Scientists unmask a piece in the puzzle of how the inheritance of traumas is mediated

Scientists unmask a piece in the puzzle of how the inheritance of traumas is mediated.

Uhm…. this just in – and unfortunately not from the “good news” section…

(Maybe this related reading is of importance in this context, too)

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5 thoughts on “Scientists unmask a piece in the puzzle of how the inheritance of traumas is mediated

  1. yep, the aftermath of early trauma just keep on giving….so even exceptional parents who were traumatized early on can pass along some of their suffering, second-hand, so to speak. When oh when will human cultures start to take PREVENTION of early trauma more seriously??? I guess the focus on repairative methods will continue to take precedence until they finally figure our that the damage from extreme early trauma just cannot be undone, no matter how much we all wish that could be an actually possibility. Until then, social structures, laws, and institutions will keep on churning out the life-long victim/survivors that society make a significant and lucrative income off while attempting a variety of “treatments” and “punishments” (since so many early trauma survivors end up in prison for, say, drug-related crimes. The system finds all manner of creative ways to keep on punishing survivors in the name of “social justice.” The system is in massive denial about the prevalence and long-term fallout from early extreme trauma—and sadly it is in most people’s social/financial interests to maintain that denial in favor of the social status quo,

    • There’s nothing I could add to your comment, hopefulandfree. I’m afraid, you nailed it. Arriving at this devastating insight for the gazillionth time has all kinds of equally devastating effects on me. In private, I’m losing it almost every day now. And why not? It’s REAL grief over the (early) loss of self. The self that I could have and should have been was lost from those early events. I take it, you see your history similarly, telling from your reply here.

      It’s a travesty, all that lost potential….but then, the system doesn’t care much about that, as long as they find a way to make money from us. And be it in a penetentiary. (which probably is, why they are frequented to the brim with “repeat offenders”…. 😦 This is a nightmare!)

      • I guess I don’t try to imagine the “me” I would or could have been without the trauma. It’s much simpler to just imagine the me I could be right now while living in a system of social justice that offers mutual aid and compassion to those of us who, for instance, have our threat response systems set perpetually on “freeze mode” (unless simple and cheap phsychopharamceutical interventions are made legal and accessible.) Hell, even my Grandma and her mama before her could obtain, cheaply and easily, their weekly supply of paragoric syrup or similar opiate-based tincture for use when the “vapors” (flashbacks, for instance) made their participation in everyday life unbearable. When Grandma’s opiate tincture became illegal, she took the only dignified way out of her impossible existence: she starved herself to death. But by god, the authorities would love to boast in such a case: “praise god she didn’t have to die like a common junkie!”

      • I’m not ready to make it that easy for everybody. They’re going to have to put up with me for a while longer. But by god, yes – I wish I had access to affordable relief. So far, only booze and eating binges are available. But given my gout condition that’s not really an option, either… 😦

  2. Reblogged this on Late.Shift and commented:

    (Trigger warning when reading…)
    In the aftermath of this post and comments thread, I believe I have arrived at an insight I may have been trying my best to be in denial about throughout my adult life and which I was fixing to arrive at denial over again as a bearable way of navigating life, where ‘bearable’ means to say a life of a nature, where I get to blend in with the rest as best as possible instead of perpetually standing out with all my limitations and emotional disabilities. And now I clearly seem to see for the first time, how it’s hopeless to arrive at that idealistic idea. Because my concept of self follows the loss of dignity from early on – or impaired dignity at the very least. Loss of dignity – I think I may have identified this as the root of the problem that is ‘me’ – or rather: What specific version of ‘me’ I have come out as (different from the one I could have and should have become, needless to say…). In other, almost brutal words: I seem to ‘live’ on the basic understanding that I don’t deserve dignity – because that dignity could and would have been taken from me any given minute and for reasons I was unable to find. I was made understand that I was more of ‘thing’ rather than a human being. In all fairness: This idea was brought (back) to my attention by another fellow soul searcher.

    So where does that leave me, leave us? I’m afraid, I don’t have good news in that regard. Because while most or all methods of treatment seem to focus on undoing as much damage as possible with the ultimate goal of getting us ‘up to speed’ with the rest of the – largely unaffected, unharmed – population, they all seem to overlook that loss of dignity can’t be fixed. Sure, you can ACT as if you felt worthy, you may learn to interact with people on eyes’ level. But can I, can we really FEEL it? Isn’t the memory of abuse and utter degradation always present in our subsconscious?

    Telling from my own recent experience that seems to shatter each and every little progress I thought I had made – and progress earned through brutal self-control, discipline, almost going against myself in order to ‘get somewhere’ – I’d have to answer myself with ‘Yes’ – the ingrained memory of inferiority, of being something less than human is omnipresent and never really vanishes.

    I believe that’s what I partially noticed for the first time upon finishing Alice Miller’s book “The Drama of the Gifted” – upon concluding the read, I felt a suckerpunch I wasn’t prepared to. Because her prognosis stayed rather gloomy. In a nutshell, her conclusion also is that the suffered damage can never be undone. The best she has or had to offer was the insight that a post-malum (post-damage) act of violence towards the child had to be acknowledged or ‘validated’ in order for healing to become possible. She offers creative approaches as to how this validation can be achieved even if the original perpetrators aren’t willing, capable or otherwise unavailable – for having passed on, for example – to (re-) validate the then-victim.
    This may or may not work – I can’t say, because to this day I have gone without said validation – and my perpetrators in the form of former caretakers ARE still alive. But to this day, they have denied me the experience of starting to come to terms and a shred of inner peace with my horrible history.
    In fact, it’s the other way ’round: For as often as I (have to) interact with them, they keep adding insult to injury. The latest aggravation – and so far and by far the most devastating one – is them contemplating to disinherit me on account of the situation I have arrived at. That situation is marked by utter poverty and depending on social welfare in order to have housing, (minimal, cheap) food and some household commodities. Anything else even remotely resembling a life – like e.g. getting to socialize, meet with other people, even just casually, – I can’t afford to do for simple lack of means. In other words: I’m put in the out-box on every level, emotionally, financially, and on days like this, even spiritually.

    The realization that their decision to rate their material accomplishments over my well being AGAIN set of a horrendous trigger that seems to eradicate everything I have been relentlessly – and WITHOUT the help of a therapist – working at (largely) on my own or sometimes finding support – as in: affirmations of my thoughts and feelings – from fellow ‘travellers’ here and there. And now this! That final blow that says: ‘You’re less important to us than the house we kept in shape’ (they haven’t even built it, my paternal Grandfather did). That suckerpunch that reads ‘You’re a thing to us that merits no more consideration than all the other things we accumulated’. No, it’s even worse: That course of action says ‘You’re here, because we wanted you to fix US – and that’s the only validation you’ll ever see from us’.

    Sure, to any outside observer, these ramblings will sound like having gone crazy. I can’t blame them! I AM going crazy with this utterly devastating insight. Or was I REALLY missing something else here? For cryin’ out loud – where’s a tiny shred of compassion for my situation, which I haven’t exactly brought upon myself from poor choices – as e.g. concepts of ‘radical forgiveness’ seem to postulate (again, such theories or ideologies just take the abuse to another level in my view)? Where’s the validation of the HUMAN BEING in me who is seeing the hardest of times already and has to cope with that impossible situation largely by himself? (even my use of third-person language speaks volumes of my concept of self, doesn’t it?

    Again, I must find: Consciousness is a curse! The more of it you got, the worse it becomes. This recent finding makes me sick to the gut in ways that I can’t even put into words any more. All I can say is this: I wish to ‘god’ I hadn’t been born… Wish me luck. I will need it (if for nothing else, then for keeping my – masochistic – impulse control and not going postal on them)

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