Absorbing Shock

When we can talk about our feelings, they become less overwhelming, less upsetting, and less scary. 

- Fred Rogers

One form of trauma is shock. I am fascinated by shock. Electric shock can be used in forms of therapy to change brain chemistry to relieve patients suffering from depression, and it is also used in torture. Yet, on a regular basis, we all experience various forms of shock.

Shock is like Surprise's evil twin. It can be something as disturbing as news of a war in a far away country, or a shooting close to home. It can be getting dumped or told, "it was just a fling." Getting fired, or getting rear ended.

When it comes to a medical diagnosis, there are multiple ways of experiencing shock, but they all have to do with blood flow (What You Should Know About Shock, by "Healthline"). They all involve a reduction in blood pressure. On the one hand, shock can be the result of something big like an obstruction in blood flow to the heart, but it can also be the result of something that builds up in small increments over time, like the shock that results from blood poisoning.

A mother may be shocked at hearing her child was treated unfairly at school one day, and have the urge to march down to the school and right the wrong. Another day, she may experience an explosion of frustration at bedtime, as her cup of patience slowly has moved passed the fill-line without fair warning.

Whether the trauma of shock is something out of nowhere or the manifestation of something gradual, it can seem just as overwhelming. Maybe you should have seen it coming, because your dog was seven, but it is still a lot to process, when they don't come back from the vet. Shock doesn't seem to require surprise; instead it is the realization that the flow of life as we know it, has been disrupted. 

How do I deal with shock? I write. But why? Here's why:

• It helps me to face my experience; I cannot stuff it or deny it.
• It empowers me.
• It reminds me I am human, and I am not alone.

Shock can be a wake-up call; we often notice this in recovery and refer to it as a "two-by-four" to the soul. It's an invitation to remember our humanness, and the fragility of life. It can be a reminder of the things that matter, and help us adjust priorities. It can stimulate gratitude, which is a healing balm. It can encourage us to reach out to others and connect. It can only do these things if it is acknowledged and faced, and not denied.

About a year ago, I was blindsided by the news that my father had a stroke. It turned out to be minor, and he is healthy, today. But at the time, my world was shaken. I wrote this poem that day, to face the blow.

Shock
By Elias Orrego

There’s a sandwich in the fridge with his name on it. And he’s never gonna eat it up.

Made last night, before he ran for it 

to the hospital to chase his luck

It’ll sit in there for who knows how long, cuz he’s not gonna come home soon

Single-handed he could hold on to it

But his mouth, it couldn’t chew...

open the fridge and read his name 

On a sandwich that’s made in vain

Bend over and cry, feel the fear and pain

Life might never be the same