Traumatic memories are often fragmented – a psychologist explains how and why that happens

 Young Asian woman sits on a sofa looking sad and worried.
Traumatic memories are not recalled the same way pleasant memories are.
Filmstax/E+ via Getty Images

Michele Patterson Ford, Dickinson College

When survivors of trauma recount their experiences, they are often questioned because of how they relay their stories. They may have problems remembering what happened, or their memories may be jumbled or even contradictory. People hearing those stories – attorneys, reporters, healthcare workers or friends – may expect a clearer, linear narrative.

Those unaffected by trauma may also be surprised to hear how the person acted in the moment. It’s easy to assume that someone experiencing a traumatic event would have a “fight or flight” response, instinctively fighting off a perpetrator or fleeing the scene – but that might not be the case.

Understanding the science of how trauma affects memory and behavior reveals why these responses can actually be expected and are not contradictory.

In both my academic and clinical work as a psychologist, I have witnessed the impact trauma has on people’s memories and behaviors, especially when an event in their present life triggers something from their past.

Research shows that taking a trauma-informed approach, which prioritizes understanding and curiosity about someone’s experience as opposed to judgment or critical evaluation, increases empathy for survivors’ thoughts, feelings and behaviors.

How trauma affects the brain

According to the World Health Organization, approximately 70% of people worldwide report experiencing a traumatic event in their lifetime. The majority of these people do not develop PTSD, a clinical diagnosis of symptoms, such as having nightmares and flashbacks about the event, avoiding places that are reminders of it, and increased arousal that can make concentration and sleep difficult. Many survivors don’t meet criteria for PTSD but struggle with feeling distressed, depressed or anxious.

In traumatic situations, people often respond in unexpected ways, and they may second-guess themselves. This may happen particularly when someone experiences a repeated trauma, which is more likely than not due to how many people experience traumatic events.

Trauma also distorts how memories are stored and retrieved.

Research indicates that people experience traumatic memories differently than memories of other significant events, such as sad or positive experiences. Two of the main brain structures scientists believe are involved in storing traumatic memories are the hippocampus – responsible for memory storage – and the amygdala, which is responsible for processing emotions.

During trauma, the amygdala becomes highly active, processing emotions such as fear, and the hippocampus becomes overwhelmed by stress, leading to problems with memory storage.

Traumatic memories do not follow a neat, linear story. Instead, people may experience the memory as disconnected fragments of sensations, emotions, smells or images. Such memories cause the body to reexperience the past threat as if it is happening in the moment. This may cause a person to feel like running away or fighting back – flight or fight. Or they may freeze.

In other words, people don’t have the distant perspective they often feel with other memories from the past. Rather, they may feel they are reliving the original experience.

Single working mother and her teenage daughter talk with much emotion in the kitchen.
Emotionally intense conversations can bring up past traumas, causing a person to freeze or feel numb.
Olga Rolenko/Moment via Getty Images
Misinterpreting victims’ behaviors

With this understanding, consider someone who experiences a trauma at the hands of a professional during an appointment. They may appear outwardly calm while it happens and then leave the session as they typically would – checking out, providing payment and possibly even scheduling the next appointment. While their response to act normally may seem odd, such behavior makes sense for someone trying to escape a threat.

Fight, flight or freeze responses have become widely known in popular culture. In a freeze response, a person’s mind goes blank and they may be unable to speak, leading to a “deer in the headlights” behavior.

On the other hand, a person may act paradoxically – perhaps by going on about their day as if nothing happened. They may not report the event or may question whether the incident even occurred. This represents another survival response – the lesser-known fawn response. This way of handling stress occurs when someone acts calm, appeases the threatening person and retreats to de-escalate the situation. Instead of literally backing away, in this example, the person metaphorically backs away by completing the session and exiting as expected without further conflict.

Outsiders may misconstrue these behaviors as evidence that a trauma did not actually happen or that a survivor lacks credibility. But that logic reflects common misconceptions about how people “should” remember or respond to trauma.

If this was the person’s first experience with a traumatic situation, afterward they are likely to feel afraid, disoriented or hyperalert. However, if they had previous similar experiences, this scenario may trigger past memories in the moment. This can muddy the experience even further, making it difficult to recall the incident later, especially under stressful circumstances.

When a survivor reports an incident and ultimately testifies against someone who harmed them, memory recall might be uniquely affected. Most people in this situation would be highly stressed, especially if the perpetrator were in the room.

To make matters worse, the feeling that the recalled memory is actually happening in the moment and not in the past may cause a survivor to convey a more fragmented story. They may also have either a more intense or detached emotional experience, depending on their own trauma responses.

Legal and other professionals unaware of the range of natural responses to trauma can easily misinterpret these behaviors as signs of lying or malingering.

In reality, the percentage of people who falsely report sexual assault, for example, is low – between 2% and 10%.

Two middle-aged men of diverse racial backgrounds engage in an intimate conversation while sitting in a living room.
Empathy can build trust and safety.
AzmanL/E+ via Getty Images
Providing better support

Research shows that people who better understand nuances of trauma and mental health in turn are more empathetic toward survivors. Some healthcare settings have adopted a trauma-informed approach to prevent retraumatization and build safety. Studies show that even being attentive to word choice can help ensure effective care for patients that avoids victim blaming.

A trauma-informed approach can also improve legal and justice systems so victims are better supported. This includes understanding why accounts aren’t linear and not equating memory inconsistencies with lying.

Research also shows that trauma-informed responses are equally important in everyday relationships. In friendships and close relationships, or in the workplace, patience and empathy convey a sense of respect, safety and trustworthiness. These offer a strong foundation for positive social and working relationships, which can lower a survivor’s distress and support their healing.

When people have a greater understanding of how trauma affects the brain, they gain insight into how survivors think, act and process their memories. What initially looks confusing or inconsistent is actually behavior that flows logically from a traumatized brain.

Having a trauma-informed perspective helps people to be better friends, co-workers and professionals. By extension, responding from this awareness may even help survivors understand their own reactions and experiences, which may ultimately aid their healing and ability to lead fulfilling lives.The Conversation

Michele Patterson Ford, Lecturer in Psychology, Dickinson College

This article is republished from The Conversation under a Creative Commons license. Read the original article.

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[Reprint] Childhood experiences of LGBTQ+ stigma can harm romantic relationships decades later

This is so important to those affected by LGBTQ+ stigma and those who love them, I am reprinting it in its entirety (under Creative Commons license).

Childhood experiences of LGBTQ+ stigma can harm romantic relationships decades later – psychologists explain how to reconnect with yourself and your partner

Person looking into the distance as their partner smiles at them
Difficult experiences you had as a child may be putting a wedge between you and your partner.
Dmytro Betsenko/Moment via Getty Images

Melissa Gates, Binghamton University, State University of New York and Christina Balderrama-Durbin, Binghamton University, State University of New York

Childhood rejection, discrimination and bullying can affect your well-being as an adult. If your friends, family or community pushed you away because of your sexuality or gender, these childhood experiences of prejudice can also affect your future relationships.

Many LGBTQ+ people encounter difficult experiences as children, including abuse, neglect and challenges at home, because of their sexuality or gender. Other negative experiences – including bullying, witnessing your peers be harassed or ostracized, and the need to conceal your identity to protect yourself – may make it especially challenging to accept your sexuality or gender as an adult.

Developing a negative self-view as a result of these harmful experiences during your formative years is not uncommon. Feelings of shame or unworthiness can carry into your 20s, 30s and beyond, harming your mental health along with your ability to form and maintain romantic relationships.

Fortunately, making meaning of your early experiences can help you heal, reconnecting and strengthening your relationships as a result.

Internalized stigma harms relationships

Our psychology research team focuses on understanding the connection between childhood anti-LGBTQ+ experiences, well-being and relationship health.

We found that a factor called internalized stigma can notably affect the romantic relationships of LGBTQ+ people. Internalized stigma refers to when society’s negative views and biases toward a part of your identity shapes how you think and feel about yourself. This can influence how you view romantic relationships and how you interact with your romantic partners.

People with higher levels of internalized stigma report more conflicts and less satisfaction in their relationships. Research suggests that internalized stigma can negatively affect key aspects of romantic relationships that keep people satisfied with their partners, including trust, connection and intimacy.

Person sitting on the edge of a bed, facing away from another person sitting against the headboard
Internalized stigma can lead to conflict in relationships.
zoranm/E+ via Getty Images

For some, internalized stigma might result in low self-esteem, feeling like you are inadequate or unworthy, feeling disengaged from the LGBTQ+ community or wanting to pass as heterosexual or cisgender.

Internalized stigma can also shape how secure you feel in romantic relationships. For some, these negative self-views can lead to difficulties with commitment and more conflict between partners.

In our study of 80 LGBTQ+ couples, we found that childhood emotional wounds tied to sexuality or gender can carry into adulthood, shaping a person’s relationships in their 20s and 30s.

Specifically, LGBTQ+ adults with more childhood anti-LGBTQ+ experiences reported less trust in their partner and reduced emotional and sexual intimacy – key ingredients in a healthy and satisfying romantic relationship.

Overcoming childhood trauma

It’s worth remembering that these negative beliefs about yourself don’t develop overnight. It also takes time to recognize and change how you react to them.

Exploring whether your symptoms of guilt, shame and low self-esteem are related to internalized stigma is a critical part of beginning to navigate it. Recognizing and pinpointing where these beliefs came from, which may include negative messages from society or your family, is an important first step.

Practicing self-compassion – that is, offering yourself warmth, nonjudgment and understanding during stressful and challenging moments – can reduce anxiety, depression and internalized stigma. Instead of becoming overwhelmed by your emotions and the stressors you encounter, self-compassion allows you to attend to these experiences in a balanced way.

Show yourself patience and acceptance after difficult moments, such as when you’re feeling undervalued, alone or ashamed because of your sexuality or gender. Adopting mantras such as “I am enough,” “I can overcome hard things” and “May I be kind to myself and give myself compassion in this moment” is one way to practice self-affirmation.

Person with leaning head against hand as another person touches their face in consolation
Talking to your partner about challenging experiences can help build intimacy.
FG Trade/E+ via Getty Images

Building in opportunities in your daily life to engage with your interests and finding positive outlets for stress can improve your mood by reigniting joy and a sense of accomplishment. For some, this might include expressive writing, reading, going for a walk or listening to a podcast.

You may also want to explore how shame and guilt around your sexual or gender identities can show up in your relationships. Intentionally carving out ways to support and connect with your partner can create emotional safety by building intimacy and closeness.

Importantly, stigma and shame don’t have to become the only thing you and your partner talk about. Strengthening positive aspects of your relationship can help you continue finding ways to bond.

Finding and giving support

Talking with your partner or other community members who have had similar experiences may provide a sense of connection.

Seeking professional support for your relationships can help reconnect you with your partner. Many LGBTQ+ people face barriers to seeking professional relationship support, including fear of discrimination and concerns about working with providers who lack expertise on LGBTQ+ issues.

Online self-directed relationship programs that are tailored for LGBTQ+ relationships may be more approachable. Find trained providers who are LGBTQ+ friendly, affirming and willing to advocate for your needs.

Lastly, recognize that the onus for change is not solely on you and your partner. Change also needs to come at a societal level. You can empower yourself and others by connecting with other people in the LGBTQ+ community, including mentoring LGBTQ+ youth. Many face similar experiences, and you are not alone.The Conversation

Melissa Gates, Ph.D. Candidate in Clinical Psychology, Binghamton University, State University of New York and Christina Balderrama-Durbin, Associate Professor of Psychology, Binghamton University, State University of New York

This article is republished from The Conversation under a Creative Commons license. Read the original article.

Continue reading “[Reprint] Childhood experiences of LGBTQ+ stigma can harm romantic relationships decades later”…

Reprint: Traumatic bereavement and how to help the survivors

When grief involves trauma − a social worker explains how to support survivors of the recent floods and other devastating losses

Rain falls over a makeshift memorial for flood victims along the Guadalupe River on July 13, 2025, in Kerrville, Texas.
AP Photo/Eric Gay

Liza Barros-Lane, University of Houston-Downtown

The July 4, 2025, floods in Kerr County, Texas, swept away children and entire families, leaving horror in their wake. Days later, flash floods struck Ruidoso, New Mexico, killing three people, including two young children.

These are not just devastating losses. When death is sudden, violent, or when a body is never recovered, grief gets tangled up with trauma.

In these situations, people don’t only grieve the death. They struggle with the terror of how it happened, the unanswered questions and the shock etched into their bodies.

I’m a social work professor, grief researcher and the founder of The Young Widowhood Project, a research initiative aimed at expanding scholarship and public understanding of premature spousal loss.

I was widowed when I was 36. In July 2020, my husband, Brent, went missing after testing a small, flat-bottomed fishing boat called a Jon boat. His body was recovered two days later, but I never saw his remains.

Both my personal loss and professional work have shown me how trauma changes the grieving process and what kind of support actually helps.

To understand how trauma can complicate grief, it’s important to first understand how people typically respond to loss.

Grief isn’t a set of stages

Many people still think of grief through the lens of psychiatrist Dr. Elisabeth Kübler-Ross’ five stages of grief, popularized in the early 1970s: denial, anger, bargaining, depression and acceptance.

But in fact, this model was originally designed for people facing their own deaths, not for mourners. In the absence of accessible grief research in the 1960s, it became a leading framework for understanding the grieving process – even though it wasn’t meant for that.

Despite this misapplication, the stages model has shaped cultural expectations: namely, that grief ends once people reach the “acceptance” stage. But research doesn’t support this idea. Trying to force grief into this model can cause real harm, leaving mourners feeling they’re grieving “wrong.”

In reality, mourning is often lifelong. Most people go through an acute period of overwhelming pain right after the loss. This is usually followed by integrated grief, where the pain softens but the loss is still part of everyday life, returning in waves.

Although grief is unique to each person and relationship, researchers have found that mourners often strive to a) make sense of the death; b) adjust to a world without their loved one; c) form an ongoing connection with their deceased loved one in new ways; and d) figure out who they are without their loved one.

It’s difficult and at times disorienting work, but most people find ways to carry their grief and keep living.

A grandmother embraces a young woman in front of a wall of flowers.
Julia Mora embraces her granddaughter, Isla Meyer, during a vigil for Texas flood victims on July 11, 2025.
AP Photo/Gerald Herbert
When grief and trauma collide

However, some losses carry an extra layer of pain, confusion and trauma.

Sudden, unexpected, accidental, violent or deeply tragic deaths – like those experienced during the recent floods – can lead to what researchers call traumatic bereavement: grief that is disrupted by the traumatic nature of the death.

People experiencing traumatic bereavement often endure a longer and more intense acute grief period. They may be haunted by disturbing images, nightmares or relentless thoughts about how their loved one died or suffered. Many wrestle with dread, spiritual disorientation and a shattered sense of safety in the world.

Some of these deaths are also considered “ambiguous” – unclear or unconfirmed loss – such as when a body is never recovered or is too damaged to view. Without physical confirmation, mourners often feel stuck in disbelief and helplessness.

This was true in my case. Not seeing my husband’s body left a part of me suspended between knowing and not knowing. I knew he had died but couldn’t fully believe it, no matter how much I lived with the reality of his absence. For a long time, I caught myself repeating these words every morning: “Brent is dead. Brent is dead.”

In many cases, these reactions aren’t short term. Many people affected by traumatic loss remain overwhelmed and sometimes physically and emotionally impaired for years. Symptoms may taper over time, but they rarely disappear entirely.

Supporting mourners

Traumatic bereavement can feel unbearable. Many mourners struggle with intense, long-lasting reactions that can leave them feeling helpless, altered or even unrecognizable to themselves. They may appear withdrawn, forgetful or emotionally drained because their systems are overwhelmed. Coping can look messy or self-destructive, but these are often survival strategies, not conscious choices. I’ve also seen how those same struggles become more survivable when mourners don’t have to carry them alone. If you’re supporting someone through traumatic loss, here are three ways to help.

  • Make space for the horror. Listen without flinching. Acknowledge the full weight of what happened and how terrifying and unjust the loss was. This means saying things like, “This should never have happened,” or “What you went through is beyond words.” It means staying present when the mourner speaks about what haunts them. Let them know they don’t have to carry this alone. You may feel the urge to say something hopeful such as, “At least the body was recovered,” but there is no silver lining in these cases. Instead, say: “There’s nothing I can say to fix this, but I’m not going anywhere.”
  • Help them find others who can understand. Trauma can be isolating. Mourners often feel uniquely overwhelmed or confused. Support groups, peer companions and therapists trained in treating grief and trauma can offer the kind of recognition and validation that even the most devoted friend may not be able to provide.
  • Take care of yourself, too. Being present for someone in deep grief takes energy, especially if you were personally affected by the loss. Stay connected to replenishing people, practices and routines. If you don’t, you may begin to experience trauma, too. Taking care of yourself will help you remain grounded so that you can show up.

I believe supporting someone through traumatic bereavement is one of the most meaningful things you can do. You don’t need perfect words or a plan. What sustains them won’t be advice or solutions, but your simple, powerful act of staying.The Conversation

Liza Barros-Lane, Assistant Professor of Social Work, University of Houston-Downtown

This article is republished from The Conversation under a Creative Commons license. Read the original article.

Continue reading “Reprint: Traumatic bereavement and how to help the survivors”…

In Times of War: A Flood of Horrific News

After the 2016 Presidential election, I wrote a series of blog posts, “In Troubled Times.” In them I explored my evolving feelings of disbelief, shock, horror, despair, fury, and rising determination. “Nevertheless, She Persisted” became our mantra. I hoped that my words provided solace and inspiration to others, and the process of putting them down did for me.

Now we face new, often overwhelming challenges to sanity. I find myself reacting to the news of the war in Ukraine, and yet being unable to look away. Then my friend, Jaym Gates, wrote this on her Facebook page, posted here with her permission.

Be really careful on social media for the next few days, friends. A lot of footage of Russian Federation war crimes, torture, rape, and murder just came out from Mariupol and other occupied cities. It is *horrific.* While it needs to be seen, shared, and remembered, it is going to be extremely traumatic to engage with.

If you’re a survivor of abuse or trauma, in particular, please be especially careful.

And send support to Ukraine if you can. What’s happening there is awful beyond words.

 My daughter, a psychology student, spotted this article by Heather Kelly in the Washington Post: How to stay up-to-date on terrible news without burning out.

It can be hard to look away from your phone and live your life while terrible events are unfolding, Kelly writes. There’s an unrelenting flow of images, videos and graphic updates out of Ukraine, filling social media, messaging apps and news sites.

It’s important to stay informed, engaged and even outraged. But it’s also important to pay attention to our own limits and mental health by taking breaks, looking for signs of burnout and consuming news in the smartest way possible.

That means setting some ground rules for the main portal connecting us to nonstop tragedy: our phones [or computers]. Here are some suggestions:

  1. Give yourself permission to take a break

It is okay to hit pause on the doom and go live your life, whether that means going outside with the kids or just losing yourself on the silly side of TikTok. It’s necessary for everyone’s mental health.

  1. Take time for self-care

A break is not a few minutes away from Twitter. Start with real breaks of at least 30 minutes to an hour so that your brain has time to come down from what you were last watching or reading. Ideally, you’ll put your phone down and take a technology break … or do some activities known to help with stress reduction, including exercise, mindfulness and meditation, journaling, engaging in hobbies and other activities you enjoy, spending time with family and friends, and doing faith-based activities if you practice.

  1. Change your news habits

Disinformation like propaganda is designed to capture your attention and elicit strong emotions, which can contribute to any anxiety you’re already feeling. Instead, stick with reputable sources. If you can wait, opt for deeply reported stories at the end of the day over constant smaller updates. Avoid using social media for news, but if you do, follow sources and people that contribute to your understanding of an issue rather than those that just generate more outrage.

  1. View your phone in black and white

In your smartphone’s accessibility settings there is an option to make the screen black and white instead of color. Some studies have indicated that turning this on leads to less screen time.

  1. Know when to ask for help

Look for signs that you are burned out or experiencing serious anxiety. First, consider whether you’re predisposed to reacting strongly to a particular issue. Anyone who has personally dealt with similar trauma or war in the past might find constant vivid social media posts about Ukraine to be triggering. [Italics mine.]

In conclusion: be kind to yourself, friends. Practice healthy boundaries and filters, and good self-care. Ask for help, whether it’s a friend or family member screening news for triggers, or a companion on a hike through the redwoods. Find safe people to reach out to. I’ll be writing more about our journey together.