Trauma With a Small ‘t’
A reflection on control, kindness, and the unexpected impact of ordinary events
Originally published in 2022. This version has been lightly edited and updated.
When a Simple Journey Changed Direction
A man was once driving in his car. He was picking up a present for his child when he started to notice something wrong with his car. Fearing he might break down, he decided to turn around and drive home carefully.
As he drove, the noises grew worse, turning the heads of passers-by. He felt self-conscious and embarrassed.
The noise grew worse and, looking in the wing mirror, the driver noticed plumes of smoke coming from somewhere. Pulling over to the side of the road, he turned off the engine and got out of his car. He looked at the wheel and saw the flames.
He ran to a house and knocked on the door. Nobody answered. He crossed the road and knocked on another door. The lady answered and he asked her for a bucket of water. When she returned, he ran back to the car and threw it on the flames.
It continued to burn.
A man on a bicycle came over and squirted his water bottle on it.
It continued to burn.
Then a van pulled up. A window cleaner. He pulled out a hosepipe, rushed over and began to pour water over the fire whilst the driver looked on in shock.
Stunned, the driver phoned the fire brigade after the woman with the bucket, a former 999 operative, encouraged him to do so.
A second van stopped. An AA mechanic. Once the fire was out, he directed the window cleaner and checked the temperature of the car as the window cleaner continued to cool it down to stop it from setting alight again.
Eventually the fire engine came and ensured the fire was completely out. They checked the car over and one of the firefighters, who had just come from another car fire where the vehicle had been completely destroyed, informed the man that the car was potentially salvageable.
The window cleaner had probably saved it.
The window cleaner shook the man's hand when the driver thanked him for his help and then quietly left.
The Quiet Aftermath
I know this is a long-winded little story. It happened in the space of about twenty minutes.
The following five and a half hours waiting for the tow truck gave me time to experience anger, frustration, fear and uncertainty.
I spent almost an hour with the lady and her husband who had provided me with a bucket of water. We talked about shock and loss. We talked about our pasts. Our battles with cancer, Covid and addiction.
Later, watching the sun set, I felt an enormous sense of calm.
By having that unexpected space, that time to think and reflect, I found myself deeply moved by the kindness of strangers. People can come into your life and quietly leave, often unaware of the impact they have had.
A kind couple ensured I was safe and offered me tea and understanding.
A window cleaner gallantly came to my rescue and then quietly left like the cowboys of old films.
A mechanic offered advice and reassurance about what I might need to do to get my car back on the road.
When the Mind Keeps Driving
All in all, it was a traumatic experience.
Now, whenever I get into the car I am driving, I find myself listening intently. The slightest sound or bump begins thoughts that escalate like a car on a racetrack, careering towards a barrier.
Not long afterwards we were travelling on the motorway on a blazing hot day, the little car full of family and pets. Two fire extinguishers sat under my seat.
Later, after a long delay, we drove past the cause of the traffic. Three cars involved in a collision. One of them a burnt ash-grey shell.
I am alive and, in truth, I was probably never in any real danger.
The right people appeared at the right time.
Yet I still found myself reflecting on the choices I had made and how once we make a decision events unfold and consequences follow. Each choice leads to another.
Sometimes I caught myself second-guessing those decisions.
Sometimes the simplest events can create anxieties and pauses, leaving us uncertain and unsure. Not distrusting ourselves in everything, but in enough things to change our mood.
Of course, I am aware of this and the reasons behind it, and I am confident it will pass.
But it reminds me of the importance of balance. As a therapist, it reminds me of the value of perspective, reflection and self-kindness in helping us move through moments like this.
The Kindness of Strangers
I am comforted by the idea that strangers can sometimes feel like angels.
They appear in unexpected moments, offering help, reassurance or simply presence, before quietly returning to their own lives.
If we allow ourselves to notice these moments, to listen and to accept them, we can sometimes find comfort in places we might otherwise overlook.
Trauma With a Small ‘t’
Trauma can affect people’s lives in many different ways.
The more we understand trauma, the more we begin to notice the subtle ways it can shape behaviour and thinking.
Psychiatrist Judith Herman (1992) suggested that trauma is not defined solely by the event itself but by the person’s subjective experience of it. In other words, everyday trauma can be understood through its impact rather than the intensity of the event.
When I first reflected on this experience, I hesitated to call it trauma with a capital "T". Nobody was injured. I was not harmed and the situation could have been far worse.
Instead, I began to think of it as trauma with a small "t".
That is not to minimise its impact. Rather, it recognises that events can still leave an imprint even when they do not involve catastrophic harm.
I did not experience flashbacks, nightmares or paralysing anxiety.
But something had still shifted.
When the Brain Starts Noticing Everything
Prior to the fire I had been working on the car, replacing brake discs and pads on the rear wheels.
This led me to experience something known as frequency illusion, also called the Baader-Meinhof phenomenon.
It is a cognitive bias where, after noticing something once, we begin to see it everywhere.
Because I had been working on the car's brakes, I had already become more sensitive to noises around the wheels.
After the fire, I became hyper-aware of any similar sounds.
A few days later I witnessed the aftermath of another crash and saw the burnt-out shell of another car. That image reinforced the anxiety.
Later still, when my own car was written off by the insurance company and I needed to buy another, I found myself checking MOT histories. Any advisory relating to brakes or wheels immediately stopped me in my tracks.
The anxiety, mixed with the need for a car and the fear that I might unknowingly buy something unsafe, filled me with self-doubt.
I knew what was happening.
I understood the psychology.
But that did not immediately make it easier to shift.
Taking Back Control
Experiences like this show how the mind attempts to protect us. When something distressing happens, our awareness sharpens and we begin scanning for signs that it might happen again.
Judith Herman's work reminds us that trauma is shaped by personal meaning and impact, while cognitive biases such as the Baader-Meinhof phenomenon explain why certain cues suddenly appear everywhere. Together they highlight how the mind attempts to make sense of an unsettling event.
For me, the turning point came through a conversation with a friend and fellow therapist who suggested that sometimes the answer is not to dismiss the anxiety but to mitigate the risk.
Not long afterwards I spoke with a friend who shared their experience following a car crash. They explained that in order to drive again they had needed to mitigate what had happened.
Anxiety about something that might happen can often be challenged.
But anxiety about something that has happened carries evidence.
The way forward, sometimes, is not to dismiss the anxiety but to prepare for the possibility.
They suggested something simple. Buy a fire extinguisher for the car.
As they spoke, I walked to the boot and took out the extinguisher I had bought the day after the fire.
One for me.
One for my wife.
There was the answer.
Mitigation.
Preparing for the possibility helped me reclaim a sense of control.
AIM: A Simple Way to Regain Control
Since then, I have played with this idea and developed a simple acronym that helps frame situations like this.
AIM
Activating event
Car wheel caught fire.
Impact on me
Anxiety. Doubt. What if it happens again?
Mitigate
Buy a fire extinguisher.
This does not change what happened.
But it gives me a sense of agency over what might happen next.
It allows me to move forward without ignoring the experience.
Moving Forward
Trauma with a small "t" is still trauma.
It can pause us. It can shake our confidence. It can leave us feeling powerless or uncertain.
But sometimes, by finding even a small way to reclaim control, we can begin to move forward again.
References
Herman, J. (1992). Trauma and Recovery. Basic Books.
Counselling Tutor. Everyday Trauma.
https://counselling-tutor.s3.eu-west-2.amazonaws.com/Podcasts/Everyday+Trauma.pdf
Sincerely Yours, Paul
Transparency notice:
This post was developed with the assistance of AI and carefully reviewed, edited and approved by the author.