How Trauma Affects Memory

Started by Kizzie, August 14, 2018, 05:27:43 PM

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GoSlash27

#15
Hannah,
 "I don't know how much of what might be dissociation. And can dissociation be "I'm not all here"? Is that what it's like?"
 I had a heck of a time grasping the concept of "dissociation" myself because I've been dissociated most of my life. They always try to explain it in terms of comparison to not dissociated, which didn't do me much good.
 I'm an extreme case, so I'm the wrong person to ask.  :Idunno:
 I don't know how much of what might be dissociation. And can dissociation be "I'm not all here?"
 Fundamentally, yes. That's at the core of what dissociation is; living life on autopilot and not being present in the moment. But whether it's what you're dealing with, I have no idea.
 Is that what it's like?
 Not for me, no. But as I said, I'm an extreme case who's dissociated most of the time. I experience it as the damage that it's caused. Disjointed memories and alienated sense of "self". Sometimes I feel like a spectator following "me" around and documenting "my" life without any active participation. I can't look into my own eyes in a mirror or take a selfie without feeling unsettled.
 I spend a lot of time obsessively trying to piece together my muddled memories. *HERE*! *This* little detail in this memory is something I can look up, put a date to, find some context.

 That's what it feels like for me, but for most it's not that bad.
 
Best,
-Slashy 

 

HannahOne

Haha, I agree, they try to explain it as opposed to "not dissociated." Which hasn't helped.

I see what you mean about experiencing dissociation as the damage that it's caused, difficulty with sense of self.

Thank you for sharing your experience. I am going to keep looking into it. It's difficult to understand one's own phenomenology... by definition what I experience is "normal" to me. It helps to compare it to other people's experience of what dissociation _is_ for them.

TheBigBlue

Your descriptions were very clear and thought-provoking, even where they don't line up exactly with my own experience. Reading them sparked my curiosity. I hope it's okay to share a summary of what I think I understood from looking into memory and CPTSD - offered loosely as "take what fits, leave the rest." 🙂

Many people with trauma histories describe dissociation not as "becoming someone else," but as a sense of not being fully here - detached, foggy, or partially offline while still feeling like themselves.

This kind of description often comes up alongside experiences like being present enough to function in the moment, but later not remembering everyday events or conversations, or forgetting why certain plans or decisions were made.

In clinical definitions, dissociation includes experiences such as depersonalization and derealization - feeling detached from oneself and/or from surroundings - while identity and reality testing remain intact.

Dissociation can therefore be experienced more as absence or blankness than as feeling like a different person. Descriptions such as "I'm not here" or "only part of me is online" are consistent with dissociative phenomena, even when someone otherwise feels like themselves and remembers their life overall.

Trauma research also distinguishes between different memory systems, often described in broad terms as narrative or autobiographical memory (facts and events) and sensory-emotional or implicit memory (felt sense, emotion, bodily response). Under stress, these systems may be poorly integrated. This can look like remembering what happened without feeling connected to it, noticing that neutral or even positive experiences don't seem to "stick," or having strong intellectual or academic memory alongside gaps in everyday recall. This pattern is different from repression or global amnesia; the information may exist, but it wasn't encoded or integrated in a way that makes it easily retrievable later.

Research in neuroscience and psychology also describes state-dependent memory, meaning recall can vary depending on whether the internal state at retrieval matches the state at encoding. In everyday life, this can show up as decisions made in one state that don't make sense later, forgetting the reasoning behind plans or actions, or intentions and motivations feeling disconnected from the present self. The memory itself may still exist, but access to it can depend on internal state.

Clinical literature on dissociation and depersonalization also notes that dissociative experiences can occur alongside intact reality testing and strong cognitive functioning. Many people show high academic or professional performance, strong verbal or analytical skills, and efficient information processing, while still experiencing gaps in presence or embodiment, uneven continuity of experience, or difficulty staying oriented to everyday activities or environments. This reflects uneven impact across systems, not contradiction or lack of insight.

Seen this way, these patterns can help shift the question from "What's wrong with me?" to "How did my system learn to function under long-term stress?"
 :hug:

NarcKiddo

My dissociation is very much "I'm not all here" as opposed to being taken over completely by a different part, which I understand can happen in people with DID. Fro me the left brain/right brain split makes sense in connection with my dissociation. My left brain continues with the functional activities of resembling a normal and capable human adult. I am able to respond apparently normally and appropriately - but can barely remember afterwards what was going on. The one time I actively know I dissociated during a therapy session is a case in point. I felt the dissociation starting and told my T. We did what we thought was enough to bring adult NK fully back, but it didn't happen. My T kept checking in that I was fully present and I lied convincingly. What I remember of the session was the experience of being there but not there, but I instantly and completely forgot the content when I went to write it up immediately after the session. It is possible T may have noticed more if our sessions were in person rather than Zoom, but I kind of doubt it.

Like Hannah I have a very good short term academic memory and was quite easily able to retain enough knowledge to pass exams at a decent grade, only to forget it all afterwards. Although that is actually not quite fair because I now find myself remembering quite a lot of random information from my schooldays that has been firmly buried for years. I think I dissociated through most of my time at boarding school so whatever memories were being formed were locked down, whether academic or not, I suppose. My academic progress stalled noticeably when the subjects I took stopped being "learn the right answer and you will pass" to "what do you think about this? or How would you apply the knowledge to this situation?"

I actually kind of like situations where I can dissociate more fully without having to appear functional. Which probably sounds weird. But I had to have some MRI scans a while back. The first one was difficult because I dissociated to get through it. However they had put headphones on me with a radio station and I found it bothersome because of the voice of the announcer cutting in periodically. I dissociated more to get rid of the voice and then found myself totally ignoring instructions from the MRI operator, who was getting a bit stressed by my lack of response. The next time I refused any music or radio, which meant I could just float around in dissociation knowing that any voice I heard would require a response. It was much easier and actually quite relaxing.

GoSlash27

TheBigBlue,
 Yeah, that all seems to check out. While my personal autobiographical memories are a box full of random puzzle pieces from different puzzles (with some deliberately locked away), it never impacted my intellectual pursuits or ability to maintain and access an encyclopedic memory of scientific, technical, or historic facts. That stuff is all neatly organized on the shelves and cross- referenced in the card catalog.
 
 Best,
-Slashy

dollyvee

This is an interesting thread. I commented elsewhere that I feel like I had more than an photographic memory where I was able to "rewind time" until an incident of abuse from my m that didn't have any context for me. This was around the age of 7 I think. Now, I think I operate with things in boxes, that are sort of compartmentalized from each other, and I won't always remember doing something, or my interest in something, and it's more like a process of "moving forward" (maybe getting on with it) if that makes sense.

I'm reading a book called Mother Hunger right now and she talks a bit about brain development and memory.

For those of you interested in the brain, you may already know how stress impacts the temporal lobe—specifically the amygdala and hippocampus. Stress irritates the functioning of the amygdala, where empathy develops. Cortisol poisons the hippocampus, which makes sense of incoming data and memory processing. The brain is adapting, keeping the necessary biological processes going, like our heartbeat and breathing, but filtering out less critical processes, like memory and empathy. During a stressful event or moment, the brain literally ignores information secondary to survival.

(p. 158)

It must compartmentalize fear somewhere outside your consciousness so that bonding can happen. Over time, the brain shrinks danger signals, like a mother's shrill voice or furrowed brow, so you can tolerate her proximity. Pruning alters perception and protects you when you are small and dependent, but over time, your innate ability to detect or discern risky situations is twisted. In this way, neuroception is altered, which is why exposure to early betrayal puts you at a greater risk of further victimization. Maternal abuse is a devastating betrayal because not only do you miss out on essential nurturance, protection, and guidance, but your neuroception and protective instincts are also damaged. Since you are adapted to danger, situations that would frighten a regular person don't raise a red flag for you.

(p. 159)

Earning secure attachment comes from replacing the three essential maternal elements that you didn't have. To help your brain do this, you need a sense of history. How did you get here? Think back to your earliest memories with your mother. Was she affectionate with you? Could you rely on her when you were afraid? Do you think she was happy? Did she inspire you? Learning your story puts you in touch with the missing pieces so you can put them back together. With a story that explains your behavior and your feelings, energy for new decisions, dreams, and goals appears. Renewed focus is a sign that your attachment style is healing. Healing happens by knowing what you didn't have so you can fill your empty spirit with the right ingredients. We simply can't change what we don't know. Knowing happens in two ways: cognitively and emotionally. Reading and learning about Mother Hunger is cognitive. This is your left brain in action. Cognitive awareness is the first step. But to create lasting change, you must feel the wound—the sickening emptiness that yearns to be nurtured, protected, or guided. Most of us can't feel this pain without help. After a lifetime of protecting ourselves, the brain simply won't let go unless we are safe and supported.

McDaniel, Kelly. Mother Hunger: How Adult Daughters Can Understand and Heal from Lost Nurturance, Protection, and Guidance (pp. 168-169). (Function). Kindle Edition.

Perhaps acute experiences affect the brain and memory in a different way than repeated actions over time? I also thought the part about needing to go back and remember your history with your mother as a step to healing was interesting. I feel bodily, and mentally this is something I'm quite resistant to do.

TheBigBlue

Hi Dollyvee,
This is an interesting passage, and I can see why it resonates. There is solid evidence that chronic stress affects hippocampal-dependent memory processing and amygdala reactivity, and that early attachment contexts shape later neuroception and threat detection. On that level, the neuroscience itself isn't controversial.

At the same time, for me, I notice a strong internal resistance to how this section frames healing. From both my experience and what I understand from trauma research, the implied sequence:
- go back
- remember
- feel the wound
- then heal
isn't universal.

I've done a lot of historical reconstruction over the past year, and while that was crucial at certain points, I also reached a stage where adding more memory detail stopped changing meaning. What mattered more was understanding patterns and long-term adaptations, especially around parentification and asymmetric attachment injury (horizontal enmeshment, self-erasure).

That's where this framing feels a bit too simplified to me. It focuses largely on deprivation (what was missing), which may not fully capture developmental/relational injuries, e.g. those that are rooted in emotional overuse or responsibility for a parent. Those conditions shape the nervous system differently, and "going back to feel what I didn't get" can sometimes feel less clarifying than invasive.

I can absolutely see how this model might be deeply validating and helpful for others. I just wanted to add that there may be multiple valid paths through this work, and that the resistance I notice in myself can sometimes be information rather than blockage. :bigwink:
:hug: