Part 1 of a two-part series.
Let's unpack a common question people who come from relational trauma backgrounds ask: "Why am I so negative?" Let's discuss the scientific reasons why developmental trauma primes the brain for negativity. Then, we will look at how the brain can be rewired for positivity through several evidence-based interventions.
Let me begin by saying that I have yet to meet someone from a relational trauma background who sees the world as "glass half full" versus "glass half empty."
If you do come from a relational trauma background and yet still have an overwhelmingly optimistic attitude, that's amazing.
But for the rest of us, for the majority of us who have experienced relational trauma, we may live with a persistent sense of discontent and possibly a deeply ingrained negativity bias.
Because of this, the question, "Why am I so negative?" is likely something we've asked ourselves or others have asked us many times over the years.
It's a question people have asked me before, "Why are you so negative?"
When I was younger, that kind of questioning used to make me feel ashamed.
Now, it makes me a little angry and self-protectively defensive.
Look, developmental trauma is not an equal-opportunity affliction.
Nor are its impacts.
Coming from a relational trauma history makes us different than our non-traumatized peers.
That's the first point I really want you to hear as we discuss the question, "Why am I so negative?"
So negative compared to who?
Compared to your non-traumatized peers or your peers from relational trauma backgrounds who may have endured comparable life experiences as you?
I don't like comparison in general, but if you're going to compare yourself to anyone when asking the question, "Why am I so negative?" compare yourself to a comparable peer group, for starters.
OK, now, with that hopeful validation and normalization out of the way, let's really unpack how and why relational trauma/developmental trauma experiences can create negativity in our brains and shape how we see the world.
Understanding why negative thoughts persist after developmental trauma involves exploring the incredibly complex neural landscape.
Keeping with the analogy of landscaping, the brain of individuals who have experienced trauma resembles a chaotic terrain.
Prolonged stress during formative years disrupts the delicate balance of the HPA (hypothalamic-pituitary-adrenal) axis, leading to significant changes in cortisol levels.
These altered cortisol levels strongly affect the amygdala, a key player in our emotional responses, shaping our perceptions and reactions to the world.
The amygdala, a key player in the brain's emotional system, becomes extra active after trauma.
This increased activity triggers a higher level of fear and anxiety, making the person more prone to viewing situations as threats, even if they're not.
This heightened sensitivity to potential dangers can become the brain's default setting, fueling negative thinking and reactions.
At the same time, chronic stress negatively impacts the prefrontal cortex, which is responsible for rational thought and functions like planning and decision-making.
The neural connections in this region may weaken, making it challenging for individuals to manage their emotions, think clearly, and respond logically to their surroundings.
This difficulty reinforces negative thought patterns as the person struggles to confront or understand their fears and anxieties.
Furthermore, the hippocampus, essential for memory formation and recall, can also be affected.
Prolonged stress may reduce hippocampal volume, impacting the ability to create new memories and distorting past recollections.
This distortion can reinforce negative self-perceptions and worldviews, as traumatic memories are more easily remembered than positive ones.
In addition to all of this, neural pathways, akin to footprints in the sand, are carved and recarved by our thought patterns.
For those of us with developmental trauma, the loop of negativity—negative thought triggers, fixed automatic responses, internalization of a negative narrative, and reinforcement of negative beliefs—becomes a highway, a default mode hardly noticed as its worn grooves take us down familiar, yet crushing, mental journeys.
OK, so that's a lot of information that hopefully helps you (compassionately) understand how and why your brain may be predisposed to negativity if you come from a developmental trauma background.
But if you're asking the question, "Why am I so negative?" chances are high you're not just clinically curious about why this is; you're likely looking to change the predisposition you have towards negative thinking.
The good news, while not easy, is that the brain is plastic and can change up until the day we die if we learn new skills, memorize new information, or provide ourselves with new experiences.
References
Cranston, C. (2014). A Review of the Effects of Prolonged Exposure to Cortisol on the Regulation of the HPA Axis: Implications for the Development and Maintenance of Posttraumatic Stress Disorder. The New School psychology bulletin, 11, 1-13.
Shin, L. (2009). The Amygdala in Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder. , 319-334. https://doi.org/10.1007/978-1-60327-329-9_15.
Sripada, R., King, A., Welsh, R., Garfinkel, S., Wang, X., Sripada, C., & Liberzon, I. (2012). Neural Dysregulation in Posttraumatic Stress Disorder: Evidence for Disrupted Equilibrium Between Salience and Default Mode Brain Networks. Psychosomatic Medicine, 74, 904–911. https://doi.org/10.1097/PSY.0b013e318273bf33.
Rahman, M., Callaghan, C., Kerskens, C., Chattarji, S., & O’Mara, S. (2016). Early hippocampal volume loss as a marker of eventual memory deficits caused by repeated stress. Scientific Reports, 6. https://doi.org/10.1038/srep29127.
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