In this story I experienced memory fragmentation due to a traumatic event. In later installments I will explain the process I went through to help reintegrate those memories. I have left reference links below if you are interested in researching PTSD induced memory fragmentation further. Thank you for taking the time to read and to support my work.
As my therapist broke it down for me, the beating my brother and I endured evoked a sufficiently intense emotional overwhelm that our brains tried to protect us by dissociating our awareness of the torture from the event itself. 60 years later, despite months of sessions recreating segments of the experience, it is still not a fully integrated narrative.
In our homes, whenever our appliances are attempting to draw too much power, circuit breakers interrupt the flow of electricity in order to protect the integrity and safety of the electrical system. For my brother and me, our trauma-induced internal circuit breakers tripped, fragmenting our post trauma memories of the event.
My brain tried to save me.
The story I’m describing involves non-sexual physical abuse. It is NOT my intention to trigger anyone who reads this. If you choose to skip this part as a way of protecting yourself, please do. I fully support your decision to do so.
My brother is tossed to one side of the room.
I can’t breathe as I feel the neck on my T-shirt tighten against my throat.
Did I hear my shirt rip?
I, too, get thrown to the same side as my brother.
I hear a whoosh as I watch the belt spin above my mother’s head.
There’s a hazy yellow glow in the room.
Why does the room look like this?
My mother is silhouetted, dark against the glowing ceiling.
My mother screams and screams but I have no idea what she’s saying.
Her arm raised, shadow-figured against the light, I have no thoughts.
It burns like nothing I’ve ever felt before or since.
No words, the animal me just screams.
The animal me cowers, tenses, braces.
The animal me is too scared to move, to get away, to run.
The animal me digs my nails into the carpet beneath me.
Every muscle tightens, every muscle braces, every muscle knows.
It’s coming.
There’s a leather slap right before my brother screams.
I hear the same slap.
It burns. It burns. It burns.
The animal me can’t talk.
The animal me only screams.
My brain silently functions.
“I’m sorry.”
“Stop!”
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”
And the strange yellow glow is starting to fade to a dark red, then burgundy and then it’s almost black as I don’t hear any more screaming. There’s no more shouting. There’s no more pain.
A circuit breaker tripped.
But I remember voices. Female voices jabbering, bubbling like boiling water.
I have no idea what they’re saying. But I remember the tone. It’s a hushed tone, a tone of disbelief, a tone of fear.
I can’t remember any more details.
Not this time.
This is a clinical explanation for PTSD and the resulting memory fragmentation.
It is thought that dissociative encoding, that is, incomplete initial processing of the traumatic experience, leads to the development and persistence of PTSD (Brewin, 2001; Brewin & Holmes, 2003; Ehlers & Clark, 2000; van der Kolk, 1987, 1994; van der Kolk, van der Hart, & Marmar, 1996)
Specifically, dissociation during the event prevents elaboration during encoding, which disrupts both memory storage and retrieval, consequently leading to PTSD. Typically, the memory disruption implicated in these theories is memory fragmentation, or abnormalities of sequence, coherence, and content in the trauma narrative. Fragmentation is thought to result from a lack of elaboration of the memory due to high emotion and dissociation during the traumatic experience (e.g., van der Kolk, 1987).van der Kolk BA. Psychological Trauma. American Psychiatric Press; Washington DC: 1987.
Oh Vero, I’m so sorry for your trauma but happy this resonates with you. Even after years of therapy work and guided meditation, I still have fragments that come up. I feel the same way you do, I wonder if surviving my trauma has given me the ability to conquer ultras—perseverance and determination. Thank you for being such a loving and caring friend. I hold you dearly.
Thank for sharing story which is both a sacrifice by you and an educational opportunity for your readers. Hopefully it will at least be good for a moment of catharsis