There Is No Hierarchy of Trauma

Insomnia can strike for innumerable and multiple reasons. We all have our stories. But trauma is quite often part of our stories and I wonder how well we acknowledge the impact of trauma on sleep.

Suffering is not a competition

When I was safely ensconced in a psychiatric hospital (third time around), I was reliably informed that there is no hierarchy of trauma. Despite all my protestations about how much worse other people have had it, apparently, I’m still impacted by the things that have actually happened to me.

I’m no Robinson Crusoe here. I feel like we all have a small level of competition when it comes to stress. Either believing we’re suffering so much more than others or believing everyone else has it much worse and our suffering is invalid.

Suffering is suffering, and someone else’s pain does nothing to my own level of distress.

Trauma can be a standalone reason or come as a packaged deal

Anxiety has kept me awake many a night. Many, many a night. As has depression. I have been diagnosed with post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD) and it has taken me a long time to come to terms with that.

PTSD puts you into a constant state of arousal – always on the lookout for the next thing to go wrong. Constant arousal has an obvious impact on the ability to sleep. Thoughts are intrusive. Physiologically the body is tensed and ready for action. Circadian rhythms change. Trauma can be a standalone reason for insomnia or might come as part of a package deal.

'There is no hierarchy of trauma'

I’ve had sleep issues my entire life. I would call myself an insomniac from about the age of 40. I was 50 before my psychiatric diagnoses started rolling in. But in hindsight, the trauma responses have been there for so very long.

“There is no hierarchy of trauma.”

When I was told that, I felt validated. I hadn’t experienced a single catastrophic event that changed me overnight. I collected small traumas my entire life – from childhood emotional neglect to a string of major grief. Tumble that all together with the normal midlife changes and I developed PTSD. My insomnia got completely out of hand.

When my true healing began

It took 4 years for me to acknowledge PTSD as a valid diagnosis. Four years of the most appalling sleep. Mostly no sleep if we’re being brutally honest. Twenty minutes here and there was about it. My true healing began when I came to terms with all of my story and I stopped making it a competition about who had it worst.

PTSD can be caused by physical or sexual abuse, ongoing harassment or bullying, experiencing violence (personally or witnessing it), grief, betrayal, surviving a major accident or natural disaster – and probably all sorts of other things.

We can’t change what we don’t acknowledge

PTSD has a major disruptive impact on sleep and sleep disruption makes it difficult to heal mental illness. So, it’s a bit of a vicious circle. It is so important to seek help for both psychiatric distress and sleep issues. They can be treated individually or together.

Like insomnia, treatment and recovery from mental illness is complex, slow, and needs a lot of tender, loving care. One of the first steps is acknowledging the impact of the stressors in our lives. We can’t change what we don’t acknowledge.

Acknowledgment is part of the way forward

Accepting my PTSD diagnosis made it possible for me to treat it. For the most part, my sleep is greatly improved, which has a flow-on effect to my mental health. I am not immune to insomnia and trauma symptoms – new stressors can bring on a new bout of hyperarousal and insomnia. But now I recognise it and am better skilled at managing things.

Not everyone experiences trauma, but a lot of us do. Acknowledging that is part of the way forward.