The streets are decked out in Christmas lights, and the air is filled with the hopeful warmth of the festive season. But beneath this glittering surface, for some, the cheer feels distant and unreal, as if seen through a thick pane of glass. In the wake of a major traumatic event, like the recent Tai Po fire in Hong Kong, it can feel as though one's inner world is still stuck in that grey moment.
When society urges us to "move on" and "cheer up," perhaps the kindest and most powerful gift we can offer ourselves and others is to truly understand what trauma is.
In modern psychiatry, we often use the framework of a "Trauma Spectrum" to understand post-traumatic reactions. This concept, widely integrated into authoritative diagnostic manuals like the DSM-5, tells us that the impact of trauma is not a single event but a continuous process, leaving different imprints on our minds and bodies over time.
Imagine that when we experience a profound shock, the body sounds its most urgent alarm. This is an Acute Stress Reaction (ASR), occurring within hours to days of the event. That sense of your mind going blank, feeling emotionally numb, or a feeling of unreality—"like you're watching a film"—is the body's way of hitting the 'pause button' to protect us. At a festive dinner, the simple 'pop' of a champagne cork could be enough to bring back that feeling of unresolved shock.
Sometimes, however, this alarm system fails to switch off. This may lead to Acute Stress Disorder (ASD), typically within a month of the event. The traumatic scenes begin to "flash back" involuntarily, nightmares make the nights long, and once-enjoyed activities lose their appeal. To avoid triggering these painful feelings, people instinctively begin to "avoid"—staying away from certain places and shying away from related topics. This is not weakness, but an incredibly draining self-preservation mechanism.
If this state persists for more than a month, the traumatic memory becomes like a misfiled document. Instead of being stored in the "past events" cabinet, it's mistakenly placed in the "immediate threats" tray. This is Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD). Its core problem is that the trauma becomes 'frozen' or 'stuck' in time, leaving the brain and body unable to recognise that the danger has passed. As psychiatrist Bessel van der Kolk profoundly illustrates in his classic book, The Body Keeps the Score, trauma is not just an unpleasant memory but something deeply imprinted in our bodies and brains, altering our very physiology.
For this reason, festive gatherings can cruelly highlight one's own sense of isolation and loss.
|
Feature |
Acute Stress Reaction (ASR) |
Acute Stress Disorder (ASD) |
Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD) |
|
Timeline |
Hours to days after the event |
3 days to 1 month after the event |
Symptoms persist for more than 1 month |
|
Core State |
Immediate, direct shock response; feeling detached, numb |
Shock response continues, with specific symptoms like flashbacks, nightmares, and avoidance emerging |
The traumatic memory becomes 'frozen' in the mind-body system; symptoms become chronic |
|
Simple Analogy |
The body's "emergency alarm" sounds |
The alarm "keeps ringing" and won't switch off |
The memory is "misfiled," causing the alarm system to continually misjudge threats |
Faced with this "frozen memory," whether you are experiencing it yourself or supporting someone who is, we can all learn gentle ways to coexist with it.
The most crucial step is to bravely acknowledge the difficulty rather than tiptoeing around it. A simple, "I know this time of year might be difficult for you, and I'm here for you," holds far more power than pretending everything is normal.
Instead of a vague "let me know if you need anything," offer more practical, down-to-earth support. For example: "I'm just having a quiet night in watching a film, fancy coming over to just chill?" This quiet companionship is often more precious than any advice. Respect their boundaries; if they decline a party invitation, understand it's not personal but a necessary act of conserving their limited energy. Make space for their grief. If they need to cry or talk about their loss, your listening ear is the greatest comfort.
Remember, the most important part of recovery is to first be gentle with yourself. It is perfectly okay to feel sad during a time of celebration.
If traditional festive rituals feel painful, try creating new, more comfortable ones for yourself. This could be taking a long bus ride, just watching the world go by; finding a familiar café for a favourite comfort meal; or settling in at home with a hot chocolate and putting on a comforting old film. When your thoughts are in turmoil, try to bring your attention back to your body—the feeling of warm water over your hands, or the rhythm of your own breathing. These simple practices can act as an anchor, bringing us steadily back to the "here and now" from the stormy seas of memory.
The path to recovery is clear: from daily self-care to trauma-focused therapy, and medication support if symptoms persist. While daily care is indeed the cornerstone for stabilising emotions, when symptoms severely impact daily life, more professional methods are required to truly 'process' that frozen memory.
The most effective, evidence-based treatment for trauma recognised by the international medical community is Trauma-Focused Psychotherapy. Its core philosophy is not to force you to confront or re-live pain. Instead, under the protection of a professional therapist, it provides a completely safe space for you to systematically revisit, understand, and digest that 'frozen' memory. The process is like having an expert guide lead you into a dusty room, where you sort through scattered old belongings, cleaning and putting each one back in its proper place.
The goal of therapy is to help your brain complete the unfinished job of "sorting", allowing it to truly understand: "The danger has passed." Through this process, the constantly ringing internal alarm can finally be switched off, allowing life to return to a normal track.
Medicine doesn’t remove grief or heal the trauma on its own, but when symptoms are severe or persistent and interfere with daily life or therapy, it can provide genuine help.
Common examples:
These medications are valuable supports and work best alongside trauma-focused psychotherapy.
The road to recovery may be long, but you do not have to walk it alone. May peace and calm find their way to every heart that needs them this season.