Please keep in mind that all I can speak to are my own experiences, reflections, and ponderings; these are things that ring true to me.

Before we get to ears, let’s talk about what’s between them – that big, beautiful brain that just got bonked. Mental health HAS to be one of your considerations in recovery because it simply cannot be unaffected (which isn’t to say that a hit to your mental health is always going to be obvious). You’ve literally injured your brain, the seat of who you are. You’ve wounded it physically, chemically, and psychologically. We are holistic creatures, which means that the overused cliché is also completely accurate: mental health is health.

After dozens of concussions and years of therapy, I only just grew to understand that trauma is trauma, regardless of the form it takes. Head trauma (brain injuries) and heart trauma (mental health injuries, if you will) are both trauma, and as such, it has served me poorly to not apply concepts for addressing one to the other as well. In Brain Blame Games, part two., I shared about how reframing my perspective, particularly regarding deficits and limitations, made “such a tremendous difference”, and that absolutely still holds true (6+ years later!). However, it wasn’t until yesterday that I realized reframing my thoughts wasn’t the only change that transpired; what allowed for healthy, lasting change was moving from desperation to eradicate to striving to integrate.

Earlier this week, I was conversing with a wise man I am honored to count as a friend. In addition to being a top-notch human, he’s also a skilled counselor. I asked about a book I saw on his desk and was introduced to We All Have Parts, an excellent book on “healing trauma with internal family systems.” It’s a profound yet unintimidating book, and there are lots of lovely things I could say about it, but suffice it to say that the book made an impression on me. This elegantly simple little book helped me realize that the real shift was from a mission of eradication to a desire for integration. After years of fighting to eradicate the scars and marks of trauma, I was finally introduced to the concept of integrating the messages my somatic system is trying to send into my responses.

Here’s how I see eradication vs integration:

Eradication says that trauma responses resurfacing mean you’re already drowning; integration says that trauma responses resurfacing mean your system is trying to keep you afloat for as long as possible.

Eradication provokes fear and establishes negative connotations; integration provokes self-reflection and establishes positive connotations.

There’s no real choice to be made.
Logic demands it; acceptance and partnership are key.

Consider this: my ears ring all the time now, sometimes soft like the bell on a kitten, sometimes overbearing like an 8th century church bell. It used to make me angry; suddenly, it felt like work to listen. Eventually, begrudgingly, I detected patterns and accepted that my ears aren’t ringing to piss me off – they’re ringing to get me to listen up, to pay attention.  Something is wrong; my brain’s warning light has come on, so to speak.  I learned to appreciate the tinnitus and it has become a tool I can’t live without – I have a gauge for my brain wired into my ears! Instead of suddenly sputtering to a stop, I can now better calculate my current and forecasted capacity. It buys me time and helps me make informed decisions…or at least the best, most informed decision my broken brain is capable of making at the time. I have grown from getting suddenly stuck to understanding how to use the tools I have to efficiently maintain momentum and forward motion.

It turns out my integrative response to my tinnitus should also be the modality I employ on behalf of my mental health, too. The concept of integrating these somatic messages makes perfect sense. It also makes obvious that choosing eradication has inadvertently left me unprepared and caught unaware when trauma resurfaces. As someone who craves efficiency and always strives to make informed decisions, integration then becomes the only worthwhile choice. I’m trapped in a symbiotic relationship with this brain for the rest of my life; I may as well make sure it’s effective, because it’s clearly not going to stop trying to help (whether I like it or not)!