Trauma + Me: Understanding the Invisible Wounds (#1)

Hello, friends—

If you’ve been with me on this journey, you know I’m no stranger to tough topics. Today, we’re diving headfirst into one that’s as personal as it is universal: trauma. It’s a word we hear a lot these days—on the news, in conversations, and even in our own heads. But what is it really? And why does it leave such a lasting mark on our lives?

Trauma is complicated, messy, and sometimes hard to talk about. But I promise you this: by the end of this post, you’ll understand it in a way that’s clear, relatable, and maybe even a little surprising.

Let’s explore the invisible wounds trauma leaves behind and how they shape our minds and bodies.

What Is Trauma?

Let’s start with a simple definition: Trauma is your body and mind’s reaction to something deeply distressing or disturbing. Notice I said “reaction,” not “event.” That’s because trauma isn’t about what happens—it’s about how you process what happens. Two people can go through the same experience, and while one might walk away relatively unscathed, the other could carry the scars for a lifetime.

The American Psychological Association defines trauma as “an emotional response to a terrible event like an accident or natural disaster.” But let’s be real—trauma doesn’t always look like a Hollywood blockbuster moment. It can be the slow burn of neglect, the sting of harsh words, or the gut punch of betrayal. Trauma doesn’t discriminate. It’s personal, and it shows up in ways you might not expect.

Here’s an analogy: Imagine your brain is a smoke alarm. Its job is to warn you when there’s a fire. Trauma is like that alarm going off even when there’s no smoke. Your brain, in its effort to protect you, becomes hyper-alert, seeing danger where none exists. This might look like constant anxiety, difficulty trusting others, or avoiding situations that remind you of past pain.

Trauma in Medical Terms

Now, let’s nerd out for a second. Trauma has a physical impact on the brain and body—this isn’t just emotional fluff. When you experience trauma, your brain releases a flood of stress hormones like cortisol and adrenaline. These chemicals are great for escaping a saber-toothed tiger (or a particularly aggressive email), but when they stick around too long, they wreak havoc.

Here’s what’s happening upstairs:

• The Amygdala (Your Brain’s Fear Center): Trauma supercharges this little almond-shaped part of your brain, making it hyperactive. It’s why you might feel jumpy or overly reactive.

• The Prefrontal Cortex (Your Logic Center): This is the part that helps you think rationally. Trauma can dampen its activity, making it harder to think clearly or control emotions.

• The Hippocampus (Your Memory Keeper): Trauma shrinks this area, which is why traumatic memories can feel fragmented or disjointed.

The result? Your brain is stuck in survival mode, even when the threat is long gone.

Trauma doesn’t wear a nametag. It doesn’t introduce itself as “Hi, I’m your unresolved childhood issue.” Instead, it shows up disguised as:

• Anxiety and Hypervigilance: You’re always on edge, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

• Avoidance: You steer clear of anything that reminds you of your pain.

• Physical Symptoms: Chronic pain, headaches, or stomach issues that seem to have no cause.

• Emotional Numbness: You feel disconnected from others or even from yourself.

How Trauma Took Hold in My Life

For me, trauma wasn’t just one event—it was an accumulation of experiences. Twenty-two years in prison, including six years in solitary confinement, created an environment where survival wasn’t just a mindset; it was a necessity. My trauma began long before prison, but those years sharpened it into something almost unrecognizable.

In solitary, your thoughts become your roommates, and they aren’t always friendly. I became hypervigilant—always waiting for the next threat, even when there wasn’t one. Every knock, every creak in the walls, felt like a warning. My brain had learned to see danger everywhere, and it didn’t know how to stop.

But here’s the kicker: trauma doesn’t just live in your mind. It lives in your body, in your habits, and in the way you think about yourself and the world. It wasn’t until years later that I realized how deeply my trauma had rewired me. My reactions, my fears, my relationships—they were all shaped by those invisible scars.

Awareness

The first part of healing is simple, but it’s not easy: awareness. You can’t fix what you don’t know is broken. For me, this looked like examining my behaviors and asking some hard questions:

• Why did I feel so uneasy in quiet, safe spaces?

• Why did I assume the worst about people’s intentions?

• Why was I so quick to lash out or withdraw?

These weren’t easy questions to sit with, but they were necessary. I started to notice patterns in my thoughts—ones that didn’t serve me anymore. For example, I realized I was always scanning for threats, even when I was at home or surrounded by people who cared about me.

My trauma had convinced me that I couldn’t trust anyone, not even myself.

Becoming aware of these patterns was like turning on a light in a dark room. It didn’t fix things, but it gave me a starting point. I could finally see what needed to change.

Here’s the thing: trauma isn’t just for people who’ve been through extreme situations. According to the Substance Abuse and Mental Health Services Administration (SAMHSA), 70% of adults in the U.S. have experienced at least one traumatic event in their lives. That’s over 223 million people. If trauma were a club, it’d be one of the most exclusive memberships out there—and none of us would want to join.

So, why am I starting this series with the basics? Because understanding trauma is the first step in healing it. You can’t fight an enemy you don’t recognize. My goal with this series is to help you see trauma for what it is—not as a life sentence, but as a challenge that can be faced, understood, and overcome.

In the coming posts, we’ll dive deeper. We’ll talk about PTSD, how trauma affects relationships, and the tools I’ve found most helpful in my journey. We’ll mix science with stories and facts with feelings because that’s how healing happens—by connecting what we know with what we feel.

What’s Next?

For now, I’ll leave you with this: Trauma may leave scars, but those scars don’t define you. They’re a part of your story, not the whole thing. And together, we’re going to write the next chapter.

Until next time,

Troy Rienstra