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Content Warning: This piece discusses the later impact of childhood trauma and the recovery process, and uses emotive language and imagery, but does not go into details of specific traumatic events.
Photo by charlesdeluvio on Unsplash
For me, one of the most difficult aspects of discovering I was autistic was coming to terms with how much trauma I had accumulated over my lifetime. I knew I had been through difficult times but suddenly I felt overwhelmed by everything that had happened to me. While I was exploring my autistic identity, I realised I also had symptoms of Complex Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (CPTSD).
Metaphorically speaking, the autism assessment process reopened my past wounds with surgical precision, then left me bleeding and alone. It was agonisingly painful to realise that many of my difficulties in life were not due to my own ‘deficits’, but due to how others had responded to me when I was struggling and at my most vulnerable. I have some professional experience supporting autistic children and I know that they need patience, empathy and understanding - but I had received quite the opposite in my childhood. Early on, I learned that it was not safe to show my feelings or turn to other people for help.
In hindsight I believe that my parents’ undiagnosed neurodivergence and complex mental health needs (combined with the lack of support and information available to them at the time) meant they didn’t have the capacity to look after me in the way that I needed, but also as an autistic kid I was a threat to their own masking. In addition, they weren’t able to provide a safe, stable home environment and I accumulated a handful of ‘Adverse Childhood Experiences’.
Learning about childhood trauma and CPTSD finally gave me an explanation for my seemingly unpredictable bursts of intense emotions. I wasn’t just ‘going mad’, I was experiencing emotional flashbacks. It also gave me hope that healing and recovery might be possible for me, that I might not be at the mercy of these frightening episodes forever. But the only way to get better was to sit with the feelings that I had been running from my whole life.
This realisation was like teetering on the edge of an abyss, not knowing exactly what lay at the bottom but knowing the only way through was to leap off the cliff, confront whatever monsters lurked below, and drag myself up the other side. It took me a long time to build up the courage to take the leap, but eventually I realised that the only way out was through. What follows are the threads of my individual journey - these are not necessarily in chronological order but are intertwined and weave into each other.
Self Help
There are many self-help measures that have helped me through the healing process, even before I knew that’s what it was. In no particular order: journalling, yoga, meditation, exercise, long baths, long walks in the countryside, rest and sleep (trauma recovery takes up an enormous amount of energy) and more besides. Bit by bit, I began to soothe my frazzled nervous system and connect with myself and my feelings.
I also found two books that really helped me understand what I was going through and find ways of dealing with it: Complex PTSD: From Surviving to Thriving by Pete Walker and The Body Keeps the Score by Bessel van der Kolk.
Self Compassion
Gradually, and with conscious practice, I started to feel more compassion for myself and let go of the toxic shame that had haunted me for decades. Then I began to realise that one of the people who had been hardest on myself, was me. I had internalised all the messages I had received in childhood, so that even after I had escaped from the parental home, I was still repeating those messages to myself internally. The more I struggled, the harder I criticised myself.
At first I was angry with myself and horrified that I had treated myself so cruelly. Then I realised I could never have done anything different. It was a coping strategy I had developed in order to survive in a hostile environment.
Now, not only have I learned how to be kinder to myself when I’m struggling, but also to forgive myself for the times when I couldn’t. And now I can let go of those old coping strategies and develop new ones.
Reparenting Myself
My parents were not able to parent me in the way that I needed, so as an adult I’ve had to figure out how to take care of myself in a healthy way. It felt really corny but I had to think about my ‘inner child’ and what she needed to feel safe and loved.
I had to learn how to identify and meet my own needs. I really had no clue, I was so used to being stressed and exhausted all the time that it just felt normal to me. I started using an app on my phone to measure my Heart Rate Variability (low HRV is linked with trauma), and that really validated that I needed much more rest. As a recovering people pleaser, I was so bad at understanding and looking after myself, I needed an app to tell me to take a nap!
This was the start of a process of learning to accept myself as I am, stop trying to ‘push through’ no matter what, and look after my needs as an autistic person.
Image credit: @ yogaglo on Instagram
Relationships
One of the scariest parts of healing from relationship trauma is that you can’t do it all alone - at some stage you have to make yourself vulnerable to others. I started with my husband - despite being the person I trusted the most I still masked around him. I always pretended to be fine even when I was overwhelmed and really struggling. I would hold myself together for as long as I could, until having a meltdown or shutdown later. Instead, I started unmasking and communicating more (a simple statement but in reality a terrifying and difficult process). I finally allowed him to look after me in the way that I needed. In time, I also began to understand that he didn’t see me as a burden, and that it was ok to be myself in the relationship even when I was struggling. I consider myself very lucky to have such a supportive partner.
I also began to talk to other important people in my life about my needs, and started setting boundaries. I still find this difficult but it’s slowly getting easier with practice.
Therapy
I have been very fortunate to be able to arrange private trauma-informed ND-affirming therapy for myself over a long period of time, a privilege that I acknowledge is not available to everyone.
I’ve had a lot of bad therapy in the past that made me feel like I was a problem to be fixed, so it took a long time to build trust with my therapist and feel ready to open up. My guard was up so high that it was months before I could even begin to talk about the deeper trauma I had experienced.
My therapist taught me that my emotions are valid, and not the result of ‘irrational thinking’. She helped me to realise I was not evil for feeling relieved when my mother suddenly passed away when I was a teenager, or for cutting off contact with my dad in adulthood. She also helped me learn to take better care of myself instead of shaming myself for struggling.
Online Autistic Community
Despite never having met any of them in real life, the autistic people I have connected with online have been another important part of my healing and recovery process. There are many autistic people out there generously giving their time and energy to supporting others online. From people posting content in blogs or on social media, to those involved with ND-affirming charities and businesses, to peer support groups, they’ve all touched my life in different ways. Gradually I have been able to find groups that are a good fit for me, and people who are on the same wavelength.
From other autistic folks I get levels of acceptance, empathy and understanding that I have never experienced before. I can interact with them authentically, without masking or people-pleasing. I feel less isolated just knowing there are others out there like me, and I have learned so much about myself from them.
Managing Triggers
My nervous system still bears the invisible scars of things that happened in childhood, and getting triggered sometimes is inevitable. I can’t just turn it off. Nowadays, I try to avoid triggers where I can to protect my mental and physical health, but it’s not always possible.
When I get triggered, I try not to see it as a failure or shame myself for being ‘bad at recovery’. Instead I see it as an opportunity to give some attention to parts of myself that still need healing. I try to sit with the feelings that arise and notice the physical sensations in my body instead of pushing them down or trying to rationalise them away. Really feeling how badly I have been let down, how much I’ve missed out on, the gap between what I needed and what actually happened. Realising I deserved so much better. Often this comes with waves of grief and anger. With alexithymia this can be incredibly challenging and confusing, and takes a very long time to process. It can be intensely painful and overwhelming but eventually it passes and is released.
Image credit: @iuliastration via Instagram
Trauma Recovery and Healing
I now know that recovery will likely be a lifelong journey with ups and downs and I will never be ‘fixed’. I am by no means ‘cured’ but I do feel like I am moving into a new chapter in life. Things are definitely a lot better than they used to be, but sometimes it feels like peeling layers off an never ending onion; I deal with one issue only to discover another underneath.
As a busy parent it is not easy to carve out time for healing. For me it has become a higher priority over the past few years. I found that the autism assessment process reactivated suppressed feelings and brought everything back to the surface. I couldn’t ignore it any longer and I needed to address it. I’ve had to make time for it.
It is extremely hard, messy and emotional work, but it is important to me because I want to break the cycle of generational trauma and avoid passing that legacy on to my children as much as I possibly can. I know that working on my own healing is an important part of this, and although it is important to do it for myself, I’m also doing it for them. And when I falter, thinking of them gives me the motivation to keep going.
Image credit: @revelatori on Instagram
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