Chances are, you’ve heard of the confrontation letter you never send or venting out your frustrations to an empty chair. What do they have in common? They are both old school methods for “telling off” the person who hurt you when confronting them in person is pointless. They are a means of gaining both closure and clarity by getting it off your chest.
One drawback to the old school methods is that we’re using only one major pathway to process our trauma. Confrontation letter: written word. Empty chair: verbal processing. Therefore, it can take several sessions to arrive at our closure, if at all. Far from dismissing these tools, however, when we get just a little bit creative, we can mix it up for maximum benefits.
The thing about trauma is the more pathways we use when processing it, the more effective it is for healing. Last week when I talked about somatic work, you may recall what I said about martial arts. Martial arts are highly effective for fight types or for traumas that bring up lots of anger. This is because it incorporates focus and discipline into the expression of anger. In other words, the anger is being processed more effectively by utilizing other pathways. This same principle can be applied to other means of processing our trauma and managing our flashbacks (Trauma Glossary 2).
The Confrontation Letter
If the written word is your preferred method of processing, you may experience some major relief from this one. It’s that strongly worded letter you never send. The confrontation letter addresses two things: 1) What was done to you and 2) How it impacted you. This is for dumping out the thoughts and feelings you’ve kept bottled up for too long. It’s giving your trauma a chance to finally be heard. It’s imagining what you would say to your abuser, if only they couldn’t use their “skills” to shut you down. (E.g., gaslighting, DARVO, JADE, among others listed in Trauma Glossary 1.)
However, there’s a difference between temporary relief and satisfying our trauma’s need for closure. Sometimes, we can feel so overwhelmed by our feelings, that the prospect of getting it all out feels infinite. Fortunately, there’s more than one way to take this basic concept and infuse it with creativity. Mix it up for maximum benefits.
Switch from Prose to Poetry
Rhyme that confrontation letter! Poetry is to writing as martial arts are to fight types. If the prospect of writing several pages feels draining, but you still have a need to get it out, poetry is a great alternative.
This happened to me when I remembered how young I was when my enabler father started telling me that I would be just like my borderline (Trauma Glossary 1) mother when I grew up. My rage flashbacks overwhelmed me for over a year. The idea of writing out my feelings gave me a vision of filling up a full notebook and still gaining no satisfaction. Then one day, I got creative and I took my control back. I wrote my father a confrontation rap. (I shared those lyrics at the end of my prequel comic book.)
Poetry forces you to use fewer words while doing so with more structured creativity than you get out of long prose. When I started rhyming my letter to my father, I got a stack of notecards. Each card had only two to four lines. I started with a short, simple line and then used this rhyming site. I used the last word of my line as a keyword search for words that rhymed with it, then found a word that prompted me to fill in my next line, and so on. Then I structured those cards into a fleshed-out poem. Many of my notecards didn’t make the cut, as in many incidents, I was finding multiple rhymes for delivering the same point.
Don’t want to rhyme? No problem!
Poetry doesn’t have to rhyme. For example, there’s the haiku, free verse, blank verse, none of which rhyme but each has its own unique structure. That’s the most important element here, because it’s providing more pathways for your self-expression. The more pathways you give it, the greater your chances are of gaining permanent control.
There are actually fifteen different types of poetic forms. If you’d like more information on what they are, Billy Collins at masterclass.com is a great resource!. Not only does he have a click-friendly jump to section, but if you click on “15 Types of Poetic Forms” he has single paragraph definitions, each with an option to click for examples.
Mixing it up with more creativity
Keep checking in with yourself. Are your feelings satisfied or do you need more?
Add some music!
Yes, I know, I’ve heard from literally every musician that I was supposed to find my music first and THEN structure my lines. Well, it forced me to make even more cuts with my confrontation rap and get straight to the core problem.
Act it out or perform it!
Once I had my rap structured to music, I performed it, even had kickboxing included, so that not only did I tell him off, but I also kicked his butt! (See? I used even more pathways!)
Something to watch or something to listen to
I recorded my performance. Then I watched and listened to my rap every day, sometimes several times a day for about three weeks. That’s how long it took me to at last bring closure to all that overwhelming rage I had at my father.
Gratitude Letter: Confrontation’s Counterpart
A lot has been said about practicing daily gratitude as a means of getting more out of our present day lives. We can do the same thing when processing our trauma. Believe me, this often overlooked aspect can go a long way in relieving that pain when we’re remembering the past.
Remember when we were children, and our Cluster B (Trauma Glossary 1) parents didn’t care about all the pain they were causing us? As children, the easiest assumption to make was: If my own parents don’t care, then no one else will. The truth is, there was at least one person in your life who would have cared had they only known. We simply didn’t notice it at the time because we were too busy trying to survive an adverse home.
The gratitude letter addresses the same concepts as the confrontation letter: tell the person what they did for you and how it affected you. In the gratitude letter, you’re simply telling the good person how they impacted your life in a positive way. Don’t overthink the latter part. It’s enough to acknowledge that they represented something good while you were enduring something they couldn’t imagine.
How to begin and what to expect
Start with a list of the good people who were in your life and match them to your traumas. Be specific. As you think of each trauma, was there a friend, teacher, relative, etc. who acted as a light (however small that light was) in your dark world? Write them a gratitude letter!
A good gratitude prompt would be: Dear ___ Thank you for being in my life when (your age at the time of your trauma). You didn’t know this, but I was going through (whatever happened to you). Your (friendship/compassion/safe place away from home) was something I desperately needed. I know I’m a better person today because you were in it. Notice we are thanking the GOOD in our lives. Never, ever, thank the abuser for the person you became!
Just like the confrontation letter, you don’t have to send it. However, if you send it, be sure you do it for yourself, first. Don’t expect to get feedback from every gratitude letter you send. Be okay with the personal fulfillment, knowing you sent something positive to someone who deserves it. Think of them responding to your letter as a bonus. But I guarantee you, if they respond to your letter, you will not only experience validation but also the empowerment one experiences in a positive feedback loop (Master Toolbox 1 under tools for Negative Noticing).
Empty Chair
Where basic, old school concepts are concerned, it can be seen as the next level up from the confrontation letter. This is particularly great for angry flashbacks. The reason is due to the high level of energy that anger produces. Anger is fully capable of making the body crave a little more action than the process of sitting quietly with your strongly worded letter. The empty chair gives you a chance to use your voice while imagining the one who hurt you occupying the seat. Bawl that person out! Tell them everything you always wanted to say when you were too small and helpless to counter their abuse. Your memories alone will automatically fill in their typical responses. Keep firing back, verbally abuse them, show them how it feels being on the receiving end of emotional abuse.
For best results, turn this into a nightly ritual. Think of the least occupied room in your house (garage, basement, guest room) and place a chair in there, even if it’s one of your dining room chairs. Now you have a place “reserved” for your abuser that isn’t infringing on the rooms you most often use. Go to that room every day and unleash your fury. Believe it or not, you’ll notice a significant drop in anger within a month or two.
Two chairs, switching perspectives
This technique is for gaining clarity. It’s about trying to understand why something happened and where the other person was coming from. You talk to the person, giving your perspective and then switch seats, assuming the role of the other person. You’re basically “having a conversation” by switching chairs. First, I don’t recommend switching chairs with anyone who engineered CPTSD. Your Cluster B parents programmed you enough to always consider their needs at the sake of your own. Besides, your childhood experiences have given you enough “script” for knowing how they would respond.
I used the two chairs method when I “confronted” my first therapist (who I continually refer to as Dr. Quack). I told her how her chronic dismissal and invalidation of my trauma set me back for a whopping total of twelve years. I switched chairs and assumed the role of her so-called superior knowledge that was always delivered through a plastered smile. A couple of times into chair switching, I realized that she was unable to empathize with my pain because Dr. Quack was a cerebral narcissist. No wonder I had been retraumatized by her in every session and had been so easily hooked into proving myself.
Switching chairs with yourself from the past
Have plenty of tissues on hand if you approach this one. It’s for practicing self-compassion and working through the grieving process. It’s one of many ways we can practice inner child work and reparenting. (Both are tools listed in Master Toolbox 1 for working through the critic.) Have a conversation with yourself at the time of your trauma. Hold space for your inner child to talk about what it was enduring. Be the safe adult who’s on the child’s side.
Don’t be surprised if your inner child has questions for adult you. In one of my therapy sessions, I switched chairs with my summer of ’86 trauma. Twelve-year-old me reminded adult me that what kept her going that summer was being happy some day when she was all grown up. She then asked adult me if “we” were happy today. I had no idea how to answer that, but it infused within me an iron will to champion for that child. It drove home the importance of being kinder to myself in order to stay true to her.