As we’ve discussed, the physical body isn’t the only part of us that uses this principle of “the lesser of two evils.” While we always prefer ideal options from which to make our choices—happy and pristine surroundings, perfect nutrition, wise teachers, kind friends—circumstances are often far from ideal, and we have to do the best we can in the situation. Adults sent into war, children sold into slavery and indeed the child at home being physically, sexually or emotionally abused—all these instances may call for choices of sacrifice: “If I want to function from day to day, I cannot live in a state of shock. So ‘someone else’ will handle getting abused while ‘I’ handle daily living.”
In effect, the abused child basically sacrifices part of her connection to her true self, her soul, in order to preserve it. By separating her true self from the abuse, this aspect of her life is able to keep its attachment and its control over other parts of the child’s life. It’s wonderful that our true essence can be preserved in this way, and that this allows it to continue taking part in our lives. But there are consequences to this splitting.
After all, our souls are really the life force that makes us individuals rather than just a biological entity or part of a collective mind. This life force is what allows us to have what many people call “God-given talents,” whether these are for learning, for creating or for having a good sense of humor. This essence also knows how to deeply love and respect itself and others—something that seems to be missing in so many people who have suffered from shock.
The potential for shock is around every corner, from the moment of conception to birth to the patterns we’re exposed to by our parents, teachers and the media. No child completely escapes the impressions of stress and trauma, even if he or she is only affected to a small extent. But picture the child who has experienced minimal trauma, from a loving conception to an easy delivery, from harmony in his home and classroom life to encouragement in learning and doing. Perhaps most important of all is regular assurance from both word and deed that he is loved and respected. Picture that child and know how eager he is to learn; how happy he is to show affection; how readily he laughs. This is the structure of the generally uninhibited soul.
The soul is inhibited to some degree simply by being in a physical body. The body gives it limitations and frailties. And while most parents would love nothing better than to give their children this idyllic kind of environment, the challenges of everything from global and household economics to jobs, politics, relationships, health, housekeeping and other errands seem determined to keep them from doing so. But the younger the children without substantial abuses in their lives, the more we see those brilliant soul qualities shining through their eyes.
As we get older, though, trauma and shock play their role in teaching us, either directly or indirectly. Subtle traumas happen even in simple instances like heading into middle school for the first time and being laughed at for being different in some way and so, as a matter of protection, we start to learn how to fit in rather than being that unique self that had so much light in it. This is when trauma teaches us directly. Then we may teach our own children years later that they need to learn how to fit in and we encourage them to hide their true selves, because we fear for their safety. Now trauma is reaching the child indirectly through us as parents.
As we split away from the soul—either in subtle ways, as with shadows, or in substantial ways, as with shock—trauma and shock really are the only other elements available to control how we function. They are the default programming when the soul isn’t making choices.
Aspects of the collective mind come to us in the form of archetypes and guide our thinking. In this book we’re describing these as circus characters. This helps us to deal with ongoing trauma, because we’re now accompanied by a powerful companion (identified as a part of ‘me’ that I don’t quite control). This could be the Muscle Man, the Fat Lady, the Clown or others. But whatever form these archetypes take, its original intention is to act as a protective bodyguard for the traumatized person to hide behind.
Having this bodyguard comes at a steep price, however, because when there is any perceived threat having to do with the original trauma—the trauma that created this relationship—then the bodyguard takes control with or without current permission, because permission was given with the original agreement.
THE PHYSIOLOGY OF SHOCK
Perhaps the most important key to understanding shock is understanding our built-in system for handling stress. This system is designed to protect us and, as with the “lesser of two evils” we mentioned, the results of having this system work for us aren’t always ideal, yet they are more ideal than the alternative, which is basically death by stress due to a loss of homeostasis. But when we’re pushed too far, to the point of trauma and shock, you can see the lasting results of this protective system in our behavior.
This profound influence on human behavior is found within the deep evolutionary streams of human nature, flowing through the hormonal and nervous systems, regulated by the instinctual “reptilian brain” (limbic system). That part of the brain controls emotional thought, including rage, fear, aggression and arousal. The influence of these systems is especially direct as imminent threat increases. Importantly for us, the “new brain”—the prefrontal cortex and especially the hippocampus—can moderate that influence, putting the reality of a threat into context and making mindful, conscious choices of behavior.
So in animals having both parts of the brain to work from, nature combines the two to deal with danger. First there’s an old brain (reptilian brain) assessment of a situation. This assessment asks, “Is there reason to turn up the stress response system?” The reptilian brain may determine that there is reason for a stress response, but the new brain may provide context to the situation and thereby eliminate the need for the stress response. However, in those who have suffered from shock, the new brain cannot provide that context so the reptilian brain’s decision remains and can only provide two basic types of response: fight/flight and freeze. Let’s take a look at a zebra in the wild as an example.
ORIENTING RESPONSE
Engaged in its daily activity, a prey animal like a zebra has an “early warning system” that senses a potential threat. Perhaps it is grazing when it suddenly hears something hidden in the nearby grass. It enters a state of “alert immobility,” becoming almost entirely motionless, and focuses its attention on sensory cues regarding the threat (typically sight, sound and smell). If no danger is detected, the zebra resumes normal activity without wasting energy on a fight or flight response. If danger is imminent, then fight or flight is initiated.
THE FIGHT OR FLIGHT RESPONSE
The sympathetic response (fight/flight) is most easily understood as an upsurge in emotion. In people, these emotions are experienced as coming “up”—anger, fear, excitement, desire, hatred—and, if expressed, involve movement toward the problem (fight) or away from the problem (flight).
So perhaps our zebra spots a lion. Immediately, the instinctual fight or flight response is activated and stress hormones are pumped into the body by the sympathetic nervous system to put all available energy into survival. Norepinephrine immediately calls into action certain centers in the brain to respond, including the amygdala (the center for emotional memories) and the hippocampus (the nerve center that provides a conscious structure and context for “declarative memory”—a form of memory relating to facts and events in cooperation with the cerebral cortex). Adrenaline surges and glucose is mobilized from the liver to provide energy to activate the heart, lungs, arms and legs in order to optimize impending fight or flight. Endorphins are released in the brain to create stress-induced analgesia (to reduce any pain).
If the zebra in our example survives the threat on its life, it then discharges the stress hormones in its body and resumes its normal daily activities. The discharge is primordial, reflexive and totally somatic, ranging from twitching movements to violent shaking. And a record of the successful survival experience is etched in the hippocampus to make future threats more survivable.
As we’ve indicated, you can see the lingering