“One need not be a chamber to be haunted, one need not be a house; the brain has corridors surpassing material place.” — Emily Dickinson
In numerous cultures since antiquity, ghosts have captivated our attention. From scaring children and adults on Halloween to televised paranormal investigations, the concept of such spirits blurs the line between what is and what is no longer — creating a cautious curiosity about what lies just outside the bounds of our existence. A common thread running through most ghost mythology is that they appear as something leftover: a ripple expressing the impact of a prior event that has not been completely put to rest. When a ghost appears, the place in which that occurs is said to be haunted.
Given what we know about how memory works, it could be said that we are all haunted houses.
Memory as Haunting
The old Norse word heimta means “to bring home.” While remembered events are clearly no longer occurring, some sensory or emotional residue may remain in the narrative form of a memory — and that memory may present itself to us in present circumstances, often unbidden. Not all experiences are remembered; however, those which hold greater meaning, particularly emotionally significant or traumatic ones, are more likely to resurface in current contexts.
Some of those memories may be wonderful to re-experience — the smell or taste of a favorite childhood food, the softness of a first kiss, the sight of a spouse on a wedding day. Others can be quite torturous.
When they do appear, many ghosts present themselves subtly and unobtrusively — a passing association, a vague sense of unease. Hardly something to be concerned about. But at other times, our ghosts can become loud and potentially disruptive — jolting us from sleep, transforming into intrusive images, or causing us to relive something upsetting in ways that demand our attention.
How We Respond to Haunting
Depending on how frightening or disruptive the ghostly presence feels, we often try to manage the emotional impact — either by minimizing what occurred or by modulating the experience into something less threatening, in order to maintain our sense of security in how the world works.
These are common responses to traumatic experiences as well. Imagine walking home safely from work each day for years, holding a settled belief that the world is a good place — and then being mugged. The structures maintaining that belief may be shaken. To lessen the disruptive impact of the new experience, one might dissociate certain remembered elements of the event, or disconnect from the more frightening emotional aspects of it through numbing. These psychological measures can serve an important adaptive function: protecting us from being overwhelmed by the full impact of what happened.
When the Ghosts Demand Attention
What happens, though, when a traumatic experience is not adequately put to rest — when the ghosts demand attention despite our efforts to quiet them?
The next walk home from work, in the example above, may be littered with reminders — not only of the event itself, but of a new and unsettling sense of danger regarding the uncertain nature of the world. Two broad responses become available: avoid the reminders, or turn toward the new and uncertain possibilities that the experience has opened.
If one avoids, anxiety is likely to reduce in the short term. But the cost is a shrinking experiential world — certain rooms in the haunted house must be sealed off to avoid encountering the ghosts, making the house less accessible and increasingly isolating.
If one turns toward the ghosts and acknowledges them — regardless of the discomfort that may entail — their power can, over time, be reduced. This is not a comfortable path. It requires risk and vulnerability: stepping forth into a world that no longer feels as safe or predictable as it once did. But it is the path through.
What This Means
None of these choices is inherently more valuable than the others. Some ghosts’ disruptions are tolerable and may not make much difference in one’s life. Others are not tolerable — and addressing them requires the kind of sustained, honest engagement that is difficult to do alone.
We exist as people who are, in some sense, haunted houses — internalizing and bringing experiences home with us, some of which are uninvited. Continually creating meaningful connections — a support system, a trusted relationship, a skilled therapist — can help integrate these experiences, and keep us, as it were, among the living.
If something from the past has been surfacing for you in ways that feel disruptive or hard to make sense of, our clinicians would be glad to help. In-person in Denver and telehealth throughout Colorado. Call 720-675-7918 or request an appointment online.