Writing about dissociation is hard for me. In fact, it might very well be the epitome of bittersweet. To know, to understand the whys and wherefores of yourself is an absolute blessing. To have an answer. To see something objectively and set outside of yourself. To know you are not crazy and alone. All of these are sweet. But the bitter, the acrid lingering taste that you long to have gone yet accompanies the sweet is this slowly unfolding .... horror ... at just how much of your life for which you have not been present.
In a way, the day I started reading the book is the day I started living.
Life since then is still a struggle and still filled with many a times of dissociation, but it is a life for which I am, at least sometimes, present. I realize I am fleeing and try to stop. I fail and I fall into discouragement and despair. I fail and try to at least not punish myself. I sometimes succeed. I sometimes remain.
But remaining present is not an easy thing for a person who has also not learned to recognize or process emotions. I will say I feel this or that, but the truth is I am most often completely unable to discern what it is that I am feeling. So, I have fall back feelings to which I cling: fear and shame and frustration.
When children are raised in a healthy environment, their emotions are respected. When they are sad, angry, or afraid, their parents or caretakers acknowledge their feelings, make room for safe expression, and offer comfort. Children raised in an emotionally supportive home are not talked out of their feelings or punished for them. Because of this, they learn that feelings are not dangerous. And their capacity to tolerate difficult feelings increases naturally as they grow up.
Abused children rarely have this kind of support. They cannot afford to feel the full extent of their terror, pain, shame, or rage; the agony would be devastating. They would not be able to do arithmetic with other second graders, for example, if they acknowledged the depth of their sorrow and desolation.
Because their innocent love and trust are betrayed, abused children learn that they cannot rely on their feelings. And the feelings they do express may be disregarded or mocked.
If the adults around them are out of control, they get the message that feelings lead to violence. Anger means beatings or furniture hurled across the room. (The Courage to Heal, Bass & Davis, pp. 6)
At my last job, there was a senior employee whose anger ruled the majority of her interaction. The employee turnover in her department was approximately 300% the time I worked at that job. No one wanted to be the one who had to work with her, so often my boss sent me in her place. I would grow ill each time I had to face her.
Her anger was not confined to subordinates either. Toward the end of my tenure, another senior employee came on board who would stand toe-to-toe with her. The new employee's office was near mine, so I could hear the angry exchanges between the two. One day, the row between them was so loud and so filled with anger that I found myself cowering beneath my desk without realizing what I was doing. I was simply terrified by what I was hearing.
Anger frightens me.
I tense up.
I wait to be hurt.
I withdraw.
It is the one emotion I always recognize in others. It is the one emotion that you cannot hide from me. And it is an emotion that always sparks such a primal, instinctive, self-protective response in me.
I do not know how to handle anger in others. I rarely am actually angry myself, for all anger frightens me. I do grow frustrated and have been accused of being angry in that moment. However, the truth is that I am upset because of the situation, of the inability to change or achieve something ... usually communication. In counseling, I was told that part of healing would be learning that it is okay to be angry about what was done to me. A part of me cannot fathom doing so.
Abused children often learn to block out their pain, because it is too devastating or because they do not want to give the abuser the satisfaction of seeing them cry. But since it is not possible to block out emotions selectively, they may simply stop feeling.
On the other hand, they may feel overwhelmed with feelings, flooded with fear, grief, shame, and rage. All too often, they suffer this distress alone, without a safe way to express their emotions and without consolation.
Often survivors find it difficult to:
- Recognize their feelings
- Differentiate between emotions
- Express feelings
- Calm down when they get upset
Many survivors feel:
- Disconnected, isolated, and alone.
- A pervasive sense of shame
- Just a few feelings, rather than a full range of emotions
- Out of control with their rage or other feelings
- Confused
- Dead inside
Many survivors:
- Are prone to depression or despair
- Struggle with anxiety or have panic attacks
- Alternate between overwhelming anxiety, fear, or rage and being numb and shut down
- Feel agitated and on alert
- Have frequent nightmares
- Are afraid of their emotions
- Worry about going crazy
- Rarely feel pleasure, relaxation, or joy (pp. 6-7)
Often counseling offices have them on the wall. I used to stare at one each time I saw it, struggling to imagine what it would be like to know, to really know and understand how you are feeling. And to feel without fear or guilt or shame. So, I now have an emotions chart that I carry around with me. I have many copies, in fact. When emotions wash over me, I try to study it and figure out what best fits what I am feeling. I remain rather clueless in this matter, but I make the effort because I hope.
A friend who is a counselor was talking with me about this, about my past, and noted that I lack emotional intelligence, as well as the difficulty allowing myself to feel and to identify what I am feeling. By this she meant that I am not really able to identify emotions in others and the cues they give. This can make social interaction difficult. And this also means that while I struggle to trust others, I also struggle to know who is safe to trust. That is part of how end up trusting the wrong person.
Again.
And again.
And again.
This, too, is common with children who are sexually abused, but revictimization is a topic I hope to address at a later point. But I would note, now, that this is not about a flaw in the sexual abuse survivor or something that is voluntary. It actually has more to do with how predators work and the effects of sexual abuse, the wrong lessons ingrained as a child.
The lies of the predator, the lies of sexual abuse, are insidiously specious.
The point about emotions, about feelings, is that they are intricately connected and confused by sexual abuse. Survivors often struggle with both fleeing from them and facing them without truly understanding why. Therefore it is important for them to have supportive folk about them who understand that feelings can be frightening and confusing, who allow them to have and express feelings, and who remind them that to feel and to struggle with feelings is okay.
I am Yours, Lord. Save me!
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