F*ck Feelings (30 page)

Communication No-Nos, Explained

Enduring the effects of trauma is extremely difficult, but it is almost as difficult to have to watch someone you care about suffering through trauma's aftermath. As he thrashes through nightmares, anxiously paces through his days, and struggles with negative thoughts, those close to him can only do their best and bear witness. The traumatized are haunted by past events, while in the present, their loved ones now feel as useless as ghosts.

Intuitively, one might feel that sharing fears and nightmares would provide some relief—expose the real ghosts to daylight and they should disappear—but the symptoms of trauma are often hard to soothe, and the memories that cause them don't vanish so easily.

Trauma probably has such lasting effects because our brains adapt to overwhelming stress by turning us into super-alert, always-on-guard soldiers, so that we won't be taken by surprise a second time. The symptoms are a torment, but they also save the lives of those who can't leave
a dangerous war zone. Unfortunately, for many people, there's no off switch once the war is over.

That's why just sharing intense feelings does not necessarily purge them, no matter what movies and books tell you. Often, it leaves people feeling more shaken and helpless than before, even when friends or therapists are there to offer support. So don't push someone who has been traumatized to tell their story until you're sure they can do so without feeling overwhelmed and that it's more likely to do good than harm.

In the end, there may be no way to get certain kinds of trauma off your chest, be it by sharing, deep hypnosis, or textbook revenge scenarios. Certain treatments may help reduce symptoms and other treatments may help you live with them, but there is no literal or figurative sure-thing trauma eraser.

If you suffer from trauma and symptoms persist, never assume it's because you failed to open up or that you need to open up more. Credit your nervous system with having a very active emergency alarm while discounting the negative, dreadful warnings and dire predictions it puts in your mind. Respect your ability to disregard those warnings, predictions, and symptoms while you go about whatever business matters to you when you're not coping with emergencies.

You may never be able to turn the system off, either by sharing or coaxing someone else to share what the trauma feels like. You can learn, however, to listen to your own needs, interests, and priorities, either in spite of the anxiety you now have to experience or the pain you have to witness.

Among the wishes trauma survivors express are:

• To sleep before insomnia drives them crazy

• To recover from pain an enemy has inflicted on them

• To feel better so they don't have to drink

• To not frighten their families with their unhappiness and silence

Here are three examples:

I've dealt with depression since junior high—I used to cut myself when I was a teenager, and had to be hospitalized for a while in college—but therapy and medication have helped me to live a relatively normal, happy life. My husband knows about my history, but until a couple of years ago, I didn't tell him that one major source of trauma was being molested by my stepfather when I was a kid. He was very supportive until a year ago, when I went through a bad six-months-long depression, and he started to nag me about how I obviously needed more, intensive therapy, because I clearly hadn't really faced my old demons. I needed to get over a nasty depression, is all, and I resented the idea that he was blaming me for avoiding issues and treatment. He won't let it go. My goal is to get him to accept that I don't need to talk it over with someone right now, or maybe ever again.

My husband hasn't been the same since he got back from his last tour of duty in Afghanistan, but he won't talk about it. He has nightmares, he's depressed, and he's very jumpy when we're around crowds. He says he knows he probably has PTSD, but he talks about it with a couple close friends he served with who go to therapy, and he thinks that helps probably as much as anything else since nothing really seems to work for the guys he knows. I just think he doesn't want to deal with the stigma, wait to see a shrink, or start taking a lot of drugs, which is how the VA seems to handle the problem. In the meantime, he's just suffering, and I know he'd feel better if he could talk about it. I try to get him to open up with me, especially during episodes, but he gets irritated when I push him and then completely
shuts down. My goal is to see him talk things out with a professional and get some relief.

My teenage son has never found school easy, but he was a pretty happy kid until a year ago, when he started hanging out with some bad kids and coming home drunk and stoned. He's irritable and unhappy most of the time and gets really angry if my wife and I confront him or just ask if something's wrong. He's just not the same, but we can't get him to talk about what's bothering him or go see a shrink, so we feel helpless and say nothing until we're ready to explode, which we know will do no good. My goal is to figure out how to get him to talk about what's really bothering him, either with me or a shrink, so he can start to get better.

Don't trust the instinct that tells you that the worse the problem, the more talk it needs; sometimes talk is healing, but a lot of the time it has the opposite effect, picking scabs off psychic wounds that would've been best left untouched.

People recover from trauma in their own ways, and while talking may be the best way for you, it may leave the other person raw. Worse, it may leave them infected, so that their trauma now envelops and defines them, making normal life even more difficult.

Instead, use your experience and common sense to examine whether important issues have been talked out, if the effect was positive or negative, and if more words are really what's needed. Then you'll know when enough is enough, and further exploration of feelings is likely to be useless, costly, or actually make things worse. When you know you've done as much talking as will help, prepare yourself and your support team for the next step.

If you've suffered childhood trauma, there will always be people who can't believe you can overcome the problem until you've had a major cathartic experience, first in therapy and then in court, and transformed yourself from victim to avenger. In their fantasies, your empowerment should put an end to the helplessness of depression. In reality, it's not that simple.

Many abused people continue to experience depressions, which aren't
necessarily crippling, long, or resistant to symptomatic management, but also don't go away after a good talk with a great therapist or loving spouse. Their recurrent or persistent symptoms aren't evidence of a failure to share or communicate, just of bad luck and a bad illness.

You'll speak with great confidence if you don't try to persuade anyone other than yourself. Simply announce to your significant other that you've benefited a lot from talking in treatment and from your close, valuable relationship, but have come to accept the fact that, like most people who experience severe depression, you'll have recurrences no matter what.

In the meantime, take good care of yourself to reduce the risk of relapse, manage symptoms when they arise, and ignore them and go about your business whenever possible. Then you can be proud of the way you keep working, parenting, and seeing friends when you're not feeling well.

Don't let anyone say differently without letting them know you disagree. If they can accept that there's no “getting better,” they'll be better about accepting your illness.

If you're close to someone who suffers from PTSD, it's hard to bear their pain and silence, particularly if you're sensitive and need a close conversation. Then your willingness to listen makes their silence seem stubborn and self-defeating. When you know that they've educated themselves about treatment and tried whatever they thought would work, however, don't assume that persistent symptoms mean they haven't shared enough.

Yes, your closeness and sensitivity force you to share in their pain and maybe experience it more than they do, but that's part of the marriage package. If you really can't bear to witness your spouse's illness, ask yourself whether the entire package is worth it.

If it is, learn to ignore your spouse's pain when there's nothing you can do about it; if your relationship is then too silent, spend more time on the phone or with the dog. Remind yourself repeatedly that it's not personal, you have a right to feel lonely, and you're doing a good job of putting up with it, even if your spouse isn't.

If you think that talk will help you figure out what's wrong with someone who has started drinking and drugging, your good intentions will be foiled by unrealistic expectations. Trauma may have started it, but once someone has developed bad habits and addiction, talking about the source of trauma doesn't make the addiction go away. The problem has morphed, and so must your approach.

That's because it's hard to stop bad habits for avoiding pain once they've started, regardless of how much insight someone has into why he's doing it and how much support he receives from people who love him. There's nothing wrong with trying to have a good talk, but be prepared to discover that talk is nothing but a distraction and excuse for delay until he decides to stop the bad ways of getting relief.

Talking about his trauma, and other therapies, will help after someone gets clean and sober, but they won't make sobriety happen. If his addiction stems from self-medication for trauma, he must decide whether he's ready to get sober in spite of the additional PTSD symptoms he may have to experience as a result. If he decides it's worthwhile, then he's ready to begin.

Don't accept the wishful thinking that symptoms of trauma can be cleared up with enough sharing; deep psychic damage is not as easy to get rid of as athlete's foot. If you or your loved one is well informed about treatment and you're sure that talk therapy and openness have been given a good try, accept the fact that, whatever their benefit, they're not a cure. Now it's time to learn how to live with and manage symptoms and curb addiction for an indefinite period so the wound can heal.

Here's what you wish for and can't have:

• Healing through sharing

• Confidence that the right words can help you control your symptoms

• To be able to feel close, regardless of symptoms

• Friends and partners who will always tolerate your symptoms as well as you do

Here's what you can aim for and actually achieve:

• Know your own response to sharing feelings, both when you're symptomatic and not

• Communicate what you think is necessary and helpful, only when you think it will do some good

• Accept that some symptoms are permanent and impersonal

Here's how you can do it:

• Try different talk therapies, including those that encourage you to share how you feel and those that encourage you to stay calm while you review what happened and evaluate your actual options

• Watch what happens when you share too much

• Work and engage with friends and family despite all but the most severe symptoms

• Let people know your silence doesn't mean you're angry or disapproving, just having some symptoms

• Select friends who can tolerate your symptoms and their effect on your ability to talk and have fun

Here's what to tell someone/yourself when you're unable to talk because of trauma symptoms.

Dear [Self/Person Who Can't Stand It When I Get Grim and Silent],

I often wonder what I did wrong when I find myself getting [shaky/scared/completely disconnected from the world around me] for no reason and remember the horrible [event/person/Middle Eastern conflict] that spooked me in the first place. Since then, however, I've become expert at [meditation/self-hypnosis/exposure therapy/skydiving] while still maintaining my [business/family of six/bluegrass band], so I haven't let my symptoms stop me, even if I had to grit my teeth and [synonym for “nearly soil myself”]. That's what I'm proud of.