‘How did you deal with your trauma?’

I had the luck of being able to come to Sweden as early as the summer of 1945. It was a difficult time. I was tormented by having lost my entire family except for my sister. I was tortured by thoughts of how my parents had been murdered while I had survived. How many could still be alive out of the 56 people in my extended family?

The word ‘trauma’ was barely known, and no one had heard of ‘trauma processing’. The notion that a person can suffer from lasting trauma was only brought to attention when more and more survivors complained of health problems. Already during the First World War, some soldiers suffered as a result of what they had been subjected to, but for a long time this suffering was not accepted as a mental disorder. It was called ‘shell shock’, and the soldiers were sent back to the front. When the symptoms returned, they were accused of being malingerers.

When more and more survivors went to see the doctor, and the latter could not find any physical explanation for their symptoms, the notion that the problems could be of a mental nature, a result of their wartime experiences, began to take root. It took a number of years, but slowly the realisation came that only processing can help those who suffer. A number of trauma centres were set up, and the refugees who came later were given the opportunity to process their experiences.

I was lucky. I had a good constitution, was athletic, fairly strong, and had a stubborn will. Apparently, I also had good genes. In addition to these qualities, during my early childhood, which can nurture or deprive an individual of safety, trust, and confidence, I was lucky to have had devoted and perceptive parents, providing me with a strong start to my life’s journey. I had a loving mother and a father who was present. The first three months leave their mark on the individual, according to psychologists. That is when the child sees its own reflection in its mother’s eyes, and finds affirmation of being welcome in the world. This security was what helped me after the war, on the path back to life.

Moreover, I had instinctively begun to process my experiences by writing a diary. I had been keeping a diary ever since my early teens, and now I did so again. It became a kind of self-analysis. Marianne, a Swedish girl my age who became my friend, supported me; she meant a great deal to me. She became like an older sister. She taught me to make a ‘balance sheet’, to note down everything that was good on one side of a paper, and everything I had lost on the opposite. It did not help then, but with time it became useful.

At the same time, I wanted to be strong in front of Livi. While Marianne became like an older sister, I felt that I had to support my younger sister. It was a painful time, and the pain did not ease until I started working, and even then only some of the time. Work required all my concentration during the day, but in the evenings, the questions that tormented me would resurface. What was the purpose of it all, why had I survived? I had a hard time finding the answer, but knew there must be a reason that I was still alive. And then one day, it revealed itself to me.