Have you ever experienced something that hit you harder than it did the others around you? Sometimes an experience, a sight, sound or smell can take you back in time.
The smell of pipe tobacco might take you back to your grandfather’s study. Thinking about fresh-baked cinnamon rolls can make your mouth water.
Other sights, sounds and smells can take you back to memories you’d rather forget.
Some events are truly horrifying or scary, and anyone would react deeply. Some people deal with more anxiety than others.
But I’m talking about a situation where you might notice your reaction seems more than the reactions of others around you.
Sometimes an overreaction is a clue that our response to a situation might be more about what’s happening inside of us than what’s happening right in front of us.
During a moment of high emotion, if you can, take a breath. Pause. Think.
One reason we’re advised to “count to ten” is that it gives us time to calm down and think more clearly.
Now you can consider: Does the event warrant this level of reaction? Are you tired and cranky, or sick? Are you just having a really bad day? Do you need to eat? Are you under a lot of stress? If so, take a break and take care of yourself.
If you are generally okay, no one is seriously hurt, and nothing is on fire…pause some more. You might want to be curious about why you’re reacting so strongly to this particular situation or conversation.
I wrote about a situation where my husband said something I overreacted to. It sent me right back to a childhood memory and, thankfully, I realized it before I took his head off (Tidal Wave).
An intense reaction might make total sense to you when you think about it.
Maybe a child crying for help reminds you of a time you needed help and no one was there for you. Or perhaps you realize that the reason you never let even your older teenager slice a watermelon is because you cut yourself badly as a child.
Sometimes you might recognize that you’re overreacting but aren’t exactly sure why your response is so intense.
And sometimes the reaction doesn’t end when the event does. The feelings linger, perhaps even affecting you in ways you don’t immediately recognize.
Both kinds of reactions can be invitations to look a little deeper.
The Alpaca Farm
Late this summer, I stayed at a nearby alpaca farm for a personal writing retreat. The property had changed hands. It was still beautiful, but there were different owners and a different herd of alpacas.
As I took walks around the large property, it seemed odd that no one else was around. In previous years, I always ran into the farm manager, who made sure I belonged there.
That mornning, in a separate pen by the barn, there was a mama with a cria by her side. Her baby was the size of a large dog and was in a little blanket coat. Since it hadn’t been there the evening before, I thought it must have been born during the night.
The blanket told me someone had been there to care for the newborn.
Then Pat went around the corner ahead of me and said, “Oh, there is a stillborn one.”
“What?” I asked.
He repeated it.
Dang it.
I avoided looking for a while, but curiosity got to me.
Oh.
My heart sank.
Then I noticed the mama sitting nearby.
Her back was turned away.
“Where are the caretakers?” I said.
I heard the mama make some coughing noises.
Then I said loudly to Pat, “Why isn’t anyone around? No one is here to help her!”
“Where are the caretakers?”
I fumbled with my phone, struggling to use it. Finally, I was able to connect with the owners and let them know what had happened.
The person I contacted said, “These things happen.”
It doesn’t mean it’s not horribly upsetting, I thought in exasperation.
This event really put a dark cloud over what had otherwise been a wonderful visit. I’d gotten a lot of writing done and so enjoyed the alpacas.
I went home and told most people I had a great time. I only told my therapist and a few friends about the mama and her baby.
And I kept repeating that no one had been there for them. I didn’t understand where the caretakers had been.
And went on with life.
The Echo
Except I didn’t.
I didn’t get back into exercising. I quit riding my e-bike, which I had been enjoying. I mean, I’d even named her Esmerelda! And there she sat.
At first, I attributed my lack of exercise to a change in my schedule.
But then I started needing naps. I was unusually sleepy and unmotivated. And instead of getting better, it got worse.
Six weeks later, I realized something in me had changed. And I knew exactly when. That day at the farm.
But here’s the thing. Pat had seen it, too. It bothered him at the time, but he moved on fairly quickly, as I imagine most people would have.
And I was still stuck on the caretakers.
I knew someone had been there. I’d seen evidence of that with the blanketed newborn. But I couldn’t get past the fact that no one was around when we discovered the other babe.
“Where were the caretakers?” still echoed in my thoughts.
I knew it was time to look deeper.
Untangling
“Search me, God, and know my heart;
Put me to the test and know my anxious thoughts;
And see if there is any hurtful way in me,
And lead me in the everlasting way.”
—Psalm 139:23-24
When you find yourself having a stronger reaction than the situation seems to warrant, or when a reaction continues to linger, it may be time to slow down, pray, and ask God to help you understand what’s happening beneath the surface.
Sometimes we discover an old wound that needs healing. Sometimes we uncover a belief about ourselves that we’ve never thought to question.
That’s what happened to me.
My Process
The phrase I kept hearing myself repeat was: “Where are the caretakers?” I took out my journal, prayed, tossed it around, and traced it back in time.
It connected to something I had done as a teenager before I knew Jesus. I was ashamed of it then, and when I became a believer a few years later, I asked God to forgive me. And I believed He had.
I pondered why that phrase had come to mind. Through my journaling, I began to connect it to my chaotic childhood and the many kinds of abuse I experienced.
The caretakers weren’t available to help shape me in faith, or to help me develop the kind of self-love and self-confidence that can lead to good and wise decisions.
I thought I had to deal with things myself. And as young as I was, I didn’t always make very good decisions.
As I journaled before God, I discovered that I really hadn’t forgiven myself. I thought I was done with that particular event from my past. But my strong and lingering reaction showed me there were deeper levels that needed healing, forgiveness, and acceptance.
What surprised me the most is what happened when I asked myself what I thought about that teenage part of me.
I called her a horrible name.
Wow.
I had moved from guilt about something I’d done to shame about who I was. When I recognized how harshly I’d judged that teenage girl, I was shocked. No one had spoken about her as cruelly as I had.
I discovered that the question wasn’t only about an alpaca and her baby. Somewhere inside me, a teenage girl was still asking that question about her own life.
And I discovered something else. I had more compassion for that mama alpaca than I had for my younger self.
That was a painful realization.
But it was also an invitation to healing.
I still have work to do on this, and I’ll work with my therapist instead of trying to do it alone. Being alone was part of the problem in the first place.
Follow the Echo
If you have a very strong reaction to an event or conversation in the moment, or if the effects linger long after the event is over, you might want to look into it.
Pray. Think. Journal. Ask God to help you connect the dots.
What keeps coming back to mind? Is it a phrase, an image, a question, or something someone said? Does it remind you of another time in your life?
For me, it was “Where are the caretakers?”
Perhaps you’ve been carrying a belief about yourself that you’ve never thought to question. Perhaps something happened long ago, and you’ve assumed you dealt with it. Or perhaps an ordinary conversation has stirred up something you don’t yet understand.
You don’t have to figure it all out immediately.
If something continues to come back to mind, consider asking yourself:
- What words, images, or thoughts keep returning?
- Does anything feel different? When did that begin?
- Does this remind me of something earlier in my life?
- What have I come to believe about myself because of that experience?
- What might God want me to understand about it now?
Bring it before God. Ask Him what He wants you to understand about what happened and what you’ve come to believe about yourself.
I wrote about this process in The Lies You Believe, which explores how to bring those beliefs before God and ask Him for His truth.
Sometimes we can untangle these things through prayer, journaling, and talking with a trusted friend. Other times, we need professional help. I’ve often chosen to work through painful memories with my therapist, especially when being alone was part of the original hurt.
Not every strong reaction points to an old wound. Sometimes we’re simply tired, hungry, overwhelmed, or having a bad day.
But sometimes there’s something more.
Don’t assume that a recurring thought is telling you the truth about yourself. But don’t automatically dismiss it, either.
Follow the echo.
And invite God into the untangling.
You were never meant to carry the burden alone.
Another Useful Tool:
EMDR (Eye Movement Desensitization and Reprocessing)
I’ve had a few events in my chaplain work that have interrupted my ability to sleep or given me flashbacks. I’ve needed my therapist’s help to work through them.
Some ended up being reminders of my childhood trauma, but not all. One was a really rough hospital event, similar to what a first responder might experience.
In my therapist’s office I was given two small “clickers” to hold, one in each hand. They gave me gentle alternating vibrations, first in one hand and then the other.
I can’t begin to tell you why it works. What I do understand is that traumatic memories aren’t always processed the same way as ordinary memories. EMDR is a therapy that can help settle those distressing memories.
EMDR may take several sessions. In this instance, even though the experience was deeply upsetting, it involved a single, recent event.
During the session, my therapist helped me talk through the event while the clickers gently buzzed from one hand to the other.
After this session, the memory lost its previous emotional impact, and I was able to sleep peacefully again.
If you’ve been through something traumatic, like a car crash or an assault, and you keep having flashbacks or intrusive memories, EMDR might be helpful for you, too. It’s something you could ask a therapist about.
Sometimes I think of the hurts and old beliefs I’ve accumulated over the years like the files on my laptop. Things pile up, and every once in a while, it’s time to do some cleaning.
When we follow the echoes that life sends us, God can help us clear out things we don’t need to carry anymore. These might be old hurts, things we’ve believed about ourselves that aren’t true, or ways of thinking that no longer serve us.
He is a good, good Father. He loves us and will help us love ourselves better, if we let Him.
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