I will begin by telling you that I am a thriving survivor of horrific and multiple traumas resulting in PTSD and the need for medication to manage anxiety disorder. I will also tell you that I made a promise to myself that I would never hold others hostage to my pain. I was suicidal at the time and chose to live, in order to keep that promise. I was still in elementary school. Never underestimate the emotional genius of children. Protect and nurture it; acknowledge it. Don’t fear it, don’t envy it. Yes, there are adults who envy the innate wisdom and liberation of children. Trust me, I was raised by such a person – and soon learned I had to raise myself. Not everyone chooses to be free – they might just not know how to, or simply can’t trust their own innate intuitive genius. I got lucky, or that which is greater than all of us kept a very close watch over me.
I have grown tired of the trauma excuse for disgraceful behavior. However, grown people who use whining and tears for sympathy disgust me less than those who will use them for their own gain. I have seen older adults manipulate younger ones with back rubbing and “Oh, you poor thing. You need to fight back. I’ve got your back.” First, the “victim” should be able to clearly identify what it is they are fighting. We need to find the roots of our pain, the authentic source of our rage – and for that most will need some type of professional help. Lashing out and blaming others for how you feel about yourself won’t heal anyone. I’m not a professional mental health worker. I’m just sharing some of my lived and witnessed experiences.
Co-dependence with others who use anger for their energy and call it “activism” is not healthy. Even more toxic are those who use anger as a way to get attention and attack whoever gets in the way of their access to real or (usually) imagined “power.” If we really want to heal, it takes time, intentional work, professional guidance – from Yoga to Psychiatry to Drama Therapy – individuals respond to modalities that connect to who they are and what interests them in life. Some need somatic work, others auditory, the discipline of meditation, the release of song, dance, painting, simple active listening to nature and the stories of others, writing, and whatever else one can imagine that is creative and non-harmful to self or others. There are plenty of instruments available for digging up roots – it doesn’t always have to be a hate-sharpened trowel.
I have also witnessed those who appropriate and misuse or dilute spiritual practices they have neither the consent, wisdom or indigenous understanding to use. Fake and self-proclaimed “healers,” “shamans,” “life coaches,” “priests,” “priestesses,” and “indigenous elders” abound to take your money and raise their social profiles. Those kind of scoundrels eventually may be unmasked, but not before emptying wallets and creating what I call the “smiley-faced” healed, who mistake the cocktail of smugness, endorphins and manufactured feelings of “peace” for the real thing. Remember the high you could get from incense and soothing music at the “New Age” shops as you rubbed crystals and purchased angels? It didn’t last but you had a pleasant afternoon. Been there, done that.
When seeking help, we must seek with discernment, research and depth. There is no quick fix to trauma – it takes time and love of oneself in order to feel and live in ways that do good for all. Those who love us don’t just kiss the boo-boos. They respectfully challenge, question, and love us in truth, even if there is a risk of losing us. They don’t put us on pedestals and they don’t underestimate us – they are present, loyal and true. They are not the doormats of our pain but invite us to cross thresholds of healing. True friends don’t want us to lose ourselves but to find out who we truly are and live in that truth. Self-care and self-love need not be self-centered or an excuse to avoid whatever darkness we must face to dig up the roots of our suffering and plant healthier seeds of new growth. The journey to healing from trauma can be as simple or complex as it needs to be and by how we choose to approach it.
Recently I was deeply touched by a young woman in Longmeadow who waited for me to step out of my car before she stepped into hers. Such a simple act of graciousness meant so much to me. When I thanked her and said, “I don’t take any act of kindness for granted. There seems to be so much mean spiritedness in the world. Even from those we once called friends.” I thought maybe that was an unnecessary and possibly annoying epistle, but her response began a long and intimate conversation between us. “Oh, my God, tell me about it! I’m so glad to hear you say that. I thought it was just me!” I responded, “Have you been seeing an escalation in mean behavior where you least expected it?” And off she went – we talked for about twenty minutes about the shocking and out-of-the-blue nasty behavior we’d been experiencing, and not just from drivers with road rage. Family, friends, colleagues, co-workers. We both talked about small acts of kindness as if they were miracles and how much they mean to us. I asked her if people in her life are using emoji’s more than words to express feelings. “Yes!!” We were screeching with delight at finding each other. Words that kept flying from our burdens of disbelief: betrayal; envy; narcissism; greed; gaslighting; manipulation; shameless lying; stupidity…the escalation of it all, both in our lives and in the world.
It is so easy to convince yourself that you’re imagining it or being too judgmental. We talked about judgment and discernment. Discernment won. There has been a normalization of viciousness and at the same time, more and more wonderful people coming into our lives.
We embraced and laughed with joy of the moment. We left each other grateful for all that is good in our lives – especially loyal friends and good people who value and practice plain, simple, human decency and empathy. She celebrates Thanksgiving and I wished her a good one – biting my tongue about colonization and the genocide of Indigenous nations. I figured that with an open heart like hers, she’d learn it on her own. Besides, I’m only an expert on one thing – my lived experience. We all live life one lesson at a time. And then the time for choosing arrives. ■