Echoes of Trauma

Do We Haunt Ourselves

Recently, I had a conversation with someone in the inspirational and mental health space about trauma, healing, and how unresolved pain can shape our lives. It got me thinking about the overlap between mental health, paranormal investigations, hauntings, and the spirits we encounter through Echoes of the South. Many times, both the living and the dead seem to carry unresolved experiences that keep them stuck, repeating emotional patterns or lingering in places where something meaningful or traumatic once happened.

Prefer to listen? This Field Notes entry is available as an audio recording below.

That conversation stayed with me. In mental health work, we often talk about how avoiding trauma does not make it disappear. It just shows up in new ways. New relationships. New fears. New patterns that feel strangely familiar. And honestly, when we investigate hauntings and alleged paranormal activity, we sometimes see something very similar.

Many spirits we encounter do not feel aggressive or frightening. They feel stuck. Anchored to grief, loss, betrayal, shame, or unfinished emotional business. It raises a question I cannot quite shake. If we avoid dealing with our trauma while we are alive, could we be carrying that same weight with us even after we pass? And could some hauntings actually be echoes of unresolved emotional pain rather than something sinister?

One location that comes to mind immediately is the 1842 Inn here in Macon. During one investigation, there appeared to be a woman whose energy felt deeply tied to grief and emotional hardship. Morrighan Lynne, my fellow investigator and psychic empath, picked up on her very strongly, though I sensed her presence as well. The overwhelming feeling was sadness. Not anger. Not fear. Just a heaviness that suggested a life where she may not have felt seen, supported, or safe to express what she was carrying.

And that has been a recurring theme in paranormal investigations. Spirits often do not ask us directly for help moving on. More often, they seem to want acknowledgment. To be recognized. To be heard. Sometimes simply being witnessed appears to shift something. Whether that helps them release what they are holding onto is something we continue to explore through Echoes of the South investigations.

Another experience that connects strongly to this idea happened during an investigation at the Hay House in Macon, Georgia. I had the sense there was a female spirit present who seemed to be concealing a mental health struggle. It felt guarded. Protective. Almost like someone maintaining appearances.

I began speaking openly about mental health and vulnerability, about how sharing our stories can bring relief and connection. Almost immediately, I saw what appeared to be a dark orb rush toward my left eye before darting toward Morrighan. She became dizzy at the same moment and later said she perceived the spirit running forward, saying, Stop talking. Do not say that. Don’t talk about it.

That reaction struck me deeply. It mirrored the stigma we still see today around mental health, even in 2026, though we have come a long way. And when you consider that many of the spirits we encounter lived in the 1800s or early 1900s, particularly in prominent Southern families, emotional struggles were rarely discussed openly. Mental health was often hidden, denied, or misunderstood.

So imagine strangers coming into your home generations later, asking questions about your pain. About your secrets. About things you were never allowed to speak aloud. That vulnerability can feel just as intense for them as it does for the living.

When we investigate, our intention is always compassion. We are not there to provoke. We are there to understand, to listen, and if possible, to help create peace. Sometimes that means earning trust slowly. Morrighan, especially, being able to hear spirits more clearly, often becomes the focal point for that interaction. Some spirits remain guarded for a long time. Others step forward because they are simply tired of holding the same emotional weight.

And that brings me back to the original question.

If we do not process our trauma, grief, or emotional wounds while we are alive, are we risking carrying that unresolved energy forward? Are some hauntings less about horror and more about healing that never happened?

My work as a mental health advocate through my blog State of Slay™ and my work investigating paranormal activity may seem like two separate worlds. But increasingly, I see them as deeply connected. Both are about acknowledgment. Both are about healing. Both are about helping individuals feel less alone, whether they are living or not.

Because at the core of it, everyone wants to be seen. Everyone wants to be heard. And sometimes, that simple act of recognition may be the first step toward peace.

For the living. And maybe for the dead too.

To learn more about State of Slay™ go to: stateofslay.com

To learn more about Morrighan Lynne go to: morrighanlynne.com