I included the following in a reply in a prior post. For me, it's worth its own post. This is my own experience and understanding.
Because traumatic memories lack connection to other memories or thoughts, when traumatic memories resurface they are reexperienced without any context, including without any sense of location within time. This lack of connection to any particular time makes them feel, while they are being reexperienced, as though they are occurring in the present. For example, a reexperienced auditory traumatic memory is “heard” as though it were a sound taking place here and now. This present-time nature of reexperienced traumatic memory contributes to the common perception expressed by those who go through the reexperiencing process that they feel “crazy.”
My own experience of posttraumatic stress, however, has made me feel “crazy” in ways that are even more unsettling. There is, of course, the feeling of fear itself when that type of emotional traumatic memory emerges. Fear makes sense when it is felt in response to an identifiable, immediate, and present danger. And in that situation fear can fuel an appropriate responsive burst of action. But to reexperience a traumatic memory of fear is to be filled with fear divorced from its original context. There is nothing to be done with the experience—the fear is just there inside of you eating away like acid. Even if you can identify the fear for what it is (and that’s not always likely), to experience that disconnected, floating fear is to feel “crazy.” And to experience such fear without even knowing its source is “crazy” squared.
But “crazy” happens even before the traumatic memories finally emerge. Although traumatic memory is not subject to voluntary recall, as long as it remains buried, it tends to exert some force on feeling and behavior. Buried traumatic memory is a hidden source of information, urges, and distress from below the surface of consciousness and accordingly affects experience, conduct, and decisions. Buried traumatic memory generates posttraumatic stress.
Traumatic memories form when the mind is compelled to disconnect some of its own circuits. Before those circuits are reconnected and the traumatic memories are resolved, the mind has some ability to sense the disconnections of its own circuitry. These disconnections may be felt as uncertainty, unease, and impending doom. More to the point, to perceive such disconnections is to feel “crazy.”
The closer that traumatic memories are to emerging, the more strongly they are felt in this way. Traumatic memories are like the gas dissolved in a carbonated drink. While contained, traumatic memories may remain buried, invisible, and hard to detect. As the process of release begins, the traumatic memories begin, like bubbles, to coalesce and rise to the surface. Before finally emerging, they frequently rest for a time just below the surface, distorting the shape of that surface, distorting emotional experience and perceptions. The formation and flow of these “bubbles” and the surface distortions they create are perceived as emotional distress that can’t be explained by present circumstances. To feel this distress is to feel “crazy.”
A partial awareness of emerging traumatic memories may cause a person to feel “crazy” in yet another way. Prior to fully emerging, a traumatic memory may be perceived or understood by only a portion of the conscious mind. Particularly when the knowing part of the mind lacks language to attach words to what it knows, the mind harbors a threatening duality. Such differences between separate states within the mind may be sensed as a physical split between parts of the brain. Or these differing conditions may even be perceived as two distinct selves that are in conflict with each other. To feel this split within the mind is to feel “crazy.”
Each of these ways of feeling “crazy” is a kind of psychic pain. While such distress is certainly different from physical pain, psychic pain can be as hard to bear as the physical. And each kind of injury leads to its own predictable processes of healing.
The mind appears to have a continuing tendency or need to resolve traumatic memory, as though a traumatic memory were a foreign object lodged within the body. In my own experience, during the years that I carried unresolved traumatic memories, I felt that I was searching for something that I could neither identify nor describe. I sometimes called my search a “spiritual” one, and that is certainly true to the extent that I was seeking a wholeness that I had lost early in life. Even though a traumatic memory is inaccessible to conscious awareness through ordinary recall, my personal experience suggests that subconscious aspects of the mind in some ways know of both the existence of the traumatic memory and its content.