by exploring the experience of someone whose experienced from the first person perspective; giving expression to their feelings, the lessons they have learned, about themselves, their own growth as individuals, and about the role of emotion in human experience and relationship.

reply to post by Astrocyte


It is true that many people show off. But you don't have to.

The broom was simply referring to the fact that a person who says me and I a lot is egotistical.

Listen to people talk, or write, and their ego may show without their knowledge. Ego is not bad. Being egotistical turns people off.

reply to post by Broom


Ah, ok. so expressing myself - or my character - in a way that felt right to me and was done without any pretense - is "egotistical".

You're a douchebag.