I'm starting to notice strong parallels between healing from trauma and hangovers, to the point that the two are lived out as very similar experiences in some cases.

I'll explain.

Our bodies contain living systems that maintain certain dynamic equilibria, and we call some of the discrepancies between the current condition and a state of equilibrium as "damage" or as similar terms, like a flesh wound is damage b/c it violates the integrity of the skin.

Such systems in general have access to a recovery mode (vs the usual activity mode), where it is put in a state of rest so that repairs and maintenance can be done. An example is sleep, where eg. the brain is flushed of the toxins it accumulates during the day functioning.

Pain is a strong body signal for damage incurred, and incentive for the individual to stop activity and enter a recovery phase. For example, with hangovers, the body signals the need to rest to repair the damage from the alcohol poisoning.

The mental/emotional systems possess similar dynamics (eg. grief as means to arrest normal functioning and open the opportunity to restructure inner+outer dynamics), but they are more prone to complications, in part because they are *more* equipped at dealing w/damage.

What happened to many of us is, as infants and children we receive blows we are not equipped to process and digest. What happens then is the enactment of a *containment* procedure, aimed at limiting the damage, and to ensure survival until a future point of possible healing.

Imagine someone got struck with a barbed arrow, that they didn't know how to remove without inflicting further tremendous damage. People around are just making things worse when asked for help; so what the victim does is break the shaft, cover up the wound, and try to move on.

Meanwhile the barbed tip hurts with every step; restricts range of movement; the wound heals poorly, and the victim learns not to touch it, or let anyone near it, for it only brings more pain. They develop fear that someone might touch it, and anger when someone pushes to do so.

This is also a metaphor for trauma. The unprocessed emotional charge of an event can plague the system for decades, as the first response was to cut off the payload, cut off the pain, cut off the memory, cut off a piece of soul, and ball it up, down in the depths of the psyche.

Fear and anger are the energies that surround the wound, so that it stays avoided, away from conscious awareness, and numbed, so the situation is "livable", and things are not made (much) worse; all in service of survival, and of staying functional.

Trauma also has somatic components, since everything is connected in living systems. Trauma is stored in the body, and the localized pain becomes locus of chronic muscle contraction, the active effort of containment manifesting in the body.

During a hangover, provided that the body is given what it needs to rebalance and recover (water, electrolytes), the best path to healing is to give in, to relax and to lean into the pain and to just let the body deal with it, instead of trying to fight it or to ignore it.

The pain is the body calling out the need for rest, for stillness, for the chance to engage recovery mode.

Such pain is present for emotional/mental systems too, but we are much more trained in chronically numbing ourselves to it and keep going on with our lives.

The process of healing from trauma is simple enough in theory: first, the damage source needs to be dealt with, at least temporarily (eg. moving away from abusive parents), and the system needs to be provided with the right resources and conditions to actually heal.

Then, one has to undo the contraction, unwrap the containment balls made of fear and anger—and release those energies—to access the pain within, and to let/make the healing happen while in recovery mode.

This process can have surprisingly somatic components: other than crying/laughter as means of unloading energy and helping processing, the release of "wrapper" energies can happen through body shakes, screaming, or other physical actions.

But then the pain comes, and it is important to respond correctly to it, in the opposite way to the usual contraction, which means relaxation; giving in; acceptance; equanimity; expansion; surrender through conscious breathing to the painful experience.

The pain can be very surprising to many, after so many years of repression (depression!). Paradoxically, for someone with trauma starting out with relaxation techniques, achieving real relaxation often means moving through feelings of unbearableness first, and then actual pain!

If you find you cannot ever truly relax, that's because pain awaits further down, and you've used all your life to push it out of awareness.

But just as it is wise to listen to the body's cries of pain, so we must reconnect with the pain we set aside if we want a chance to heal.

For further reading on the matter, among other books, I wholeheartedly recommend *MDMA Solo* by The Castalia Foundation. https://castaliafoundation.com/