after-thought

Hold fast to dreams
For if dreams die
Life is a broken-winged bird
That cannot fly.
Hold fast to dreams
For when dreams go
Life is a barren field
Frozen with snow. 

-Langston Hughes 

I reread your last post just as I was finishing mine and preparing to leave this site, and I had an image of the mourning dove my grandson and I found in the garden about three years ago. I saw it fluttering, trying desperately to get away from me, not knowing I had loving intentions.  And the poem above popped into my head.  It has long been a favorite.

You said:
as people are exposed to stress and trauma (duration, frequency, intensity, etc.) they go into adrenal fatigue where they cannot mount a proper fight or flight.

I think that perhaps we go into adrenal fatigue, where we can not mount a proper fight or flight, but we try. We struggle, we keep on trying...and we become the broken-winged bird.  We live our lives as a broken-winged bird.  We can not fly as we are designed to do. Instead we rally and flutter and try to avoid any kind of face-off.

Just a thought...

Clare