I Got Traumatized And It's Fine!

August 24, 2026  |  19 min read

...Forgive the clickbait title, I seriously couldn't help myself on that one.

So… we have a bit of a strange opportunity here.

A lot of my recent philosophizing has been about… kind of trying to de-mystify trauma, and re-categorize it as a Type Of Experience that is still on the same experience spectrum as everything else in human experience, instead of a specific and unique psychological phenomenon like some people seem to propose (including providers, and including researchers - looking Bessel van der Kolk, author of The Body Keeps the Score, directly in the eyes while saying this).

What even is trauma? I’ve been given so many definitions from different providers and other peers that eventually I just used the word “trauma” as shorthand for “bad experience past a certain point on the Good/Bad Impact Spectrum.” At first, I had the idea that trauma was “bad experiences you aren’t equipped to handle,” since I’d heard that definition before, but honestly - even that didn’t fit, because I’ve had good experiences I wasn’t equipped to handle that also have caused problems, and those deserve recognition too - nothing happens in a vacuum and an event can cause a lot of complex aftermath effects, good and bad. I’ve had bad experiences that I was equipped to handle that have still caused effects if even by sole virtue of the fact that I’m running on a nervous system of a design that has evolved over millenia to respond in certain ways to threats, even completely independent of my conscious or even sometimes conscious and emotional understandings.

Actually, I kind of want to just not use the word “trauma” at all in this post past a point. I think it carries a set of assumptions and associations that are different to different people, and I don’t know what your definition of it is, so I think it might actually be better to just describe what is happening and describe my thoughts.

We picked up a part-time job recently, and despite us voicing safety concerns to multiple managers and employees, it was barely acknowledged by management, and we were told a bunch of workarounds (including some technically-illegal ones) in order to “keep ourselves safe.” Regardless, we ended up twisting our ankle very badly at one point with no one in the building to help, and then the night we quit, the store was robbed at gunpoint with us as the only person in the building. (According to store policy, only one employee is permitted to work at a time, save for during a shift change, and we had been given a single closing shift during training before sent off to handle repeatedly closing the entire store solo, which is part of what we'd been complaining about. We believe the guy was aware that only one employee typically worked at a time and waited until everyone else left, knowing he could catch an employee alone and basically unable to call for help.)

We've since quit and are actually looking into legal reporting, but that’s a whole ‘nother headache.

Anyway. By just about anybody’s definition of trauma - at least, most people we’ve talked to! - I think most people would consider being targeted while completely alone and held at gunpoint as a traumatic experience - and… it is, don’t get me wrong. But I’m going to do what I said I would do earlier and set aside that word, trauma, for a second.

It hasn’t been smooth going. There’s been multiple episodes in the aftermath of anxiety and maelstrom thoughts and emotions. But at the same time - I’m actually… doing okay. But before you get the idea I’m glossing over anything, just… let me describe this.

I feel like this is… kind of the first time that I’ve encountered a categorically horrible and legitimately dangerous and scary situation where I’m more aware of what is going on, why I’d be reacting to things in certain ways, and why.

Going back to my bear-in-a-forest essay, so much of it comes down to survival wiring that evolved during a time when societal and environmental landscapes did not shift as quickly as they do now - times when for generations, if you got attacked by a bear, you could not just hop in your car and drive far away from anywhere the bear might realistically be, for example.

That first night, I hardly slept. Well, no shit. My nervous system was on high alert, because it’s been evolutionarily wired to try to keep me alert in case the bear comes back. My brain was replaying bits of it over and over as if seeking a “better solution” or as if it was convinced we’d missed something. It was convinced the bear was going to come back, and… again, survival wiring. An organism with a neurology that keeps them alert and jumpy after a dangerous event, even if it’s unpleasant as hell, is probably going to be more likely to survive if the bear does come back.

But the bear isn’t coming back. My neurology itself doesn’t truly understand that I can just drive to the other side of the city and be safe away from the bear. And this is all basically automatic response, it’s like a reflex - I can’t just think my way out of that, and if I could, it wouldn’t be a very effective alarm system way back in the older days of human survival. Alarm systems don’t work if you can just shut them off whenever it inconveniences you or you don’t understand why it’s happening - or even if you just don’t want to think about it too hard. So it makes sense that I still felt very unsafe, even though my logical awareness knew that the guy wasn’t going to come barrelling through my front door.

So - coping skills. Hey, brain. I know you’re trying to keep me safe, but we are safe. Let’s do some things to make ourselves feel safe again, yeah? Blankets, piles of shark plushies, some tea, warm low lighting. Okay. I should feel safer, right?

Nope. That did not work at all, actually. Or… well, maybe it did a little bit, but nowhere near enough to feel significantly different. Those are all things that can often help me and does often help me, it just wasn’t addressing what was actually wrong, in this case.

So. Pause. Hey, brain. Stuff feels really unsafe right now, but this is also a pretty different situation to the usual. What else is going on?

Nothing logical came to mind, but - again, this is actually not logical brain that I’m trying to talk to, is it. If it was, then brain would understand that I’m not near the bear (attacker/site of robbery) and that we can chill out and take a breath. So - if I just put that aside for a moment and let myself just be illogical or whatever for a moment -

Feels like I’m not alive. Feels like I’m scared that I’m not alive.

Ah. Okay. That… actually, that makes a lot of sense. We’ve had some close calls before, this whole household, and… well, if you know my personal exomemory history - or, really, even if you know anything about the external fictional parallel - I don’t think it would take rocket science to figure out the connection, but that’s not really something I want to go into detail in this essay right now. Long story short, I’ve had some closer experiences with death in exomemory/in-verse memory than I would really like that would make sense in how it affects my specific reactions to this event. Within that context, it makes sense that “the bear” might kind of be multiple bears to my nervous system: there’s the attacker, sure, but there’s also a hypothetical bear of… well, danger and death, I guess. And a fear of losing what I have currently because of it.

So. Brain. We feel disconnected and frightened and like we’re not alive - so let’s do something that makes us feel alive.

Honestly, that was a lot of sensory stuff. Our therapist nodded and said “Grounding,” when I told her that, and I agree it technically fits under grounding, but if I just tried generically going “name five things you can see” or even trying less-generic mindfulness exercises like feeling the textures and things around me, I don’t think it would’ve worked. I specifically needed things that reminded my brain and body that I am alive, I’m breathing, I have a beating heart and blood and consciousness and all sorts. “Name what you see” or even “concentrate on feeling the blanket under you” won’t cut it.

Lemon juice on my tongue that makes me focus on how I’m flexing that muscle. Ice - but specifically moving it in patterns that highlight the warmness of my skin instead of just holding it until my palms are numb. Stinging-but-safe sensations that snap my awareness back to the present moment along with a bit of adrenaline. (Kink is, uh, not bad for this!) Something that gets my heart up without feeling like anxiety - well, some of that’s also a little not safe for work, but y’know? When I’m with people I feel so incredibly safe around, that additional feeling of care and connection is also pretty powerful.

I’m still having some anxiety episodes and some dissociation-y type episodes about it, and like I said - it’s not 100% smooth, as you’d expect. And it’s important to me to not rush this - it’ll come in its own time, but even so. I was actually surprised a few days after when I’d woken up snuggled with two of my housemates, Cora and Chris, and the sun was coming through the window, and - not everything is perfect, of course. Nothing ever is. But that small moment of just… existing felt actually… Normal. Safe. Comfortable. We’ve never had that this close to what would kinda be considered a major traumatic event. Yeah, it was bad and scary and there’s still ways my nervous system is trying to react because it’s primed to alert me to anything that might possibly indicate the bear. Even just earlier today I picked up the shirt I’d been wearing when all that happened and felt my chest tighten.

But - like - I know why that’s happening. Even with picking up that shirt - initially, I went “ah, okay, keep a grip on yourself, it’s fine - “ which I think is true, technically, y’know, I am fine, but just trying to tell myself “I am fine” is not actually going to make me feel fine. Part of what I’m trying to consciously be aware of is what automatic alerts and fears my brain is trying to adopt in the aftermath for safety, too, and not just wallpaper over the whole thing because it’s easier.

And some of them are realistic and helpful - if a workplace is ignoring safety concerns like that, I’m taking that as a much bigger red flag next time, for example, and while I did try to voice concerns to management at this job, I’ll probably be a little more insistent about it and ask more specific questions if I’m seeing possible red flags like this. (Honestly, I get the feeling the “regional manager” is not used to people standing up to her; she seems to give the impression of someone who is used to people letting a lot of things slide if she gives them a charismatic enough smile or if she flips from casual camaraderie type tones to a clipped and formal “We’ll talk about this in person next week” with the implication that you are the one in trouble.)

But then there’s things that aren’t as realistic and helpful, like getting tense picking up a shirt that I like, that I don’t want to have negative associations with, and that I still want to keep wearing.

So - again, pause. Brain, what are you scared of?

I think it’s really just… “this reminds me of the bear and I am scared of the bear.” So. Okay. We’ll set the shirt with the rest of our button-up shirts and just kinda get used to seeing it again, maybe. Or maybe I’ll purposely wear that shirt on a day where I know I’ll be busy and focused on other things so I can wear the shirt and brain can get used to the feeling of it again without dwelling on the other things that it’s trying to remind me of, and I can show brain the shirt is safe. (I really like that shirt. It reminds me of ones that Chris wears internally.)

So it’s… not smooth. It’s kinda a mess at times. I’ve cried and had to grip my own skin as tight as I can just to remind myself I’m still here at times. But it’s actually… okay.

And those episodes are already becoming less frequent, and when they happen, they aren’t enormous meltdown episodes. Most of the time, it’s just me sort of metaphorically sitting my own brain down and saying “hey, you seem upset. What’s up?”

And, like - I have not had replay flashbacks past that first day, actually. I have… present-but-actually-manageable anxiety. We’ve had much-less-scary traumatic events that have left us torn up for days, weeks, months, years... I had one, maybe two nightmares, and the second was actually not very alarming, it was more of just… a dream that incorporated elements of the job. And the first was actually about the regional manager, not the attacker. I’m already back to my normal sleeping schedule and complaining about everything and rambling about how I hate microsoft and I’m going to install Linux on one of my tablets and I’ve got plans to visit friends in October and - like - life is actually going on. And it’s not like it didn’t happen - there are effects, and I’m talking about them with my friends and my therapist and my housemates.

I don't know. My head's still spinning, but still, for the first time, I feel like I’m actually able to sit with myself and understand a little more of what is going on and why. And it’s only been a week since this happened.

And… launching into a bit more philosophical rambling again: this is why the bear-in-a-forest philosophy is becoming so personally important. It’s not a magic fix. Nothing is. There is a lot I still don't have figured out, and honestly a lot I think I sometimes think I have figured out that I really don't, and I'm having to talk about it constantly. I’m having to carefully sit down with seriously scary topics that my brain is terrified of, and put in a lot of fucking work to figure out what to do with it and look at what's actually there and what I'm being told even if I really fucking don't like it sometimes.

And I could have just said “alright, yeah, it makes total sense that I feel unsafe,” and then done things to make myself feel more safe without trying to dig into “okay, but what are you really scared of?” and maybe I would’ve found something that worked alright enough to get to sleep, and then I’d say after that, “well, it makes total sense that my brain registers this as a traumatic event; I have PTSD already, my brain’s kind of already wired to be hypersensitive to some things…” and kind of… y’know, more or less stopped there and shifted into “management mode” like we have with every other traumatic event in our lives. I’m having PTSD symptoms, and therapy and medications and this list of coping skills is how I’m supposed to handle it, and if it’s continually difficult, well, yeah it’s going to be difficult, honey, did you think PTSD was easy? You’re experiencing normal PTSD symptoms!

But… I’m not. PTSD as a discrete condition was constructed from a collection of third-party observations of real problems into a… not-always-accurate-and-probably-culturally-dependent-and-debatably-not-a-pathological-medical-condition “disorder” by humans, most of them white cishet xtian men in decently-paying white-collar jobs who did not understand why people not like them were reacting to things they way they were.

To use a specific historical example: Why were so many housewives decades ago given anxiety diagnoses and prescribed Valium? Well, one reason, by my understanding, is that they were stuck in rapidly changing times and being told they should be happy and content caring for children while their husband works while they have minimal freedoms and no financial agency and and and - and of course they were anxious, dumbass. They’re being told a prescribed domestic fantasy will make them happy and then it doesn’t and they’re dismissed even medically if they manage to figure out “okay but I don’t want this.” And there were probably many many who had internalized that belief of “this should make me happy” who did not actually manage to figure out the “why.”

And then you have doctors in charge who couldn’t see that there were actually reasons their neurologies were responding like that, and let me tell you, internalized belief is hellish to try to detangle, because it creates so many layers of your own denial to the point where all those housewives were probably feeling completely insane. If they believed if they had children and a husband and and and whatever that they “should” be happy, and they aim for that - and then they aren’t happy and feel anxious and hellish, well, yeah! “Oh, you aren’t crazy, though, you have an anxiety disorder. Here, have some valium.” Fucking lord and gd.

And - to really get on my soapbox for a second, oftentimes I think we, the people struggling with the real actual underlying problems that get labeled PTSD, are not always sure how and why we’re reacting to things, but in the right circumstances and with the right supports and approach, and a lot of practice and patience, I think anybody can figure it out, and do so a hell of a lot better and more accurately and helpfully and in ways that incorporate a lot more of the bigger picture of why our own human experiences can be like this way better than the DSM can.

…I do think finding a therapist who will help and encourage digging into the what and why without stopping at “well, you have XYZ!” is, uh, really worth it, though. Again, I am a big proponent of therapy, actually - but also a big proponent of thinking critically about that therapy and making sure it’s helpful for you.

So. Yeah, we kind of had our life threatened with a gun a week ago or so, and it’s weirdly fine. Not in the sense of “everything is sunshine and rainbows,” but in the sense of - I feel like I know where I am in this, and why, and I have supports, and I am, for once in my life, not feeling like I have to fight my own body and brain about it. There is a LOT I don't have figured out still, on a lot of things - but still, I am okay.

Oh, and physically, we’re totally fine. Guy barely touched us - although he did shove us when he, uh, I guess didn’t think we were moving fast enough. For context, we have mobility issues and used a wheeled walker at that job. Eheh. Wherever you are, my guy, you had to have had some shit luck and a lot of desperation to do that, and even though I hope I never see your face again, I hope you figure some of your own shit out, for what it’s worth. And I hope you get a better source of income than robbing small shops’ cash registers.

There’s… also technically more to it, since I’m also not the only one in this household/brain. And a few others of us have reacted to it differently, too! But - I might let them say their own words on it. For now, though - heh. Not to be too much of a batshit mad person about it, but there’s also a bit of fascination on my own part to be seeing all of this happening in real-time. I’d been developing this “survival wiring bear-in-a-forest” perspective philosophy for a while, talking to a lot of people, reading books (if you need a good book rec, What My Bones Know by Stephanie Foo is incredibly good - it’s a CPTSD memoir that I really like) - but talking about things in the abstract is one thing, and even applying it to a past event is still its own thing, too. I’m not going to purposefully put myself in a dangerous and traumatizing situation just for the sake of studying my own reactions to the trauma, obviously, but - well, if it happened, I might as well.

Pretty interesting, I think. Thank you for reading. <3

jvl, mental health, essay