[“The neurobiological lens also resulted in another paradigm shift: if the brain and body are inherently adaptive, then the legacy of trauma responses must also reflect an attempt at adaptation, rather than evidence of pathology. Through that neurobiological lens, what appears clinically as stuckness and resistance, untreatable diagnoses, or character-disordered behavior simply represent how an individual’s mind and body adapted to a dangerous world in which the only “protection” was the very same caretaker who endangered him or her. Each symptom was an ingenious solution by the body to create some semblance of safety for the developing child or endangered adult.
The trauma-related issues with which the client presents for help, I now believe, are in truth a “red badge of courage” that tell the story of what happened even more eloquently than the events each individual consciously remembers. As I came to be known as an expert in treating trauma, increasing numbers of clients sought me out for consultation, asking, “Why am I not getting better? My therapist and I have a wonderful relationship, but none of my symptoms are diminishing. Am I doing the wrong kind of therapy? Or is there something wrong with me?” Time after time, as I heard from clients and therapists what had been tried and failed, I could not find a “mistake” or misguided choice of treatment. More often, what could be seen from the consultant’s perspective was something both therapist and client could not see: the client was fragmented. What it had taken to adapt was a splitting of self and identity sufficiently severe that the individual’s inner world had become a war zone.
What I also noticed was the relief these clients experienced as I educated them about dissociative splitting as a normal adaptation to trauma. First describing to them the theory of Structural Dissociation (Van der Hart, Nijenhuis & Steele, 2006), I would then translate their struggles using the language of parts and the language of animal defense survival responses, the cornerstone of the Structural Dissociation theory. Often, as I spoke, I observed a look of recognition on their faces, as if I were telling them nothing new but simply giving them a language to describe at long last what they already recognized but had no words to explain. Rather than feeling stigmatized or “crazier,” the Structural Dissociation model seemed to be reassuring to them. Its central principle, that splitting had simply allowed them to adapt and survive more successfully in an unsafe world, helped even very proud, narcissistic individuals to experience the fragmentation as a validation of their survival, not further proof of their defectiveness.
As I worked in this way with a range of clients, it became increasingly clear that when they “adopted” or came to love their hurt, lost, and lonely parts, something remarkable happened. Their self-disparagement, self-hatred, and disconnection began spontaneously to yield to self-compassion. Whereas the idea of being “nice,” “taking care of” or being “compassionate” to themselves was met with disgust and avoidance, every client could be helped to “see” his or her child parts and to extend kindness and care. And as they developed internal attachment relationships to these young selves, I could see them healing.”]
janina fisher, from healing the fragmented selves of trauma survivors: overcoming internal self-alienation, 2017
