Over 6.5 years, I was traumatized by 13 therapists. Even the intake, first session, and attempt to explain my history put my nervous system back into the same defensive state. In session, I frequently encountered misattunement that prompted their disbelief, dismissal, minimization, and attempts to pathologize and gaslight me. The hospital’s psychologist twice blew off my concerns about intensifying suicidal ideations from Lexapro. I ended up in the hospital. A different psychologist tried to convince me I shouldn’t be upset that medical abuse destroyed everything I had worked to build because, “at least, you had it for a while.” His colleague insisted that I needed to take on starting a food co-op, though I was flattened and barely functioning. An intern at a rape crisis center asked if I had a will to live, right after I told her how I had been fighting for my life for years. A Somatic Experiencing psychologist broke down crying and admitted she didn’t “have the bandwidth” for my somatic experience. The more I tried to find a therapist who would help and not harm, the higher my stress levels rose.
I stepped back and looked at it through a Relational Neuroscience lens. The basic principle is simple. Human regulation depends heavily on the relational environment. When the people around you repeatedly misattune, dismiss, or overpower your autonomy, the body learns that those environments are unsafe. Continuing to expose yourself to the same type of environment keeps the nervous system in protection mode.
When an environment repeatedly triggers threat responses, distance can be one of the most stabilizing steps a person can take while they rebuild safety elsewhere. I decided to stop going to therapy because even the stress of searching for a therapist was causing harm. Instead, I focused on applying Relational Neuroscience principles in my daily life. A big part of that was choosing to avoid relationships that were likely to destabilize me. In my experience, therapists were very likely to do that.
I focused on building regulation through safer relationships, predictable routines, and people who could meet me with basic respect and attunement. Initially, these had to be with healthcare practitioners because they had become my primary social contact. The trauma of repeated medical abuse and neglect had severed my numerous prior connections and destroyed my sense of safety. I needed authentic care, so I worked to build a team of practitioners who intentionally participate in my recovery. With their support, my body began to settle. By shaping my relational environment more carefully, I was able to regain enough sense of safety to start building new relationships outside of medicine.
Life is much better now.
