Vicarious Trauma and Compassion Fatigue Resources

by Aunt Becky | Feb 25, 2020

What is Trauma?

A traumatic experience can mean a number of different things, from being a victim of some form of abuse or life-threatening situation, to witnessing any event where a person’s life or physical safety is threatened or where sexual violence occurs.

Please see our page about emotional trauma to find out more about trauma and trauma responses.

Many people report few symptoms or are able to bounce back relatively quickly after experiencing a trauma. And while resilience is our natural tendency as humans, some people find that the typical course of healing goes astray and many symptoms remain. This persistence of symptoms is known as post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD).

Please see our Post Traumatic Stress Disorder Resources for more information.

PTSD symptoms, including nightmares, upsetting memories of the event, avoiding reminders of the trauma, and increased depression, anxiety, guilt, shame, and irritability or anger, can remain with a person for a long time, even many years, after the initial traumatic event is over. These longer lasting symptoms can interfere with our lives and prevent people from achieving some of the goals that may be most important to them, including performing well at work or school, or forming close and trusting connections with friends and loved ones.

Trauma and addiction have a two way relationship: people who have experienced trauma in the past are more apt to abuse drugs and alcohol as a means to cope with emotional stress; while people who abuse drugs and/or alcohol are more likely to experience a traumatic event due to their addictions. Recent studies indicate that nearly half of people who have PTSD also meet the criteria for substance use and abuse, and 75% of people who are dealing with addiction have experienced trauma(s) in their lives. In addition, many people who abuse substances also have underly

It’s unfortunate that while addiction and substance use and abuse often do help with the feelings of trauma in the short term; however avoiding emotional issues can’t last forever.

Please see our resources about addiction, addiction recovery, and alcoholism for more information.

Understanding Vicarious Trauma, Compassion Fatigue, And Burnout:

Vicarious trauma generally involves a shift in the way you view the world; your beliefs about the world may be altered and/or damaged by repeated exposure to traumatic material, for example.

Compassion fatigue and burnout are related concepts that share some similarities with vicarious trauma, and a person might find themselves experiencing one or more of these states at the same time. For the purposes of this resource page, we are going to use vicarious trauma and compassion fatigue interchangeably, but for reference, the comparison is written below.

Compassion fatigue is the condition of emotional and physical fatigue that results when you feel compassion for those you care for, see on the news, hear about on the television but do not have adequate time away to refuel and care for themselves. It differs from vicarious trauma in that it is not typically characterized by the presence of trauma-related symptoms and does not necessarily involve a change in one’s world view.

Burnout is a term sometimes used interchangeably with vicarious trauma, but this condition does not necessarily involve a traumatic element. People can experience burnout when they have a toxic work environment or when they feel themselves to be doing tedious or otherwise trying work without getting enough time for rest or appropriate self-care.

What is Vicarious Trauma?

The term was first used by in 1990; vicarious trauma described the constant barrage of life and death situations experienced by nurses, doctors, therapists, first responders, and the police. To really nail down this definition, the American Counseling Association defines vicarious trauma as a “state of tension and/or preoccupation of the stories and trauma experienced by others.” It’s also sometimes referred to as secondary trauma or compassion fatigue.

With all that’s been going on in the world, it’s no wonder so many of us of walk around like zombies, trying to understand how to feel good when life – and the world seems so terrible. Social media has connected us, obviously, but it also tends to show us much suffering of others. And with all the events screaming through your Facebook (or Twitter) accounts, it can become incredibly difficult for us to feel happiness. A lot of us take social media breaks, only to find the same issues blaring at us through our television.

And it’s hard to look away; you want to support campaigns like #MeToo, send love to the survivors of mass shootings, and pray (if that’s the sort of things you do) for those losing house and home. It’s the number of awful of events occurring every single day that can make us fearful, unhappy, depressed, apathetic, and/or pessimistic.

As the speed of news flashes before us, barely giving us the chance to breathe in between horrifying things going on, it’s important for us to understand how these traumas affect us. Are they leading to bad, awful feelings? Are we reminding ourselves to take extra care of ourselves during this stressful time? Are we isolating ourselves from loved ones? Are we behaving differently; as though the constant threat is looming over us? Vicarious trauma is considered to be the cost of caring for others.

For many years, vicarious trauma was considered in terms of the helping professions: an ER doc, a hospice nurse, a therapist, a firefighter, a police officer. These were the people on the front lines: they saw things no one else had to, experienced things that not everyone would understand, and it tended to increase as time went on. How many years can a therapist listen to rape victim(s), doctors try to save dying people, nurses put into untenable situations that no one really understands before it’s all too much to handle.

It’s the advent and increasing access to the news as it happens that’s now causing previously unexposed people to feel these traumatic situations as if they were right there.

Caregiver Stress and Burnout:

When we typically discuss vicarious trauma and compassion fatigue, it’s assumed that we’re talking about medical staff, therapists, and first responders. Perhaps, though, the biggest number of people who are experiencing compassion fatigue and vicarious trauma are those who are unpaid, untrained caregivers. Caregivers are unpaid people who care for a number of different kind of people:

Ailing Parents
Friends
Mentally Ill People
Special Needs Children

And often at the same time with various people.

Over 50 million people in the United States alone provide care for aging and ailing parents.

And if you’re a full-time caregiver, it’s likely a 24/7 job with no breaks, no reprieve, no time for personal care, no time fo fun, and no time to process anything that is thrown at you every minute of every day. This can lead to major health issues, mental health issues, feelings of being overwhelmed and not appreciated.

Please read Caregiver Resources for more information on caregiver burnout, stress, and ways to help alleviate some of that stress.

Please read Hospice Resources for more information.

What Is The Sandwich Generation?

Most notably the sandwich generation, which is a descriptor for people who are both caregiving for their older adult parents who are sick AND trying to care for their children – sometimes they try to work as well. This is a major stress and often, with finances being drained quickly, caregiver stress can feel unmanageable.

As people around us age, “learning to parenting your parent” is becoming increasingly common. People in this Sandwich Generation are generally stuck in the middle between caring for aging parents and caring for their own children. The ever-increasing lifespan of people means that more and more of us will be put in this position – many of us having to do this on top of a full-time job. While living longer and longer can be excellent, each year that goes by means that age-related problems are becoming a burden on the members of the sandwich generation. These problems can include chronic illnesses, long hospital stays, multiple medications, dementia, deafness, becoming bedridden, and eventually unable to properly care for themselves. Often, without the funds, these caregivers must care for their aging parent in their own home – often with parents who need round-the-clock care.

This is nearly impossible feat and it can put a strain on everything from finances, to relationship issues, to being unable to properly parent your child.

Please visit our caregiver resources for more information on coping with caregiving.

How Do We Know If The Impact Is Too Much For Us To Handle?

As is the case with any type of traumatic event, some people will be able to handle vicarious trauma and have it not affect their daily lives. Others feel a sense of hopelessness and feel overwhelmed. Don’t expect that your response will be the same as, well, mine. This isn’t a contest and there are no real rules as to how vicarious trauma affects us. If you’re wondering if you’re experiencing vicarious trauma, look below and see if you see yourself in these symptoms:

How’s your daily mood? Is it the same as it usually is? Are you experiencing mood changes?
Are you increasingly worried or irritable?
Do you feel unsafe?
Do you feel hopeless and helpless?
Are you isolating yourself from your loved ones?
Are you engaging in risk-taking behavior by drinking or drugging to escape your daily life?
Has it become hard to concentrate?
Do you find yourself constantly thinking about the traumas?
Has your beliefs about the world changed?

If you see yourself in these statements, you may be dealing with vicarious trauma and compassion fatigue.

Who Is at Risk of Being Affected by Vicarious Trauma?

Really, anyone who has been working with trauma survivors, trauma as a part of their job, or those who experience vicarious trauma from the news can be affected. These factors may increase your vulnerability:

Having lived through other traumatic experiences
Difficulty discussing your feelings
Having traumatic experience happen on the regular at your job
Feeling social isolation, loneliness – both at work or in your personal life
People who withdraw to avoid experiences, feelings, or blame other people in super stressful situations
At work, people who’ve not been properly prepared, oriented, or trained in their job
If you’re newer and less experienced in your job
Unending, constant intense exposure to trauma on the job
Lack of availability of people to support and help you discuss your trauma

What Are Some Of The Warning Signs That You’re Developing Compassion Fatigue?

Physical Warning Signs

Getting sick more often
Sore back and neck
Total exhaustion
Insomnia
Headaches
Irritable bowel, GI distress
Rashes, breakouts
Teeth grinding during the night
Heart palpitations
Hypochondria

Behavioral Signs

Not returning phone calls at work and/or at home
Anger and Irritability at home and/or at work
Avoiding social events
Using drugs and/or alcohol
Bingeing a ton of Netflix/Hulu/TV at night
Watching high trauma shows and news as entertainment
Decreased decision-making abilities
Increasing issues in personal relationships
Challenges with intimacy and/or sex due to trauma
Frequently negatively gossiping
Changing in eating – restrictive eating or overeating
Inability to stop thinking about the trauma

Emotional/Psychological Signs

Emotional exhaustion
Negative self-image
Depression
Increased anxiety
Feelings of hopelessness
Guilt
Reduced ability to feel sympathy and empathy towards clients or family/friends
Cynicism
Anger
Resentment of demands asked of you at work and/or at home
Diminished sense of enjoyment/career(i.e., low compassion satisfaction)
Depersonalization – spacing out during work or the drive home
Disruption of world view/heightened anxiety or irrational fears
Intrusive imagery
Hypersensitivity to emotionally charged stimuli
Insensitivity to emotional material/numbing
Suicidal thoughts

What Are Some Other Symptoms That May Indicate Vicarious Trauma/Compassion Fatigue?

While many of the below symptoms can be described as symptoms of depression, there’s much more to symptoms of vicarious trauma; these symptoms are a bit more like PTSD because they are in relation to a number of involuntarily traumatic situations. It’s the culmination of a large number of problems and trauma all rolled into one.

Avoiding talking about the trauma
Beginning to feel numb to what they are experiencing
In a constant state of fight or flight or flee or free
Survivor’s guilt
Sleep issues (sleeping too much or insomnia)
A free-floating anger or irritation at others
Losing sleep
Fear that they’re not doing enough to help others
Dreams being overtaken by trauma
Feeling less and less joy for things they once loved
Feeling trapped and helpless; unable to get out
Intrusive thoughts about the trauma(s)
Less feelings of satisfaction and feeling like they’re not making a difference
Absenteeism and tardiness to work
Rejecting interpersonal and physical closeness to other people
Dropping out of activities once enjoyed
Dissatisfaction with like and other people
Blaming other people for the trauma
Low-self image
Hopelessness and/or apathy
Problems with interpersonal relationships
Changing their world view

Coping With Compassion Fatigue And Vicarious Trauma:

With the news constantly spitting out horrible images of people dying, planes crashing, and catastrophic events, so naturally, we have to find ways to manage and overcome vicarious traumatizations. Let’s go over some good ways to cope:

First, you need to recognize that you’re experiencing this and start to make your very own self-care plan. This may look different for everyone, but the following ideas are the basic tenant of your recovery.

Second, make sure you’re spending quiet time alone. If you can practice meditation, you may like to try it. If you don’t, make sure that you spend some time coming back to the core of who you are. Returning and reminding you of your former self can be very centering and help you achieve some inner balance.

Third, you also need to connect and have meaningful conversations at least once a day. Talking to someone about something other than just pleasantries can do your soul a whole lot of good; especially if you’ve managed to isolate yourself.

Fourth, do something you love every day that’s good for you. Vow to learn to cook, take up a hobby you have time for, and do it every single day.

Fifth, self-care is a total must. Most of us, when we develop compassion fatigue through vicarious traumas have a tendency to avoid taking care of yourself. This isn’t an option when you’re struggling with compassion fatigue.

This is gonna make a lot of people mad, but this is important, create your own principles about dealing with vicarious trauma and your exposure to it – turn off the TV, get off Facebook, and turn your phone totally off when you’re not feeling as though you’re able to handle it. You’re not going to die if you don’t constantly read status updates or see what your BFF is making for dinner.

If your in the medical field, a therapist, or a first responder, making a plan isn’t as easy as clicking a button. This requires some serious soul searching: what makes you happy? What (pardon the phrase) sparks joy in you? These questions should help you understand some principles of care to use in traumatic situations. For example, if you’re emotionally exhausted while thinking about your job, maybe it isn’t the gig you wanted it to be. There are always a zillion different jobs for medical professionals, therapists, and first responders.

No news is good news. It’s a familiar enough phrase, between accounts of natural disasters, sexual assault, child abuse, and maltreatment in detention centers and violence against racial, ethnic, and sexual orientation, and gender minorities, there is more than enough going on in the world to lead one to feel anxious and sad.

The emotions and reactions, along with a number of other thoughts and feelings, are challenging enough to cope with. For people who have survived a trauma, this barrage of information can be particularly overwhelming and can result in feelings of hopelessness, despair, paralyzing fear, and rage at the people and systems who commit or condone violence.

The Don’ts of Managing Compassion Fatigue and Vicarious Trauma:

Unfortunately, as much as we don’t like hearing about the don’ts in life, it is necessary when it comes to healing yourself from vicarious trauma.

Don’t blame other people for your issues. They are your own and you must deal with them; even though developing compassion fatigue isn’t your fault. Wait until you’ve healed so that you can properly see what needs to change in your life.

Do not make big decisions: now is NOT the time to buy a new house, divorce your spouse, buy a fancy car. When you’ve recovered emotionally and physically from compassion fatigue, you can better assess what you really need. Even though you get an endorphin rush from a big purchase, it won’t last. And when it stops, the guilt creeps in. Always, always, always, always remember that old AA saying “wherever you go, there you are.”

Don’t bother trying a quick fix – drinking and/or engaging in risky behaviors only cover up your feelings only delays them. They’ll be right there with you when you wake up. Addiction and addictive behaviors can only escalate your continued downward spiral.

This is a toughie for most of us, because complaining can feel sooooo good, especially with people who share your views, but don’t make complaining a habit – it’ll only serve to make you feel worse. If you want to share your feelings, talk to a close friend, loved one, or even a therapist. That way, you’re dealing with your emotions and feelings in a safer, more constructive environment.

Help! My Loved One Has Compassion Fatigue and Vicarious Traumatization!

One of the best things you can possibly do to help someone struggling with compassion fatigue and vicarious trauma is to be kind and supportive. In fact, be kind and supportive to everyone you meet!

If your loved one is disclosing their compassion fatigue for the first time, it can be extremely hard to hear that what they’ve thought they’d been hiding is being noticed.

With the main focus on treatment of compassion fatigue and vicarious trauma is to do more self-care and find better work/life balances, some people feel blamed – as though they’ve caused this issue themselves and not as a result of their work – “if you feel compassion fatigue, YOU are not doing enough to care for yourself.”

See, the biggest contributions fo developing compassion fatigue is your work location, your workload, the amount of support staff available, working conditions, and whether or not you’ve gotten training in dealing with trauma-related stress.

Self-care, a wonderful ideal, doesn’t look the same for everyone, it must be figured out based upon how we’ve dealt with other types of stresses in our lives. For some, it can involve leisure activities, doing fun things, developing a satisfying physical activity regime, or getting yourself on a consistent eat and sleep cycle. The balance between self-care and vicarious traumatization is incredibly important to give yourself and your body time to process the event.

When you’re feeling overwhelmed, being social and finding good social groups to join is one of the very best things you can do for yourself.

Write it down – let it out. We’re open 24/7 and a lot of people have been where you are.

When you can’t avoid exposure to traumas and retraumatization, you may feel helpless and hopeless. This is where getting a sense of control in other parts of your life comes in. Helping others, attend local counsel meetings, do something good for others can honestly help to counteract the feelings of helplessness or hopelessness.

Limiting your exposure to traumatic situations is important when you’re trying to reduce vicarious trauma and managing symptoms as they happen can do a lot toward making you feel better about yourself and your life. If you’re in a helping field, reducing your hours, or changing your job to a less-traumatic one can really help reduce vicarious trauma and compassion fatigue.

Additional Resources for Compassion Fatigue and Vicarious Traumatization:

The Offices For Victims of Crimes offers strategies and a toolkit for professionals and lay-people alike to help to learn to understand traumas and begin to heal

Professional Quality of Life Questionnaire

National Sexual Assault Resource Center offers a plan to work on your compassion fatigue and vicarious trauma

American Nurses Association did a study on compassion fatigue, PTSD, and vicarious trauma. These are the results – they’re dense but can be applied to any helping professions.

New Year: Same Problems

by anonymous | Feb 25, 2020 | Allergies, Anxiety, Chronic Fatigue Syndrome, Chronic Illness, Fibromyalgia, Health, Insomnia, Irritable Bowel Syndrome, Pain And Pain Disorders | 0 comments

It’s one in the morning on New Year’s Day. I’m alone in my room savoring the last taste of mini-chocolate donuts before my medicine kicks in. Once it does, I get so nauseous that all I can do is lay still and hope that I can sleep.

When the clock hit midnight, I was lying in bed watching a documentary about obese people on my computer.

I was alone.

The only “Happy New Year” wishes I got were two texts. One was from a wrong number. The other was from one of my friends that I’m in the process of losing touch with; I suspect it was a mass message to everyone in her phone.

My mom and sister were downstairs, but they made no effort to come see me. I’d snapped at them earlier, so they left me alone. My boyfriend didn’t say anything either. I haven’t heard from him since seven, when he said he was sorry for not coming over because he was tired and in a meh mood. I’m guessing he fell asleep.

I’ve spent most of that time crying on and off.

You see, the problem is that I’ve spent the last three days with a pain in my left side, and while it fades in and out, it’s been getting worse. Normally this wouldn’t bother me too much, but in the last three weeks I’ve been in and out of doctors’ offices. I started off with a Urinary Tract Infection (my third since May), and after being off of those antibiotics for a day, I developed an ear infection. While I had my ear infection, my allergies ran amok, and I had to get a special nose spray to allow some sinus tube to open back up. I just finished the antibiotics for the ear infection yesterday morning.

All of this would be overwhelming enough by itself, but this happened after almost an entire year when I didn’t go one week without something happening to make me stop what I’m doing and curl up on the couch and wait for it to go away.

All of this has happened because I have fibromyalgia.

I’d explain what fibromyalgia is to you, but I don’t even know myself – my doctors don’t either. They THINK it’s nerves over-reacting and sending out false pain signals. But if that were all there was, it wouldn’t be associated with so many other things. If you stop by any fibromyalgia website, you can click on a page and find a long list of associated diseases and ailments. All of them aren’t even listed.

As if the pain and stiffness weren’t enough, now I have Irritable Bowel Syndrome, chronic fatigue and insomnia, sensitivity to temperature and certain chemical smells, loss of concentration, and worse, anxiety. I hope that my reproductive organs function properly, because I want children one day (Even though I already know this might not be true. I’ve had one cyst and irregular periods so my doctor threw me on birth control a few years ago and that was that.)

So I have my pill cocktails for this thing and that thing, and I have patterns I need to follow or else something will flare up. There’s an even bigger problem with all of these things: I’m nineteen.

I was diagnosed with fibromyalgia at sixteen, and for a while it looked like it was being managed by medication. I was able to function and go to school and go out with friends. It would flare up every now again around my periods and during the winter, but it was still manageable…until January of this past year.

My doctor decided to switch me to a new drug for fibromyalgia. This drug was hardcore. It came in a trial in this little book container. I had to ease into it because it carried some potentially harsh side effects. It was hell from the beginning. I was nauseous from the second pill, but my mom and I decided to give it a chance.

By the middle of the trial, I was so nauseous and weak that it put my new part-time job into jeopardy. I sat through the orientation trying not to throw up. When I started having heart palpitations to the point where my heart stopped beating long enough for me to panic, we decided to take me off of the drug, but of course, I had to taper down because there was a chance of seizures from suddenly stopping.

Ever since, the problems haven’t stopped. I’m more than a semester behind in college because I’ve had to drop classes. This next semester, I will try for the third time to finish Composition 2 and Intro. to Sociology, and at this point, I’m not sure if I will be able to do it on this try.

I did online classes last semester, and this semester was supposed to be my attempt at real classes again. My anxiety has been right below the surface for weeks. I keep thinking, “If I can’t even make it more than a few days without something happening, how can I make it through classes? How can I live a normal life and have a job when I can barely function for more than a few days?”

I’m very aware of how much my parents spend on my doctor’s appointments and medications – it isn’t a small sum. My mom’s stack of doctor’s bills and reports is easily over six inches. I know my insurance runs out when I hit twenty-five, so I know I have a time limit to finish school and find a job, but I’m going to school to be a high-school English teacher. My starting salary will be somewhere in the mid thirty thousand dollar range.

I don’t want to have to admit that I will have to rely on someone to help take care of me, but honestly, on a teacher’s salary, I will be stuck at home until I pay off all of my student debts or I move in with a boyfriend. I refuse to live with friends because I don’t want them to have to take care of me when I get bad. I don’t want them to have to bring me things when I can’t get up. I don’t want them to have to sit with me when I’m curled up in bed sobbing because I don’t want to be sick anymore.

All I can do is hope that it will go back into remission or I can find a way to manage it because I don’t know how I can ever have a normal life with it as it is. I always have the fear that people are going to leave me because I’m such a mess. I tell my boyfriend that I’m a mess; that I’m falling apart, and he tries to reassure me that the rest of me makes up for it.

It angers me when people don’t take my illness seriously. My sister laughs at me if I tell her why I’m feeling bad. I’ve had people tell me it was all in my head or look suspiciously at me when I can’t give them an adequate explanation of fibromyalgia.

I know I don’t look sick, but I like it that way. If I looked sick every time I felt bad, I’d always look awful. I get mad when I see all this research money being thrown at all these other manageable diseases or anti-ageing products when fibromyalgia has the potential to systematically destroy people’s lives. It doesn’t matter that it’s not deadly: if a disease has a potential to confine you to bed, it deserves funding.

My plans for my future are very tentative. Even if I’m only planning a week in advance, I have to add “I think” to the end of it because I have no idea if I’ll be up to it. I’m sick of having to add “I think” to all of my plans.
I want to have a job. I want to go to school full-time. I to live on my own. I want all of the things people my age complain about. I want these things because they’re normal. I want to know that I can be normal. It hurts to hear people complain about this stuff – I want so badly to do it all.

My political views are becoming more liberal. I’m okay with universal healthcare when we can afford it. I need it. I’d gladly pay extra taxes if it means I don’t have to pay for outrageous doctor bills or ridiculously expensive mediation because I react badly to certain generics.

I support abortion because if I were to accidentally get pregnant, I’d have to choose whether to put my body through excruciating hell and lose all functionality for nine months, or abort. I’m not even fond of the idea of abortion, but I still want that option.

I recently started supporting medical marijuana because my body is being worn down by pain medications. I get upset when people try to oppose me on that one. My favorite argument is that America doesn’t need more high people because people with chronic pain are already high all the time. People in chronic pain take pain pills to function, not to relax. (Also, the people who actually would need medical marijuana hate the people who want to abuse it just as much as you do.) I’d gladly eat a pot brownie instead of taking a pain pill that’ll leave me nauseous and weak for six hours and for half a day afterward because my body is already worn down.

Do I need to repeat that I’m only nineteen?

And all I can do is just sit, wait, swallow some pills, try to exercise when my body lets me, try to eat healthy when my stomach lets me, and hope that I can get everything into a manageable state.

I’m starting to feel it’s too much to hope for it to just go away.

A Figure Appeared In The Darkness

by Vee1978 | Feb 11, 2020 | Abuse, Adult Children of Narcissistic Parents, Mental Health, Narcissistic Personality Disorder, Personality Disorders, Psychological Manipulation, Self Esteem, Shame | 0 comments

A figure appeared in the darkness. In the gleam of the moonlight, I knew it was her, the woman who gave me life. She was small but managed to overwhelm the room with her haughty pride. Her words always cut. They were sharp. The wounds were deep.

They pour out of me and saturate my speech, my art, my work, my relationships.

“What the fuck do you want!?” I demand.

She stands still, as if waiting to pounce. Even silence is a weapon.

“You don’t belong here.” I explain.

She’s dead.

Why is she still here? Why can’t I be rid of her?

She never wanted me. I didn’t belong to her.

I was in her way.

She was compelled by her narcissism, there was no room for anyone or anything else. She hated me for being born, for taking up time and resources. She would have easily sold me if it meant she would now be supreme, the fairest of all. She was the monster in my closet.

She had compassion and love for a few. She left none for me. She made me feel undeserving.

Every time my mother saw me, she realized her mortality, her own demise. She hated me for my youth. She couldn’t stand that I was a specimen of beauty and each day it grew; it was going to outshine her.

She knew that. She couldn’t control it.

So she controlled how I felt about myself. She made sure I knew I was ugly.

She told me every day, “You’re so ugly!” She wished I was a boy. Boys were better.

She didn’t have to compete with boys; she could manipulate them more easily.

She didn’t place value on my academic achievements; to her, I was worthless and stupid.

She didn’t graduate high school. She hated me for having opportunities she never did. She tried desperately to hold me back from being successful at anything.

I was the Repunzel in this warped retelling of the story.

The mother (the witch) had fallen from the high tower and was blinded by the thorn brush she herself harvested. Now she’s an aimless spirit, wandering the halls of my home. She wrestles with an unknown assailant as Jacob wrestled with the angel. She’s asking me for something, but she can’t speak.

Is it forgiveness?

Is she asking me for my blessing?

If I do forgive her and let her go, does this mean I’m free?

Will I ever be free?

Drifting

by Vee1978 | Feb 4, 2020 | Addiction, Codpendence, Emotional Abuse, Enabling, Family, Loving An Addict, Marriage and Partnership, Marriage Problems, Things That Are Bullshit | 0 comments

It starts with the silent dinners. How have I recreated my whole childhood home again? Walking on eggshells. Don’t speak, don’t trigger the beast, just drift, step aside.

Chink.

Happily-ever-after dies when his suffering takes center stage. There is no room in my home for me. I am not enough or I am too much. HE TAKES EVERYTHING OVER. There is no room for my anguish and sadness. There is no place to hide my face. There is no safe place. He has taken them all.

Blast.

Gave up a dear friend, she was toxic to our relationship, but I loved her like WHOA. When my mother passed away in 2007…Michele would have known how to be present. She would have known what to say and when to be silent. She would have reminded me of things I had said. She would be encouraging. But I couldn’t reach out to her. When all doors where closed and all paths were blocked… I turned to Jesus… the first place I should have gone.

Thwack.

Work becomes more important. I am valued here. I am celebrated for my vision, my word, my inappropriate humor. I am secretly trying to think of ways to work overtime and contribute more to after hours events.

Zap.

I explain my desires, my needs. I dive deep, despite the risk, and ask for him to play the role of Daddy and let me be the little girl who needs to be safe and protected. He shames me. He has starved me out. I fall deep into self loathing and hatred. Trust has been severed. Heart has turned stone. I have shut down any trust I ever had. I never speak of my sorrows or pain to him anymore. Initially he’ll try to help…. But then…. In the next couple weeks, when we’re arguing, he uses it against me — ultimate betrayal.

Pow.

He sucks the air out of the room. He belittles me in front of others.

He is constantly nudging me and giving me looks to act appropriately.

I can’t be me…when he’s around. I celebrate with joy when he leaves the house.

I run around foolishly and make a huge mess.

BANG.

I confront him. Air out my grievances. He doesn’t remember any of it. I am in a puddle of hormonal rage and anxiety. I AM NOT CRAZY! God speaks to me clearly and tells me to commit to doing a 40 day fast. During the fast, he shows me his favor. He shows me my strength. I emerge as a warrior. If I can fast for 40 days, I can fucking do anything. My faith is stronger than ever. Jesus will never fail me. I need to commit to only relying on him for all my needs. Mortal men are the most pitiful of creatures. Why was I so blind?

Zip.

He leaves me a note by my nightstand. It’s this long paragraph of lovely words I’ve heard before; Something about him recommitting to us, to me, and becoming the man he needs to be for me.

((( Pause for rolling of the eyes )))

The time and energy for him to write that letter, he could have just taken action. He is all talk. TALK TALK TALK TALK!

If he wants to be the man for me… then bring me coffee in bed, don’t let me worry about putting gas in my car or its maintenance needs. Remove money as a concern for me. Obtain employment that can carry the family and cover us with health insurance so I don’t have to … be the man of the house. Be the spiritual leader that we need. Be the captain of the ship. Be honest about who you are what you need. Don’t suffer in silence. Don’t be so chicken shit. Run interference for me so I can be the wife, mom, and Christian that our family and community craves.

((It’s not too much to ask.))

Smack.

Emergency room visits, doctors that are worthless, procedures and surgeries that do more harm for his crippling debilitating disease. Come to terms with the fact that I will his caretaker. Make plans for WHAT IFs. Keep accurate medical records. Organize it all. Learning to be knowledgeable about his health conditions. Understand his lack of memory is not his fault. Pain is all consuming. Find a support group. Learn to ask for help. Cry more. Learn to be ok with anger but try not to let it consume your soul. Ask Steve the hard questions. Write down his eulogy. Face the facts. Time is not on our side.

Whack.

He comes in this morning and interrupts my workout. I take my headphones off and he informs me that he can hear me laughing all the way on the other side of the house… it’s a 2800 sqft house. So what? I can’t listen to my podcast and laugh in my house now? HE FUCKING TAKES EVERYTHING FROM ME!!!!!!!!

I asked him about having another baby. Nope. He took that away from me too.

I mentioned Viagra and invoked world war three!

Slam.

His only autonomy in our relationship is the ability to say no. No to my advances. No to all my solutions.

It’s the only real strength and control he has. He builds constant brick walls in conversation.

… his health issues are constant and corrosive.

The constant sacrifice enables bitterness.

There is no laughter, outlet. I can’t mock him, our situation, so there’s the alcohol.

Punch.

When he looks down on me and berates my music choices because there is swearing… that does not make me want to be better or do better. It just makes me feel as if I’m in a play and I have no idea what my lines are, what role I’m supposed to be play.. He just makes me feel like a total fuck up.

Wham.

A rift, a fault line separates us. We are on divergent paths. I don’t know where to go from here. I have read all the books, signed all the contracts, invoked all the spells, prayed and fasted, repented for my wicked ways only to cover my face and cry, “ABSALOM, ABSALOM!”

TKO!

What Happens When You Don’t Know

by anonymous | Nov 20, 2019 | Abuse, Addiction, Addiction Recovery, Alcohol Addiction, Domestic Abuse, Family, Loss, Mental Health, Panic Disorder, Social Isolation, Suicide | 1 comment

I guess I’ll start with the things that bother me the most: I am an ex-crack addict, I was homeless, I have a panic disorder, I talk to people who don’t exist, my brother hanged himself, and I was nearly killed by an abusive ex-boyfriend.

I know I have a better life than a lot of people, and I try to be grateful for it.

I feel guilty when I dwell on my problems: other people have it so much worse: how can I complain? How can I mope around or be depressed?!

Oh how I wish I could talk to someone, to sit in a group and swap stories about burning the inside of our mouths, or panic attacks, or how much it sucks to have to lug all your belongings around in a garbage bag.

But I just can’t.

I have walked past the building where NA meetings are held probably a hundred times, looked at their website again and again, memorizing their schedule, but I can’t bring myself to go.

I’m afraid that people won’t like me because I’ve been clean now for four years, that because now I have a car and an apartment in a slightly decent area of the city, I’ll be told to get over it, to stop whining.

On the other hand, I think, what if I go to a regular counselor and I scare them? What if, when I admit to the time I smoked crack with my pregnant best friend, it’s too much and they kick me out?

What if I get the cops called on me when I admit to all the illegal things I’ve done?

Either way, I’ve never felt more isolated and alone then I do now.

I desperately want to be an addict again. When I was addicted, we had our own world; it was nothing good, but everyone was on the same level.

Now I’m surrounded by people that, if they knew what I used to be and what I still am, would go running in the other direction.

I even tried to become an alcoholic for a few months; I drank myself into a stupor everyday, forced it into me until my brain chemistry was so out of whack and my kidneys hurt right through my back.

I still drink – get drunk – by myself, but I have to be careful because it makes my panic disorder worse. I drink just until I feel myself going crazy, stop for a few days, then back at it.

It’s funny, when my brother hanged himself, I was kind of mad that he took that option away from me: you can’t have two kids from the same family both kill themselves!

I’m okay with his suicide, though. I understand it was a planned out thing, so things were obviously pretty bad to get to that point. My brother didn’t speak, though; I was the only one he spoke to until he was about 17, and then he even shut me out.

After a while, I started getting paranoid that he was going to kill me, so I distanced myself from him even further.

I’m pretty alone now.

I lost most of my friends when I got clean, and I’ve moved to a different city since. I hate it here a lot, and most people here are way out of my league education and status wise. I have a few friends from work that I go for drinks with on the weekends, but I can’t really connect or open up with anyone.

I’m afraid to date again; my ex is still too fresh in my mind, and the thought of having to have sex again makes me uncomfortable. I don’t like being touched sexually.

It’s a shame because I would love to have children – they would give me something to focus on, to love and be loved back, without having to be in a relationship.

But I guess as of right now, it’s me, alcohol, and my two darling cats.

How sad.

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