Negative Emotions: An Introdution

  This post is the introduction to our section on negative emotions. This section will be largely for the survivors themselves. It will be a means to define and discuss the various negative emotions that a survivor may experience daily and any ways we can work past them.

    Negative emotions are any emotions that do not feel good. They are the 'bad' feelings or painful parts of life. This section is dedicated to those emotions, particularly the ones that relate to surviving abuse.

  The negative emotions we will cover are as follows:

• Shame and Guilt
• Anger and Rage
• Powerlessness
• Anxiety
• Loneliness
• Low Self-esteem/ Self-worth

 [Self-harm, suicidal tendencies, and disassociation will all be covered in more detail in future posts. If any of these are your current concern, please message us and we will get you the information you need.]

  It is not uncommon for these emotions to manifest themselves at inopportune moments and for them to be described as 'inner voices'. The majority of people referring to this do not mean actual voices that some people suffering from schizophrenia experience, but rather a persistent thought or train of thought. These thoughts may be an unwanted interruption to life or something one dwells on, either way, its as if one's conscience decided to go haywire.

  These 'inner voices' may continually remind a survivor of their negative feelings or regrets regarding their abuse. It could be as though their own mind were taunting them. This is often were logic and emotion disagree, leading to conflicted feelings and memories.

  This section will explore those emotions and give light to those voices.

"It Could Be Worse." It is the moment you say those words.

  This post is specifically for listeners and loved ones. It is the flip side of "Are You Okay?"

   There are many times in life that we find ourselves on the receiving end of a difficult disclosure. It could be finding out about someone passing away, a tragic accident, or any number of other situations. It can be very hard to find the right words at those times. We may wish to offer comfort or provide perspective and find ourselves relying on an old cliche. This post is about why those cliches are damaging.

   Let us all begin by acknowledging that each one of us is in a physically, emotionally, financially, or mentally better place than another person on this planet. We are also worse than another person on this planet. We are neither in the best nor worst position. This state of being will be the case from the moment you are born until the moment you die. It is simply a fact of life. Life is not fair and we all must get past that.

   That being said, it is important that we all try to have some sense of perspective. This can be very difficult for many people for a variety of reasons. Sometimes we want to remind someone to count their blessings rather than their sorrows. An understandable sentiment but one which has given us a number of unfortunate phrases.

  These phrases are intended to express that one person believes the other needs some perspective. This might be true but many times the uses of these phrases does not convey that concept. It rather says to the survivor that their experience was not "tragic" enough to warrant the very complex and difficult after effects. These effects range from mild depression to suicidal thoughts. They can include violent impulses, nightmares, disturbing flashbacks, and even be expressed as a number of mental disorders. Everyone has their own tolerance for trauma; thus everyone will get a slightly different mix of effects. These effects can be highly unpleasant.

 The following phrases have each been suggested by a collaborator based on their person experiences. These are things that someone told one or more of us as we attempted to share our stories and experience. We can each attest to how hurtful they were and how they made us feel very alone at times. It is very isolating to experience unpleasant after effects that no one wants to help you weather.

  The phrases are as follows:

• It could be worse.
• At least you're still alive...
• That happened a long time ago, you should be over it.
• Worse things happen to people everyday.
• If it wasn't you, it would have been someone else.
• [Abuser] would never do that.
• It couldn't have been that bad, he/she didn't beat you.
• You must have done something to ask for it.
• Why didn't you just ______ ? 

 These phrases cover a variety of reactions. Some are intended to provide perspective, some are denial, some are misunderstand and some are just attacks. Each of them creates an issue for the survivor who hears them. They can suggest the abuse was less severe than it was, show a complete lack of understanding, come off as callous, basically call the survivor a liar, or just bring up bad memories. It can even feel like a push for more details very quickly, something that more survivors aren't likely to do. It makes a difficult scary situation into a terrifying game of wanting to be believed vs. sharing too quickly.
 
   Many times, survivors do wish that things either hadn't happened or had been the obvious sort of 'bad' that everyone else can recognize. There are many forms of abuse that leave no physical marks and are socially considered to be 'less' damaging. They are not less anything. Furthermore, a survivor may have very conflicted feelings about their abuse. They may be second guessing a lot of their own actions and memories to begin with. On the whole, survivors don't want worse things to happen to other people and they are not trying to take away from the severity of other tragedies. It should be enough that our own trauma has a level of severity that should be taken seriously without acting as if we should be grateful it wasn't worse. Honestly, sometimes worse seems easier, more clear cut to explain and easier to find support for.

  Something to consider for those who read this as a loved one, care taker, or authority figure.

 Finally, if you find yourself thinking of saying something along the lines of " It could be worse." Consider instead saying, " I know this is really difficult for you, but can we take a moment to focus on some of the positive things in your life, like _________." This helps to redirect the survivor to more positive thoughts without belittling their feelings or experience. The other responses show that the listener either doesn't understand the severity of abuse in general or is not the best person to confide in the begin with.


                  **********************************************************
   This last little section is to address the responses that male survivor sometimes get when they reveal that their abuser was female.

• I wish that'd happened to me.
• That's awesome!
• How did you get with an older chick?
• I love [ explicit sexual act ].

  First off, a woman is capable of sexually assaulting or raping a male. Second, arousal is a physical response that many of us have no real control over, consider 'morning wood' or 'workout orgasms'. This automatic physical reaction is not a yes for women, nor for men.

  That being said, our society places a lot of importance on men being macho. It is socially acceptable and even desirable for a man to be with many sexual partners; particularly if they are skilled in some way. A portion of our population thinks that anytime a male is sexual interacting with a female, that it must be pleasurable and wanted by the male. Also, that a man could or would never actually be overpowered or violated by a woman. That is not the case and expressing that as a listener you wish you were in a position to be sexually assaulted or raped- you have shown a complete lack of sensitivity and awareness of serious social issues. Basically, anything that sounds like "I wish it had happened to me," is going to show you have no idea how devastating it is to have no control over your situation or body. It shows you have never even considered that you could be forcibly held down or drugged.

  My only suggestion for this one is, DO NOT SAY IT! I don't care what you are thinking- keep your mouth shut. You are going to do way more harm than good with this one. I suggest some serious research on your part to become better informed. Do not ever tell a survivor that you wish you had experience their abuse. Its beyond not acceptable.


 

How to Communicate: Sharing

  Sharing your story as a survivor can be a most conflicting experience. It feels like an impossible task, being both terrifying and compelling. This choice to share is a deeply personal one, and the way it unfolds can have a huge impact.

 There are a lot of factors to consider when sharing your story. The most important one of all is how you feel about sharing. Sharing will not necessarily be this huge painful event, nor will it necessarily be a huge relief. Rather, it will be somewhere on the spectrum between the two. Your story, when told aloud, will become more real than you have ever imagined in some ways, but it will also lose some of its emotional hold over you.

   The best way to get a read on how you feel about sharing is to pick a quiet place, go there alone, and act it out. Imagine the person you would want to tell is there with you, and actually say the words out loud so you can hear them. Start with something simple such as, "I was abused." The shorter and simpler your opening statement, the easier it will be to just 'jump into' it. Play out the whole conversation in your head and as many reactions as you can imagine. Talk every one of them out. Consider if any of those scenarios helped you to feel better in a way, or if they hurt more than you can tolerate. Sharing may be easiest when you reach a point of "I cant stand the silence/lying anymore," or " I need to tell someone." These feelings will give you more drive to share your story.

  The second most important factor in sharing about your abuse, is deciding who to share your story with. Ideally, the best person to share with is someone who will listen quietly, ask only intelligent and necessary questions, be empathetic, and can keep appropriate confidence. This may not be a family member or close friend.

       Individuals who have done some soul searching and decided that legal action will be necessary (particularly if your abuser has access to other potential victims) will need to pick an authority figure who can be trusted to listen and take appropriate action. This can be any number of persons depending on your situation. It might be a parent, a teacher, a member of clergy, a police officer, a social worker or a doctor. Many of the people in these roles are legally obligated to report suspicion of abuse. Women in particular may find their best opportunity is in their doctor's office, and many medical professionals are given training for such circumstances. I strongly recommend using our link here to familiarize yourself with what will happen after you disclose your abuse, no matter who you choose to disclose it to.

  Some survivors may find themselves in situations where legal action is not their chosen course, or could jeopardize their safety. These individuals may choose to share their story with a friend, a family member, a therapist (some of which may be legally required to report abuse), or other survivors. It is very important to take time to honestly consider the pros and cons of the person you choose to confide in and why. You are looking for someone who can keep confidence, have an open mind, comfortably handle your story and empathize with you. Avoid persons who habitually engage in unhealthy behaviors (such as name calling or shaming you), or who put you in awkward positions. Anyone who is prone to gossip may also be a bad choice. Avoid people who might behave violently toward you. Ultimately, you will make this decision, but think about how you would feel if they tell other people, proceed to shame you, or call you names. These are all very hurtful actions that can negatively impact you and the whole sharing experience.

   Once you have decided if you are ready to share and who you want to share with, you need to decide how you want to share. This will vary greatly depending on whether you are taking legal action or not. Those of you seeking legal action in the U.S.A., please use this link to guide you in how to proceed. Those of you seeking legal action in the U.K. can find more information here.

   There are many ways to share your story with another person. Each has its pros and cons, so choose the one that will work best for you. I advocate face to face conversations if you can handle them. It allows you to connect with another person and then allows them to provide tangible comfort if needed. Writing a letter or email can be a less personal way to share your story, as it will offer a bit of a buffer if you need to work on your confession in bits and pieces. You can even combine the two and write a letter, then read it outloud. Some people may find that creating something artistically helps them present their truth to others, since it begins the conversation in a way. This can be a painting, a sculpture, a song, or a poem, among many other things.

   Once you decide to share your story you will follow many of the steps mentioned in 'How to Communicate; Asking About Abuse'. Pick a safe and somewhat quiet place to talk. Make sure that both you and the person you plan to tell are in a calm emotional state and receptive to what may become an emotionally intense conversation. Try to remain calm throughout, and stop if you need to. Be prepared for the listener to need time to digest what you say. Consider that they may respond in a number of ways, some negative and some positive.

  The conversation of abuse should be started in a simple way, much like you practiced alone. A short statement of fact. Allow your listener to absorb that information and then consider asking them if you may tell them the rest of your story. Keep in mind that others may have a similar past or be unwilling to listen. Give your listener a chance to make that decision on their own. Someone who chooses to engage you in this way is more likely to provide you with positive support.

  The conversation from that point could unfold in a number of different ways. You may find that you can continue very calmly, you may become very emotional being angry or sad, or you may choke up. Try not to rush yourself and move at the pace that is best for you. It is a complicated process and you may find yourself admitting some darker inner feelings such as worthlessness or feeling used. [These feelings will be further discussed in their own posts shortly.]

     Personally, I felt very guilty. I openly admitted to feeling like a bad person, as if I had asked for the abuse. I truly thought I deserved in it in some way. That made it very difficult to express. It wasn't as if I had any feeling of self worth and I didn't feel I deserved worth. These things are not true, and over time I came to have a better understanding of why I felt that way and how to get past those issues, but when I first told someone; It was overwhelming.

   It is perfectly okay to stop sharing because it hurts too much. The conversation may become an ongoing one, where you share as you can. This process is about you and about coming to terms with your own story. It is complicated to say the least but it is very much worth it. Try to remain as calm as possible and don't be overly graphic to begin with. Take deep breaths and stick to the facts as much as you can. Detail what happened and how you felt about it, try not to make assumptions about your abuser's motives.

   Sharing is an incredibly personal process. It is very difficult to give hard and fast rules on how to share. The steps mention in this post are meant as guidelines to help you begin your conversation. In the end, this conversation will be unlike any you have ever had and yet like so many others.


Anyone who has shared is invited to add suggestions in the comments section of this post.

"Are you okay?" : The loaded question

  This post is somewhat related to the communication series we are currently working on. Nonetheless, it is directly related to How to Communicate: Asking about Abuse . The most frequently asked question that people use when asking about someone's emotional state is "Are you okay?"

  "Are You Okay?" is a loaded question despite it seeming like a binary one. Obviously, most people expect a yes or no answer. The problem is that okay has about four definitions, and generically means that one is neither very good, nor very bad.

   A survivor has an emotional range extending between soul crushing agony to I-can't-breath to almost normal to content to happy. Keeping that in mind, does okay mean that I won't burst out crying right now even though I kind of want to die? Does it mean that I can probably keep pretending to smile for the rest of my work shift? Does it mean that I don't feel like self harming or outright suicidal right now? Those can all be middle ground emotions for a survivor, but that probably isn't the 'okay' the one asking is looking for.

  The person asking that question probably wants to know if the person they are talking to has a grip on their emotions, and will be able to say they are happy at some point in the near future. No. And many times, the answer will be "No." if you are a survivor. That is not to say that every survivor is living in a miserable state of depression, but rather that like everyone else, we cycle through a lot of emotions every day. There are times when we reach a trigger - perhaps the anniversary of something traumatic, and our emotional state becomes compromised. [ A section dedicated to triggers will be posted in the future. It is strongly recommended that Loved Ones read it. ]

  The best example that I have of what "okay" means some days, is actually a post from my personal blog, one I share with a select few. Today, I am going to share that with you, my readers. The day I wrote this next paragraph was a day that I went to work and was "okay". I talked to people, did my job, didn't cry, and went home.

 "Somedays I just want to scream. I dont want to censor or silence myself. Its beyond longing to simply release the feral beast trapped within. She is not a quiet, passive person. She rages, slamming against the walls of her prison while snarling and clawing any happiness nearby. She need not be provoked for simply being awake is enough to draw forth a mighty anger bore from the darkest reaches of my own soul. Today, today I want to scream. I dont want to reason with those I love or hope for their acceptance. Somehow today I want to scream to the overcast skies that there are still unhealed wounds, that I can not bear the saline words ground into them. The silent denial of truths that rock my world, the blissful ignorance of the black abyss monster always poised to drag me under the churning waves. The endless nights laying awake because I can feel the shadows settle as my demons hover over me waiting to lead a legion of nightmares into my slumbering mind. Its the conflict of the primal being as she struggles with her rational form. Its the cramped box of expectation as the air runs out.

Today, today I want to scream. I want to roar, leave my throat raw with the rage I hold inside. Today I dont want to smile and lie."  - Feb. 2013 

                                                                                       -D.M.

    Asking "Are You Okay?" welcomes a confession and encourages a lie. The person asking the question is probably not ready for a confession, yet a lie can be incredibly isolating to a survivor. Think about your closest family, your dearest friends, and the person you love. When you ask them if they are okay, you probably want a truth. You want to know their thoughts and feelings at that moment. You are looking for a confession.

   Now, consider your classmates, coworkers, customers, or casual acquaintances.  Imagine asking one of them if they are okay. Perhaps they are a bit too quiet today. Suppose that instead of saying yes or no, that they started to cry and tell you that they woke up from a nightmare of being brutally beaten, nearly to death, even when they begged their attacker to stop. Imagine that that attacker was someone who really existed, perhaps a parent or lover to this person. I doubt that many of us are ready for that type of disclosure. Those of us asking are not ready for that answer, or any like it. It breaks the social convention that someone should share something so intimate on a whim. It was loaded, there was no way we could know what would be said. I have been the one to ask this very question.

  I have been the one shocked by a moment of intimate words that I had no way to relate to or comfort to offer. No apologies or cliches could come to mind. I stood there unwilling to be closer to that person, unable to help or understand. I had basically reached out offering help and found that my lifeline was nothing more than a frayed bit of twine. I wasn't ready for the answer to the question I had asked." Are You Okay?" -D.M.

I have also asked others, survivors that I know and care about, this very question out of genuine concern. Either the response was half-hearted and rang hollow of the truth, or it seemed to inspire a moment of agony before the person burst into tears as their fear of answering and upsetting me or driving me away finally broke the dam of emotions pent within them. Though I know that they knew the question for what it meant, I could tell that they resented me in that moment of genuine concern and good intentions. -J

  And I have been the one to answer.

   I have stood quietly doing my job when I wanted to scream and had a coworker ask me if I was okay. I said no, because I woke up from a nightmare so violent that it made me physically sick. That I was tired of this special hell that comes to me when I sleep. He is a nice man but he was not ready for that answer. It felt good to say it out loud but then to realize that I had upset someone who I rather liked. I could see he had no answer for me, and no comfort. It made me feel sad and alone. I had tried to reach out to another person but they couldn't understand this very personal hell I was in. It was a moment of despair. The question had seemed so like a glimmer of light on such a dark day. But, I had broken that social contract. I had failed to answer him the way he expected. I had to, I couldn't bear to lie even once more about this. I was sick of pretending.

  Alternately, I have stood there and lied. I have said a million times over, day and day out that I was okay. I knew that I wasn't okay. I knew that I was no where close to believing my own lie and that perhaps if one more trigger hit, that I would crave an oblivion from which there was no return. It was isolating, miserable, and the place from which that abyss monster comes. That echoing silence that seems unbearable and infinite. It was killing every worthwhile part of me, but I lied because I didn't know how to handle the discomfort of a broken social contract. I did this for well over a year until I was forced to explain why I needed an escort to my car at night. -D.M.

      One thing I've found useful is to answer with, "Not right now, but it's all right.  I'll be okay later," or some variant thereof.  This both serves to reassure the person I'm speaking to, and, to be honest, it reassures me a little.  It's a reminder to myself that this will pass, and I will feel okay again.   - T.

    I have come to truly feel that asking if someone is okay is one of the biggest loaded questions we could ever ask. Our society has created a social contract where this question has two meanings, one to our intimate circle and one for everyone else. Those in that outer circle should not answer honestly, but with a binary yes or no. We really haven't been taught how to respond when the answer is beyond that. There is no way to win on either side of that question.

  For me, "are you okay?" is at the same time a welcome and dreaded question.  From people I'm close to, I welcome it - the chance to share and get some support.  Sometimes, just knowing that someone cares enough to honestly ask if I'm okay can be a lift. On the other hand, with strangers or acquaintances, all too often I feel like I have to lie, to say I'm okay at times when I'm really not.  Sometimes, if I know it's absolutely visible that I'm not okay, I lie about why I'm not okay, saying that I'm feeling sick or something like that.

  These days, I tend to divide people up into three groups for how I respond - strangers and acquaintances who I lie to; friends who I will tell that I'm not feeling okay, but not go into detail with; and those who I will talk to in detail. In my case, things get complicated by the fact that I still don't feel like I can be completely open with everyone I'm close to about my experiences.  I was abused by my uncle, and bringing that up with my family is just too much of a potential minefield for me right now.

                                                                        - T.

   The best way to move around this loaded question seems to be using more specific questions in it's place. T says it well.

 For loved ones, I'd suggest that asking more specific questions can be helpful - as D.M. writes, 'okay' can cover a broad reach of ground, so it can be easier to answer specific questions, or even if given a bit of framing.  For example, "I've noticed you're staring off into space a lot.  Is there something on your mind you'd like to talk about?", or "I'm worried about how down you've seemed lately.  Are you okay?"  This expresses an interest beyond the simple polite "are you okay?" and can make it easier to open up.

   Also for loved ones, touch can make it easier for someone to open up.  Even something as simple as taking their hand can be a huge help.  If you're unsure, ask.  If they pull away, don't pursue.  Remember, if you're dealing with someone who's been abused, they have many memories of hurtful and hateful touching, and sometimes those memories can be overwhelming, even with someone they love.

  While not common, dissociative disorders are sometimes a complication for those who have been abused, and can make the question of "are you okay?" very difficult to answer for those of us who are also dealing with them.  I think that deserves deeper treatment in relation to dissociative disorders in general, though, so I'll talk about that in a future post. [ A section on dissociative disorders largely written by T. will be included as a later section. If this subject is of interest to you, please comment and we will get you more information.]

  

About Sharing: A Personal Perspective

  I have started to write "How to Communicate: Sharing" about six times now. I always falter about two paragraphs in.  I wanted the readers here to know that I am putting a lot of thought into this next post. August is just not my month and some family issues have made writing a back burner activity for a bit.

  Here are some of my rambling thoughts on sharing and my personal experiences in the matter. The next post should be an actual how to.

  "  Sharing is such a personal experience and its incredibly unique to everyone. There are basics that I can provide as a template but that is about all. Those basics will help as much as anyone can help to do what seems like an impossible task.

   I can not tell you how many times I started to say something and couldn't. I never wanted to hurt those I loved and I still avoid mentioning my past when I am with some of my family. These people love me unconditionally. They are part of my past, and there are cycles of dysfunction that facilitated some of the places I have ended up. I do not blame them in any way. I have spent a long time thinking things over and trying to empathize with their situations. I wont say that I haven't been bitter or angry, because I have. It was just beyond me to want to hurt another person if I could avoid it.

  That being said, I have always been a writer. I have a number of poems that allude to the truth. I have blogs, journal entries, and songs. They were always out for others to see, and I always wanted someone to ask me what those things were about. I thought that maybe it would easier if I didn't actually start the conversation. Many times I was asked if I had a problem (like drinking) or if I was okay. I never could answer those questions with more than a yes or no.  I have had my parents miss huge red flags. And I have even outright lied about things before.

  I spent some time attending church. I loved sunday school and I really wanted to find that salvation that is often preached about. I really wanted that solace and close bond with a higher being. I read all of my childrens bible and much of an adult one. Ultimately it was a bible verse that ended my faith. I found a verse about how rape victims were to be treated. It destroyed me for a bit. I felt like if the church and god couldnt forgive me for this secret I felt that I had to keep, then maybe no one would. 

    I never did find solace in the church and drifted into a very dark place for a while. It was at one of the lowest points of agony in this darkness, that the sunshine took away my misery. I can't say how or why but it was as if the light in the leaves just lifted a huge burden from me. I did not feel whole, nor did I feel healed. Only that the lion's share of pain was gone. It was soon after that moment that I found the trinkling, tiny amount of strength in me to say something for real and outloud to another person.

  I can't remember now how I came to it. I was sitting outside the local library, on the ground, between my two best friends. I took a deep breath and then another before I could even spit out the simple sentence that I had been abused. It felt like time stopped. It was real now. One of my friends, my best friend to this day, had to leave at some point. The other friend ( who would become my second abuser when we dated) asked if I wanted to talk about it. I tried to tell my whole story. The words seemed to flow out of me in this halting horrible way. It came to a point where he just begged me to stop. He said he couldn't bear to hear more of it. Thinking back, well that was the worst part. The part where he asked me to stop talking was the worst part of everything. 

  I didn't feel relieved at the time. I felt scared, terrified really. It took time before I felt okay again. I realize that the more I admitted to that part of my past, the easier it was to bear. I reached out to girl in one of my classes who seemed like she needed a friend and I told another friend about it. I never went into detail again. I still remember the abuse in detail, but the telling of it is fading. 

   I won't promise that telling your story is painless or a relief. Its terrifying and it hurts. It rips your heart out a little and yet somehow manages to stitch together a bit of your soul. It makes a nightmare into a reality, but also allows you to move past it in some ways. 

  Today, I have a more colorful past and I have survived more abuse. I am also a million times more willing to tell my story. I am better for it. I have met a number of other amazing people who have stories similar to my own. The telling of this silent truth I had kept for so long, it freed a portion of me that hated the lying and has allowed me to grow as a person. It has given me a unique and wonderful support system. 

  Sharing my story took more strength than I ever imagined having, but not once have I regretted it. I have been required to speak to police officers and talk to attorneys. I have been called a liar, even. I am scared to visit my home town sometimes but its been worth it all. I have saved lives, helped other people,and made the world a better place. 

   So today, as a survivor, I am proud to say that I routinely cause open debates about abuse in my workplace. I have memorized help resources and given out that information to those who have needed it. I have sat and talked to friends who had no one else. And I write this blog. I am so incredibly proud to be here in this way, telling my story, that even my family knows it is here. "

                                                                                              -D.M.

"     I’ve never shared my whole story.  I’ve doled it out in chunks to different people — some have gotten most of it, but I don’t think there’s anyone who’s heard it all.  It’s been painful, sometimes.  It’s been hard to ask people to listen, and sometimes telling it has been painful, leaving gouges that last for days.

     I’ve lost a friend, trying to share with her — but I’ve made others, and discovered new depths of friendship with other friends I’ve had.

    Overall, it has helped.  I’m getting better, and opening up has been a part of that process.
But I still lie to people.  My family doesn’t know, and probably never will.  It’s habit to tell people that I feel okay, even when I don’t.  It’s habit to deflect and talk about other things.

     I’m not ready to share my story openly with everyone — but I want to share more with the people I have shared with.

                   That’s about all I can say right now."

                                                                                                            - T.