Psychological states. The fear of separateness

Draft translation. This text was translated automatically and has not been proofread yet — if something reads oddly, it does.

The psychology of states in wartime. Separation trauma as a source of anxiety and stagnation.

— I keep thinking about how much I want to go back to the past; I feel like a stranger everywhere. Pictures of my old life keep coming up before my eyes. Here we are, my husband and I, out for a walk; we’ve sat down in a cosy café and, as usual, are “tasting” each other’s food. And here we are on a hot summer day, we’ve gone out of town and are lazing by the pool, soaking up the spicy sun.

— says one of my clients at yet another session.

— And it’s so sad, I want to cry from hopelessness! I want to go back there and for none of this to have happened (the war, the move, the separation).

• Such pleasant memories, so why do they come with an aching longing instead of joy?

• Why is there such unrest, such anxiety somewhere in the belly and chest?

• Why does resentment roll in, bringing along its eternal companion, guilt?

• Why do you want to send everything to hell and rush back there, into the very thick of the shelling, even if your mind is shouting “pull yourself together”?

  It all comes down to psychology.

The psyche lives by its own laws, and a person who does not know them sinks into the chaos of existence. You can study these laws on our courses.
In chaos, the only goal in life becomes controlling everything that in any way falls outside what is understandable and familiar. Control based on the habits of “not knowing”, “suppressing”, “repressing”, “substituting” and so on.
There are no thoughts here of “higher” things — of growth, self-knowledge, spirituality, personal power. If only one could survive!

War, as a factor that drives development, does its work. It sweeps away everything in its path that was so carefully built to control your life.

Metaphorically, it is like a huge torrent of water that has broken through a dam and has finally found freedom.

All your feelings burst to the surface, held back by nothing and therefore terribly dangerous.
And there you find yourself on a log or a piece of some broken support, floating with the current of life. The water is still muddy, and bits of life — yours or other people’s — float past you.
And you want so much to grab onto something from the past, to hold on, to regain control. So as not to be alone in this current, where everyone floats on whatever they managed to hold on to.

The unknown causes a lot of anxiety because you have suddenly found yourself completely free. And freedom is a test not for the faint-hearted.

In the courses I explain that the psyche develops according to certain laws.

In infancy, while a child cannot yet cope with their freedom, they (if they are lucky) merge emotionally with the mother. It is such a sweet feeling, with no tension, no boundaries, no irritation, and you are one whole. Likewise there is no “I” and “You” here, no will, no ego and no independence. This dependence is needed for the child’s emotional sphere to form. But further on the child faces crises that lead them in a spiral towards finding themselves, self-assertion, success and their own place in the world.
Everyone’s first years of life go differently, but the memory of this sweet merging (rooted in the unconscious time spent in the mother’s womb) stays for ever.

That is why it is so hard to find yourself free — it forces you to choose your own path, to know who I am.

Memory treacherously leads you back into these states where there is no tension, where it seems that you are safely protected (but are in fact dependent).
Those who for some reason could not fully go through the stages of separation in childhood and could not cope with the state of the exile have now turned out to be the most vulnerable to the realities of life.
The war has activated all traumas, starting from the moment of conception, because in such disasters the instincts are very strong.

Our natural self rushes towards consciousness in a stormy torrent, breaks all the dams and barriers, takes away control and brings to the surface everything that was suppressed, hidden and blocked.

Family relationships are no exception.

When two people have merged into one whole in the ecstasy of being in love (and in fact have lost and dissolved themselves), they get a chance to return to the long-forgotten “happiness” of merging, where I am you and you are me.

For many, the war took away the chance to be together, and now freedom has taken the partner’s place (along with anxiety, fear of loneliness, helplessness, despair, horror, a sense of being an outcast, panic attacks and the other “delights” of this period).
And this separation trauma is now very active in many people. That is why many are not attending to the future but are grieving for the past, unwilling to look reality and their new selves in the eye.

It is often very hard and frightening to do this alone.

To move on and grow, you need to work with a psychologist who will help you complete the separation, overcome the effects of the trauma, stop drifting apathetically among the wreckage of your past life, grow inner supports and take up the new opportunities that are now open to everyone who sees them.

Reaching out for help right now is the best thing you can do for yourself.

I invite you to the “Practical Psychology” course, to individual work and to the centre’s other events. Online format, from anywhere in the world!

Anna Oleksandrivna Shyman, course tutor.