"The original theory that motivated the first studies on writing was based on the assumption that not talking about important psychological phenomenon is a form of inhibition...and could be viewed as a long-term low-level stressor. Such stress...(increases) the risk of illness and other stress-related disturbances. Just as constraining thoughts, feelings, or behaviors linked to an emotional upheaval is stressful, letting go and talking about these experiences should, in theory, reduce the stress of inhibition."
It takes energy to avoid and avoidance has its price.
"Findings to support the inhibition model of psychosomatics are accumulating individuals who conceal their gay status, conceal traumatic experiences in their past, or are considered inhibited or shy by other people exhibit more health problems than those who are less inhibited."
"In a recent study, students were randomly assigned either...
- to express a traumatic experience using bodily movement,
- to express a traumatic experience first through movement and then in written form,
- or to exercise in a prescribed manner for 3 days, 10 minutes per day.
This finding reminds me of a podcast* on the nctsn.org website where Bessel van der Kolk, a trauma researcher, explains the importance of movement, theater, and sports in trauma treatment but ends his talk by saying that sooner or later the child will need to tell the story in order to heal.
When examining the writing of study subjects, Pennebaker found some patterns:
"Three linguistic factors reliably predicted improved physical health:
- The more that individuals used positive emotion words, the better their subsequent health.
- A moderate number of negative emotion words predicted health. Both very high and very low levels of negative emotion words correlated with poorer health.
- Most important, an increase in both causal and insight words over the course of writing was strongly associated with improved health. People who benefited from writing began with poorly organized descriptions and progressed to coherent stories by the last day of writing."
A question all of this raises for me is:
Writing about a traumatic event is healing. That is, what is healing about writing is focusing on both the facts and the feelings and over time, crafting a coherent, organized, detailed and integrated narrative. So maybe the exposure therapy technique for trauma treatment involving verbal repetition of the trauma narrative can be replaced with writing. Any clinician can attest to the energetic exchange that happens when we listen to the traumatic stories of our clients over and over while implementing this evidence-based technique. If writing "independent of social feedback" is healing, then I wonder if helping clients to release the energy of these painful stories without taking it on may be better facilitated through a writing process?
As I shared these articles with my husband, he commented that writing as healing makes sense. That is, if your stomach hurts what feels good is to vomit or digest and get rid of the toxin (by pooping). If you have an infected lesion, you have to squeeze out the puss. If you have painful emotions, then you have to write it out - release those toxins so they don't fester. It also seems like yet another example of the connection between mind and body - writing about emotional experiences improves physical health. So what is the energy contained in painful emotions? When the energy is trapped in the body, it makes us sick. So what is the best way to release the energy safely and effectively?
What also struck me is that it is no coincidence that elementary school teachers and secondary English teachers make such an impact on their students. They provide the tools, expectations, opportunities and relationship context for writing as healing, everyday.
Finally, my next post will be about the stories that mothers tell about their childhood and the storytelling qualities that predict secure attachment in their children. The similarities in narrative quality between the writing that heals and the narratives that predict secure attachment is eerie. And if secure attachment protects against PTSD symptom development, then I can't help but wonder about the connection and implications...
*Master Speaker Series: Developmental Impact of Childhood Trauma by Bessel van der Kolk
Reference:
Pennebaker, J.W. (1997). Writing About Emotional Experiences as a Therapeutic Process. Psychological Science, 8(3), 162-166.
Simply repeating a narrative of trauma can leave us stuck in our story. What appears to work best is seeing our story from the perspective of a reader or listener, that is becoming a witness to our experience as we have rendered it in words. Only by seeing what we have said are we able to "correct" its misapprehensions and begin to enlarge our sense of what has happened to us and how it fits into a larger narrative of our lives. I am working on an article about this kind of healing change, based on my work with writers over the past 30+ years as well as my experience in writing poetry, fiction, and essays during my treatment for and recovery from cancer. Thanks for making the connection between healing writing and mothers' narratives. I am eager to follow your blog.
ReplyDeleteThanks for reading and commenting, Leatha.
ReplyDeleteGood observation between getting stuck vs. processing trauma - big difference!
Your point is well taken about having a witness. This reminds me of the powerful role that attachment and social support play in our recovery and healing. It also reminds me that we have blind spots and rely on others to help point out what we miss. We are not meant to be an island, but connected to the greater shore of humanity.
In Pennebaker's studies, he found that people felt better even if no one else read their essays, as long as they included certain elements in their writing - facts and feelings, positive and negative emotions in the right proportion, etc.
I look forward to reading your article when it comes out. Thanks for sharing about your recovery status and the role that writing played in being a survivor.
Nice thoughtful post, Alejandra. For me, I see writing as action - a physical exertion (akin to dance or theater) to accompany the mind process of storytelling. It forces the writer to communicate and examine. When you talk it goes out and disappears. When you write, you are taking the talking points from inside and clarifying- looking at the words to make sure they communicate. You slow down and thus your writing may take a turn from where you were talking in your mind to often reveal the unexpected on paper.
ReplyDeleteI so agree with Leatha about the perspective of listener or reader. One of the first steps in the Storybooks for Healing writing after loss program is identifying an audience. Who needs to hear this story? How will you tell it relevant to their and your lives? This means the writer takes on a bit more objective role than a speaker and may need to sort out the healing writing for self and loss (the release of toxins you mention), and writing which develops the public story. I've often seen these two distinct roles of writing work well in tandem to help heal many people as they learn to tell and share their stories of the heart.
Thanks for reading and commenting. Your description of the mechanisms of writing resonate with my own writing experiences - I like how you put it.
ReplyDeleteThanks for sharing your perspectives and experiences. I have a new post to explain what I was beginning to say in this post: "Exposure Therapy and Journaling"