When Fear Takes Over

When a child is afraid, they experience a powerful emotional response to a perceived threat or danger. This fear can be triggered by a wide range of stimuli, such as loud noises, unfamiliar situations, or frightening images. Fear is closely linked to anxious emotions, as both involve a heightened sense of worry and unease. When a child feels afraid, they may experience physical symptoms like a racing heart, sweating, trembling, or a knot in their stomach. Emotionally, they may feel overwhelmed, helpless, or desperate to escape the situation.

In the brain, fear activates the amygdala, which is responsible for processing emotions and triggering the "fight, flight, or freeze" response. This response prepares the body to react to the perceived threat by releasing stress hormones like cortisol and adrenaline. In children who have experienced trauma, the fear response can be easily triggered and more intense than in children without a history of trauma. Traumatized children may be hypervigilant, constantly scanning their environment for potential threats, and may react strongly to seemingly minor stressors. They may also struggle with regulating their emotions and may experience frequent nightmares, flashbacks, or intrusive thoughts related to their traumatic experiences. These children may benefit from trauma-informed parenting approaches that prioritize safety, predictability, and emotional support to help them feel more secure and better able to cope with their fears.

Sarah huddled close to her older sister Mary as their wagon lurched and creaked along the rutted trail. Pa urged the oxen onward from his perch at the front while Ma tended to baby Josiah beside them, her face drawn with weariness. They had been traveling for months on this seemingly endless westward journey, leaving behind everything familiar in search of a new life in the Oregon territory. But all 9-year-old Sarah could feel was bone-deep fear.

Fear had become her constant companion, haunting her waking and sleeping hours alike. It churned in her stomach and prickled along her skin. She was afraid of the vast unknown stretching before them with no end in sight. Afraid of the strange lands and peoples they encountered. Afraid of sickness sweeping through their wagon train and striking down her family, as it had already taken several others. Afraid of the wild animals that howled and roared in the night just beyond the flickering circle of firelight.

But most of all, Sarah was terrified that some fresh danger or tragedy would rip away what little stability she had left. Before starting this journey, Sarah had already lost so much. She barely remembered her real ma and pa, taken by typhoid when she was just four. Torn from the only home she knew, Sarah was sent to live with her aunt, uncle and cousins. At first they treated her kindly, but as the years passed and their own burdens grew, the affection slowly soured into neglect and harsh words.

When news came of land and opportunity out west, Sarah's adopted family chose to leave her behind yet again, abandoning her to an orphanage. Only by the grace of God did a neighboring couple, the Meyers, welcome Sarah into their wagon to join their own brood of children. The Meyers were good, generous people but still practically strangers to Sarah. Everything was so unfamiliar and unsettling.

As the wagon train rolled onwards, Sarah tried to smother her fears and be brave like Mary always urged. But her sister's confident front couldn't completely mask the worry lines around her eyes that mirrored Ma and Pa's. Sarah knew deep in her marrow that none of them were truly safe here in this wild, untamed land with perils lurking around every bend.

The long days and nights blurred together into an endless litany of dust, sweat, hunger and exhaustion. And overwhelming fear, Sarah's unwanted yet inescapable fellow traveler. When she managed to drift into a fitful doze against Mary's shoulder, dark dreams plagued her - dreams of being left all alone again, of everyone she loved vanishing like mist. Sarah would jerk awake with tears on her cheeks and a scream locked behind her teeth.

One day, their wagon train was fording a rushing river swollen with spring snowmelt when disaster struck. Sarah watched in helpless terror as the Jensens' wagon ahead of them overturned in the current, spilling screaming children into the churning water. By the time the men managed to right the wagon and pull the family back to shore, Mrs. Jensen's little boy Jacob could not be revived, his lips blue and still.

Something broke open inside Sarah at the sight, unleashing a flood of fear and grief too long held in check. Sobs wracked her frame as Mary held her close, murmuring words of comfort that couldn't stem the tide of Sarah's anguish. All the anxiety and dread she had been tamping down from a life askew surged through her veins. Sarah clung to her sister and wept for Jacob, for herself, for every loss and uprooting she had endured in her nine short years.

Gradually, as her violent tears subsided into shuddering breaths and hiccups, Sarah felt the tight vice grip of fear around her heart loosen just a fraction. A tiny seed of realization took root in the depths of her mind. She had survived before when her world shattered and she lost everything dear. She was still here, still breathing, still putting one foot in front of the other. Maybe, just maybe, she had the strength to keep going, to endure whatever trials lay ahead. Her fear remained, an ever-present shadow, but a fragile flicker of hope had pierced its smothering curtain.

As the wagons in their train circled protectively around the Jensens in their grief and began the arduous process of regrouping, Sarah reached for Mary's hand and squeezed it tight. She met her sister's red-rimmed gaze, seeing her own pain and determination reflected back at her.

Together, they would push on, heading ever westward to an unknown future. Sarah knew it would not be easy. She knew the fear would still hunt her. But she also now knew, deep in her bones, that she could survive it. She was stronger than she had ever imagined.

So they pressed onwards, one mile at a time, one day at a time, holding fast to fragile hopes and to each other. Slowly, slowly, the fear's claws retracted, allowing Sarah to breathe more freely, smile more readily, even as the challenges continued. The love of her new family was a balm to her battered spirit.

When at long last their wagon crested the final ridge and the verdant expanse of the Willamette Valley spread out before them in all its lush glory, Sarah felt tears spring anew - but this time, they were tears of joy, relief and tentative promise. Nestled between Ma and Pa, Mary and the other children, with baby Josiah a solid weight in her lap, Sarah allowed herself to dream of the future they would build here together.

A future where she would put down roots, grow and thrive. A future not free of fear, but where that fear no longer ruled her. She had walked through the valley of darkness and come out the other side, tempered and stronger than before.

Gazing out over her new homeland with her family surrounding her, Sarah finally, truly, deeply believed that she was home. She was enough. And she would never be alone again.

In the story of Sarah's journey along the Oregon Trail, we see a powerful example of how a child from a difficult background may experience the complex, overwhelming emotion of fear. Using the lens of the Wagon Method, we can begin to understand Sarah's fear as a natural response to the heavy emotional burdens she carries, the daunting obstacles she faces, and the fragility of the trust and safety she has experienced in her young life.

Sarah's Grounded Experiences, represented by the contents of her wagon, are weighed down by the traumatic losses and upheavals she has endured. The deaths of her parents, the abandonment by her aunt and uncle, and the instability of her early years have left deep emotional scars that manifest as a constant, underlying sense of fear and vulnerability. These experiences have shaped Sarah's core beliefs about herself and the world, leaving her feeling unworthy, unlovable, and constantly bracing for the next inevitable loss or rejection.

As Sarah navigates the challenges and uncertainties of the Oregon Trail, she encounters numerous Outside Obstacles that further exacerbate her fear and anxiety. The harsh, unforgiving terrain, the threat of illness and injury, and the ever-present danger of the unknown all mirror and amplify Sarah's internal sense of vulnerability and helplessness. Each new obstacle or setback reinforces her belief that the world is a scary, unpredictable place where she is powerless to protect herself or those she loves.

At the same time, Sarah's fear reflects the absence of a consistent, reliable Nurturing Network in her life. Having lost her primary attachment figures at a young age and been passed from one unstable living situation to another, Sarah has had little opportunity to develop a secure base of trust and belonging. While the Meyers family has taken her in, they are still relative strangers, and Sarah struggles to fully trust in the security and permanence of their care. This lack of a stable, supportive foundation leaves Sarah feeling alone, unprotected, and solely responsible for her own survival.

For the Advocates seeking to support Sarah on her healing journey, it is essential to approach her fear with empathy, patience, and an understanding of the complex factors that contribute to it. This requires a willingness to attune to Sarah's unique experiences and emotions, to validate her feelings, and to provide a consistent, reliable presence that can help to counteract her fear and build trust over time.

One key aspect of supporting Sarah is to focus on strengthening her Wheels of Well-being, particularly in the areas of Safety and Love & Acceptance. This may involve creating a predictable, nurturing environment where Sarah feels physically and emotionally safe, providing consistent reassurance and validation, and offering her opportunities to express her feelings and needs without judgment. By helping Sarah to feel seen, heard, and valued, her Advocates can begin to create a foundation of trust and security that can counteract her fear and promote healing.

Another important element of supporting Sarah is to help her develop a sense of competence and mastery in navigating the challenges of the trail. Using the Wagon Method, this may involve working with Sarah to identify and develop the knowledge, tools, and resources she needs in her Toolbox. This may include teaching her coping skills for managing difficult emotions, practicing problem-solving strategies for overcoming obstacles, or encouraging her natural creativity, curiosity, and resilience. By empowering Sarah to feel capable and resourceful, her Advocates can help to reduce her fear and build her confidence in her ability to navigate her healing journey successfully.

Finally, supporting Sarah requires a commitment to building and strengthening the Nurturing Network that can provide the safety, support, and encouragement she needs to keep moving forward. This may involve actively seeking out and connecting Sarah with positive peers, mentors, and community resources, advocating for her needs and well-being in multiple contexts, and working collaboratively with other Advocates and professionals to create a seamless web of support around her. By surrounding Sarah with a diverse, reliable network of nurturing relationships, her Advocates can help to create a safe haven where she can find respite, validation, and renewed hope in the face of her fear and challenges.

Ultimately, Sarah's story serves as a powerful reminder that fear is a complex, deeply-rooted emotional response that cannot be quickly or easily resolved. Supporting a child like Sarah who seems afraid requires a holistic, compassionate approach that recognizes the multiple factors contributing to her fear and seeks to address them in an integrated, comprehensive way. By tending to Sarah's Wheels of Well-being, building her Toolbox of coping and resilience skills, and nurturing a strong Network of supportive relationships, Sarah's Advocates can help to create an environment where healing is possible. With time, patience, and unconditional care, Sarah can begin to internalize a sense of safety, capability, and worthiness that allows her to face her fears, overcome obstacles, and write a new story of hope and resilience.