Homicide Loss Is Often Held in the Body First
After a homicide, many survivors are encouraged to “talk about it.”
Friends, family, and even professionals often assume that telling the story is the path to healing. Once upon a time I thought so, too. It was how psychologists were trained.
But many homicide survivors discover something confusing and disheartening:
Talking makes things worse if initiated too soon. So, how do you know if it’s premature?
Your chest tightens.
Your breathing changes.
Your thoughts scatter or go blank.
And that’s not all…
You may develop a headache, feel your jaw tightening or develop shoulder or stomach pain.
You may leave therapy exhausted, flooded, or ashamed — wondering why it didn’t help, and scared you may be beyond hope.
This reaction is not a failure.
It is often a sign that your body is doing exactly what it was designed to do. What is that? Read on.
Trauma is not stored like ordinary memory
Homicide is not just a loss.
It is a jarring shock to the nervous system.
When something overwhelming and violent happens, the brain cannot store it as a clear, organized narrative. Its resources are busy elsewhere. Instead, the experience is often held in confusing fragments:
- body sensations
- emotional surges
- reflexes
- images or flashes
- a constant sense of danger
It is very much like dropping a box of photographs. Some pictures face up. Others are upside down or go missing. A few may remain in your hand. There’s no album. So there is no order. No captions.
Trauma doesn’t arrive into the brain as a logical story – it arrives like a careless and terrible spill.
This is why homicide survivors may feel on edge long after the danger has passed, or why their bodies react strongly even when they are not consciously thinking about what happened. It also explains why they are often at a loss for words to explain what happened or what they are experiencing. That requires organization, coherence and logic.
Trauma is often stored as “states” or frames, not logical, coherent memories. When trauma happens, the brain is flooded with stress hormones. It’s like trying to write neatly in wet cement. The marks go in, but they don’t hold their shape. It’s just too soon.
The body remembers before the mind understands.
What it really means to be “witnessed”
When people say trauma needs to be “witnessed” before it can be released and encorporated, they often mean talking about it.
But witnessing does not require telling the story. Being witnessed can take other forms, such as:
- having someone stay present and quiet while you are upset
- being believed without being questioned
- being allowed to express grief spasms, or to sink into speechlessness
- noticing what your body feels without pressure to explain or fix it
Again, most homicide survivors find that the first and most important witnessing happens without words.
Your nervous system needs to learn that it is safe enough to be here — in the present — before it can safely revisit the past.
Why talking therapy can come too soon
Talking therapy is not wrong.
But timing matters.
When a survivor is asked to describe a traumatic loss before their body feels safe, the brain’s survival system can take over. When that happens:
- clear thinking shuts down
- emotions flood or disappear
- dissociation may occur
- sessions may feel destabilizing rather than helpful
This can leave survivors believing they are “resistant,” “avoidant,” or “not doing therapy right.” (It also sheds light on a reason that eyewitness testimony to violence is so fragmented and unreliable.)
In reality, their nervous system may simply not be ready for speech.
For homicide survivors — whose loss involves violence, injustice, and unanswered questions — this is especially common.
Working with the body first does not erase meaning
Starting with the body does not mean avoiding the story forever.
It means creating the conditions where the story can eventually be told without re-injury.
When the body begins to feel safer:
- emotions become more manageable
- memories come in smaller pieces
- language returns naturally
- meaning can be explored instead of forced
- sleep comes more regularly
The body does not replace the story.
It prepares the ground for it.
What does “working with the body” actually look like?
When people hear phrases like somatic therapy or body work, they sometimes imagine something intense, strange, or physically demanding.
In reality, for many homicide survivors, body-based work is quiet, simple, and respectful of limits.
Before talking therapy can unfold safely, somatic work often focuses on just a few basic goals:
- helping the body feel a little safer
- reducing constant alarm
- increasing the ability to stay present
What follows are some common ways that can look.
Slowing the nervous system — not reliving the trauma
Somatic approaches do not require re-telling the homicide or revisiting details.
Instead, a therapist might help you:
>> notice your breathing without changing it
>> feel your feet on the floor or your back against a chair
>> name physical sensations (tight, heavy, warm, numb) without explaining why
>> learn practical ways to settle when your body becomes overwhelmed
This is about stabilization, not exposure, not insight, not “closure.”
Paying attention to the body’s signals
Many homicide survivors learned to ignore their bodies just to survive.
Somatic work gently reverses that by helping you:
- recognize early signs of overwhelm
- pause before panic or shutdown takes over
- learn when to stop rather than push through
You are not asked to “go deeper.”
You are encouraged to stay within what feels tolerable.
Using movement, grounding, or rhythm
Depending on the person, body-based work may include:
- gentle stretching or posture awareness
- slow, deliberate movements
- walking while talking instead of sitting face-to-face
- rhythmic activities that calm the nervous system
Nothing is forced.
Nothing is done to you.
The goal is not emotional release — it is regulation.
Learning that feelings can rise and fall
For many survivors, emotions feel either overwhelming or completely shut down.
Somatic work helps the body learn something crucial:
I can feel something — and survive it.
As the body experiences safety in small doses:
- sensations pass instead of escalating
- emotions move instead of freezing
- words eventually become easier to access
This is often when cognitive or talking therapy begins to feel possible rather than dangerous.
Talking still matters — just later
Body-based work does not replace meaning-making.
It creates the conditions for it.
Once the nervous system is more stable:
- memories arrive in smaller pieces
- thinking becomes clearer
- storytelling becomes less re-traumatizing
- insight and reflection can unfold naturally
At that point, talking therapy is no longer asking the body to do something it cannot yet do.
If talking therapy hasn’t helped, say so
Many homicide survivors quietly blame themselves when therapy fails to restore sleep or peace or hope.
Instead, it may be important — and appropriate — to bring this up directly with your therapist.
You might say:
- “Talking about it feels overwhelming.”
- “I leave sessions feeling worse, not better.”
- “My body reacts before I can find words.”
A trauma-informed therapist should welcome this information. It helps them adjust the approach so therapy supports healing rather than pushing past your limits.
If a therapist cannot hear this, that is important information too.
Healing after homicide is not a race
There is no correct pace.
No required timeline.
No single path that works for everyone.
For many homicide survivors, healing begins not with telling the story — but with being allowed to exist safely in the present.
Words come later.
Meaning comes later.
And when they come, they come from a place of strength rather than survival.
A final reassurance
If this sounds slower than you expected, that is intentional.
Homicide trauma is not something to “push through.”
It is something to approach with care.
If your body has been saying not yet, listening to it may be the most healing step you can take.
Questions for reflection
- When have you known, in your body, that talking was too much or too soon?
- What has helped you feel even slightly calmer or safer?
- Who has been able to sit with you without needing explanations?
Your body has been carrying something heavy.
Listening to it is not avoidance — it is wisdom.
