ggered the same powerless feelings I felt in the salon chair. She said, “There’s nothing you can do. There were no witnesses, and you have no evidence. You could file a police report, but they won’t do anything about it except ask for his side of the story. They have no reason to believe you.”
I was infuriated and devastated. I called some close family members and told them what had happened; they only echoed what the advocate had said. The next day, I had a rehearsal for my play. I told everyone in the cast and crew. They were sympathetic but also didn’t have any advice about what actions I could take.
Every time someone confirmed what the rape advocate told me, I heard a voice that said, “You allowed this to happen. You let it happen.”
I imagined what would have happened if I had fought back: “Would he have tried to hurt me? That would have been evidence, right? If I had screamed and someone had heard me, they would be a witness, right? What if I had kicked him in the nuts on the way out? That would have been a defense, right?” Every scenario that conjured evidence and witnesses was in my hands, based on my actions. But my action during the assault had been to remain still and politely smile, to allow him to do what he wanted with my body. Why?
The Brain’s Responses to Threats Are Complicated
Most people know the phrase “fight or flight.” We’ve come to rely on it as an explanation for our behavior in times of high stress. The idea was first introduced by Walter B. Cannon in 1915. He observed that provoked animals released adrenaline, which gave their body the extra energy it needed to escape from or attack their predators. He proposed that human bodies work the exact same way. In some ways, he was right, but we’ve made many advancements and discoveries in the past century that shed light on our very complex response to stress. It turns out that humans don’t just run or fight when they’re scared.
I propose we get rid of this phrase entirely. It’s a false idea about instinct.
Believing fight or flight is our only response to threatening situations makes it easy to victim-blame. It becomes natural to think that if we’re only programmed to fight or run away, then anyone who doesn’t clearly wasn’t very threatened. What scientists and psychologists now understand is that the brain has a very intricate system of self-preservation. The first line of defense at certain times is not to immediately pump adrenaline but to slow down the prefrontal cortex.
Think of your brain like an electric grid. During a survival situation, you don’t lose total power to your prefrontal cortex — the area of the brain responsible for higher cognitive functions like decision-making, planning, and communicating emotion — but it does start to run on backup generators with certain non-essential functions shut down to conserve energy.
My prefrontal cortex was offline, and I didn’t have a choice to express my emotions because my brain had redirected power from that system.
This means when you’re faced with a threatening situation, you lose power to the part of your brain that can help you consciously decide what you should do next, understand how the situation will affect your future, make a detailed or complex escape plan, or tell your abuser that you’re not okay. It can happen instantly and often without your control. A different response can be re-trained, but it takes more than people just telling you to defend yourself when the time comes.
The brain takes that extra power to energize other parts deemed more necessary for survival, like the amygdala, which we have no conscious control over. It receives input from various parts of the brain and then sends action signals to other parts. It’s like middle management with tenure. When your amygdala receives the input that you’re in a threatening situation, it sends out the troops as necessary. But it does far more than just trigger adrenaline; it works in tandem with the hippocampus to assess the type of threat and respond in the most appropriate way. The hippocampus is your functional memory b
I was infuriated and devastated. I called some close family members and told them what had happened; they only echoed what the advocate had said. The next day, I had a rehearsal for my play. I told everyone in the cast and crew. They were sympathetic but also didn’t have any advice about what actions I could take.
Every time someone confirmed what the rape advocate told me, I heard a voice that said, “You allowed this to happen. You let it happen.”
I imagined what would have happened if I had fought back: “Would he have tried to hurt me? That would have been evidence, right? If I had screamed and someone had heard me, they would be a witness, right? What if I had kicked him in the nuts on the way out? That would have been a defense, right?” Every scenario that conjured evidence and witnesses was in my hands, based on my actions. But my action during the assault had been to remain still and politely smile, to allow him to do what he wanted with my body. Why?
The Brain’s Responses to Threats Are Complicated
Most people know the phrase “fight or flight.” We’ve come to rely on it as an explanation for our behavior in times of high stress. The idea was first introduced by Walter B. Cannon in 1915. He observed that provoked animals released adrenaline, which gave their body the extra energy it needed to escape from or attack their predators. He proposed that human bodies work the exact same way. In some ways, he was right, but we’ve made many advancements and discoveries in the past century that shed light on our very complex response to stress. It turns out that humans don’t just run or fight when they’re scared.
I propose we get rid of this phrase entirely. It’s a false idea about instinct.
Believing fight or flight is our only response to threatening situations makes it easy to victim-blame. It becomes natural to think that if we’re only programmed to fight or run away, then anyone who doesn’t clearly wasn’t very threatened. What scientists and psychologists now understand is that the brain has a very intricate system of self-preservation. The first line of defense at certain times is not to immediately pump adrenaline but to slow down the prefrontal cortex.
Think of your brain like an electric grid. During a survival situation, you don’t lose total power to your prefrontal cortex — the area of the brain responsible for higher cognitive functions like decision-making, planning, and communicating emotion — but it does start to run on backup generators with certain non-essential functions shut down to conserve energy.
My prefrontal cortex was offline, and I didn’t have a choice to express my emotions because my brain had redirected power from that system.
This means when you’re faced with a threatening situation, you lose power to the part of your brain that can help you consciously decide what you should do next, understand how the situation will affect your future, make a detailed or complex escape plan, or tell your abuser that you’re not okay. It can happen instantly and often without your control. A different response can be re-trained, but it takes more than people just telling you to defend yourself when the time comes.
The brain takes that extra power to energize other parts deemed more necessary for survival, like the amygdala, which we have no conscious control over. It receives input from various parts of the brain and then sends action signals to other parts. It’s like middle management with tenure. When your amygdala receives the input that you’re in a threatening situation, it sends out the troops as necessary. But it does far more than just trigger adrenaline; it works in tandem with the hippocampus to assess the type of threat and respond in the most appropriate way. The hippocampus is your functional memory b
ank — the intelligent data storage the amygdala pulls from to figure out if it’s got a security protocol already in place for the type of threat.
Depending on the threat assessment, several things can happen in your brain and body, and this is why the oversimplicity of the fight or flight response is an outdated way of thinking. It’s possible you will be flooded with superhero levels of adrenaline that make you physically stronger and faster than you’ve ever been in your life. It’s also possible that your brain will see no way out and then activate your parasympathetic nervous system, which decreases heart rate and muscle tone, effectively freezing you in place.
And if you’ve ever had a similar threatening experience, your amygdala and hippocampus might deploy a remembered security protocol you previously created to cope that involves fawning, complying, or even laughing. These reactions are typically built up over time by people who experienced trauma as a child. Their brains have developed incredibly clever systems to appease abusers and avoid life-threatening situations.
Complying — and Even Smiling — Doesn’t Mean Assault Is Okay
I was abused at a very early age by a trusted figure. To survive that situation, I had to “be a good girl.” My brain developed a very smart fawning system that allowed me to protect myself by appeasing my abuser. I was not in control of this programming nor was I able to make the conscious decision to choose otherwise.
When I sat down in the salon chair in an empty locked room with sharp scissors against my neck, my brain didn’t give me the option to fight back. I was at the mercy of my programming — which meant I froze, smiled, and politely left before getting in my car and breaking down.
My prefrontal cortex was offline, and I didn’t have a choice to express my emotions because my brain had redirected power from that system. My parasympathetic nervous system weakened my muscles and decreased my blood flow to such an extreme that I was not able to physically move or respond. In that moment, I was the same little girl who had been abused before with the survival memory of “be a good girl.”
My silence was not consent, nor was the fake smile smeared across my face. Paying my abuser for my haircut and thanking him as I walked out the door was not an approval or forgiveness of his actions. It was survival programming, and it doesn’t make me weak or him any less guilty.
We cannot continue to rely on outdated assumptions about how people should respond to threatening situations. It’s imperative that we teach ourselves and others how the brain works, especially during moments of trauma and survival. Victim-blaming and shaming must end. We’re smarter and better than this.
11.6K claps

WRITTEN BY
Jenny Lee Corvo
Currently writing a memoir about my life as a highly sensitive, intuitive and empathetic person, to be published in 2019.
Follow
Platforms Are Making You Vulnerable
Trouble at Google and Facebook show how susceptible we are to losing control of our data — by accident or design
Colin Horgan
Oct 11, 2018
A Star Is Born, But Only With a Man’s Help
Bradley Cooper’s new film is not the love story it appears to be
lindsey romain
Oct 8, 2018
Stop Saying Privacy Is Dead
Our lives are still rich in personal privacy — and we should fight to keep it that way
Evan Selinger
Oct 11, 2018
Grocery Shopping with My Mother
“Do not accept nan check”
Kiese Laymon
Oct 11, 2018
Homepage
AboutHelpLegal
'
Depending on the threat assessment, several things can happen in your brain and body, and this is why the oversimplicity of the fight or flight response is an outdated way of thinking. It’s possible you will be flooded with superhero levels of adrenaline that make you physically stronger and faster than you’ve ever been in your life. It’s also possible that your brain will see no way out and then activate your parasympathetic nervous system, which decreases heart rate and muscle tone, effectively freezing you in place.
And if you’ve ever had a similar threatening experience, your amygdala and hippocampus might deploy a remembered security protocol you previously created to cope that involves fawning, complying, or even laughing. These reactions are typically built up over time by people who experienced trauma as a child. Their brains have developed incredibly clever systems to appease abusers and avoid life-threatening situations.
Complying — and Even Smiling — Doesn’t Mean Assault Is Okay
I was abused at a very early age by a trusted figure. To survive that situation, I had to “be a good girl.” My brain developed a very smart fawning system that allowed me to protect myself by appeasing my abuser. I was not in control of this programming nor was I able to make the conscious decision to choose otherwise.
When I sat down in the salon chair in an empty locked room with sharp scissors against my neck, my brain didn’t give me the option to fight back. I was at the mercy of my programming — which meant I froze, smiled, and politely left before getting in my car and breaking down.
My prefrontal cortex was offline, and I didn’t have a choice to express my emotions because my brain had redirected power from that system. My parasympathetic nervous system weakened my muscles and decreased my blood flow to such an extreme that I was not able to physically move or respond. In that moment, I was the same little girl who had been abused before with the survival memory of “be a good girl.”
My silence was not consent, nor was the fake smile smeared across my face. Paying my abuser for my haircut and thanking him as I walked out the door was not an approval or forgiveness of his actions. It was survival programming, and it doesn’t make me weak or him any less guilty.
We cannot continue to rely on outdated assumptions about how people should respond to threatening situations. It’s imperative that we teach ourselves and others how the brain works, especially during moments of trauma and survival. Victim-blaming and shaming must end. We’re smarter and better than this.
11.6K claps

WRITTEN BY
Jenny Lee Corvo
Currently writing a memoir about my life as a highly sensitive, intuitive and empathetic person, to be published in 2019.
Follow
Platforms Are Making You Vulnerable
Trouble at Google and Facebook show how susceptible we are to losing control of our data — by accident or design
Colin Horgan
Oct 11, 2018
A Star Is Born, But Only With a Man’s Help
Bradley Cooper’s new film is not the love story it appears to be
lindsey romain
Oct 8, 2018
Stop Saying Privacy Is Dead
Our lives are still rich in personal privacy — and we should fight to keep it that way
Evan Selinger
Oct 11, 2018
Grocery Shopping with My Mother
“Do not accept nan check”
Kiese Laymon
Oct 11, 2018
Homepage
AboutHelpLegal
'
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
Forwarded from 🔊 @NotesOnRefuge • Live Collaborative Notes On Refuge • Intuitive Public Radio • IPR ••• (Max (Meg Morris))
' As we look at the research on mold toxicity and toxins in general, we propose that the medical community (by all its names) has focused too much on the “yellow canaries” and missed the big picture that toxins have now become a primary driver of disease in the general population, not only among those most susceptible.
The mold toxicity conundrum illustrates this issue quite well.
As summarized in this editorial, there clearly is a portion of the population, the size of which is currently unknown, who experience neurological and/or immunological damage from mold toxicity.
In addition, a substantial portion of the population experiences chronic respiratory problems from mold exposure.
This does not mean we should stop paying attention to our more affected patients.
Rather, we need to realize that almost everyone is being affected by toxins to some degree: molds, metals, solvents, persistent organic pollutants, etc. '
https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC4982651/
The mold toxicity conundrum illustrates this issue quite well.
As summarized in this editorial, there clearly is a portion of the population, the size of which is currently unknown, who experience neurological and/or immunological damage from mold toxicity.
In addition, a substantial portion of the population experiences chronic respiratory problems from mold exposure.
This does not mean we should stop paying attention to our more affected patients.
Rather, we need to realize that almost everyone is being affected by toxins to some degree: molds, metals, solvents, persistent organic pollutants, etc. '
https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC4982651/
PubMed Central (PMC)
Is Mold Toxicity Really a Problem for Our Patients? Part 2—Nonrespiratory Conditions
In my last editorial, I addressed the respiratory effects of mold exposure. The surprising research shows that as many as 50% of residential and work environments have water damage1 and that mold toxicity should be considered in all patients with ...
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
Forwarded from 🔊 @NotesOnRefuge • Live Collaborative Notes On Refuge • Intuitive Public Radio • IPR ••• (Max (Meg Morris))
' An important study suggests that individuals exposed to satratoxin (SH), a trichothecene, and microbial organisms results in a chronic immune response (inflammation and oxidative stress) leading to neural damage.18
Their results demonstrate that “regardless of whether the neurons were exposed to SH alone or under additive effects, the sensitivity of the neurons to these compounds is high and neurological system cell damage can occur from SH exposure.”
In addition, these data demonstrate that constant activation of inflammatory and apoptotic pathways at low levels amplifies the devastation and leads to neurological cell damage from indirect events triggered by the presence of a trichothecene mycotoxin.
And they concluded, “From this study and others, we show that neurological system cell damage from exposure to mycotoxins is a potential public health threat for occupants of water-damaged buildings.” '
https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC4982651/
Their results demonstrate that “regardless of whether the neurons were exposed to SH alone or under additive effects, the sensitivity of the neurons to these compounds is high and neurological system cell damage can occur from SH exposure.”
In addition, these data demonstrate that constant activation of inflammatory and apoptotic pathways at low levels amplifies the devastation and leads to neurological cell damage from indirect events triggered by the presence of a trichothecene mycotoxin.
And they concluded, “From this study and others, we show that neurological system cell damage from exposure to mycotoxins is a potential public health threat for occupants of water-damaged buildings.” '
https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC4982651/
PubMed Central (PMC)
Is Mold Toxicity Really a Problem for Our Patients? Part 2—Nonrespiratory Conditions
In my last editorial, I addressed the respiratory effects of mold exposure. The surprising research shows that as many as 50% of residential and work environments have water damage1 and that mold toxicity should be considered in all patients with ...
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
Forwarded from 🔊 @NotesOnRefuge • Live Collaborative Notes On Refuge • Intuitive Public Radio • IPR ••• (Max (Meg Morris))
Twitter
Gregory Mansfield
On this Disability Day of Mourning, let us rightfully focus on those disabled people who are murdered by family & caregivers rather than those who demonize & dehumanize us, dismiss us as “burdens” & use that as a basis to excuse killing us. #DDoM2019
Forwarded from 🔊 @DysIntuitive • Disability & Dysbiosis • Dysfunction • DisIntuitive, DysIntuitive • IPR ••• (Max (Meg Morris))
Twitter
Alice Wong
CW: murder, filicide, ableism, violence, violence, abuse, torture, hate Today is the 2019 Disability Day of Mourning. You might wonder what this is about. If you are an ally/co-conspirator with the disability community, listen to us & learn. #DDoM2019 #DDoM…
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
Forwarded from /r/Pics
Forwarded from /r/Pics
Forwarded from /r/Pics
Here's my contribution to #trashtag. My (large) family and I cleaned up this beach we camped near over the summer!
http://redd.it/azai72
http://redd.it/azai72
Forwarded from /r/Pics
Forwarded from /r/Pics