Saturday, November 16, 2019

What I Won't Let My Trauma Take from Me

I've lost a lot due to the trauma I've suffered. I haven't really even begun the process of assessing and mourning those losses but when I do, I know it will be incredibly difficult. When the combination of my stressful career and coping with the impact of my trauma became too much for me, I simply pressed pause on my social and personal development for more than a decade so I could continue to be able to function in my career. I withdrew from having an active social life, which means I stopped dating (and am unsure if I ever will resume--how does that even work these days?). Without making a deliberate decision not to do so, I never had children (and now have to face that it is almost certainly too late). Many of my friendships were disrupted, worn down, and ultimately ended as I tried my best to simply manage and cope mostly in silence, never able to explain what was going on with me, with the result that I'm now in my early 40's with minimal social supports, living a very isolated existence.

That's all very painful, but there's something I'm still proud of and can still strive for.

I won't judge others for how they cope with their pain, but I made a pledge to myself long ago about the one thing I won't let my trauma take from me. I won't let it take my compassion and empathy for others. My ability and willingness to see the pain and injustices in the world and feel for those who experience them. And my ability to do so while still being able to (when appropriate) maintain a principled stance, within the limits of whatever my role may be, that enables me not to get swept away by the pain of my own experiences. It's the one thing I've kept at the forefront of my mind the entire time I've suffered: how to be someone who has these difficult experiences, and yet still navigate the difficult moral and ethical landscape of the world with openness and empathy. How to not let those experiences stop me from striving to do better and be better--even if I have to say goodbye to the hopes and dreams I had for myself.

I understand why some might feel a need to withdraw sometimes from doing painful work that triggers them, and I am in no way diminishing the need for self-care. I definitely need to learn to do a better job of taking breaks, recharging, and not committing to more than I can reasonably bear, but I choose not to allow my trauma to lead me to withdraw permanently. I don't want to retreat to some comfortable view of the world while people continue to suffer. I want to use my own trauma to make me a better ally to others who have suffered (whether in the same or different ways as I have). I want to use my own strength that I've had no choice but to develop to enable me to stand alongside others and not turn away when their suffering might just be "too much" for others to witness. I know what it's like to feel like "too much." I want to be one of the people who always strives to build and maintain a capacity to witness the terrible things that happen in the world so I can do what I can to help (as frustratingly limited as my ability to truly change the world may be).

And just as importantly, I choose to continue to be someone who doesn't let my fears, grief, and trauma responses hold me hostage while I do so. If I'm going to remain in the landscape where people suffer, and are harmed, marginalized and oppressed, then I need to have eyes fully open. I need to be capable  of not only reflecting on my own experiences but also stepping back from them to imagine the point of view of others with very different experiences, even when it might otherwise be triggering for me. I'm proud to say this is something I'm capable of doing--a capacity I have carefully cultivated for as long as I can remember--that has served me well in enabling me to function as a principled member of society and an ethical and professionally responsible lawyer while also coping with my own difficult internal life. It's never perfect, but it's something I can proudly keep striving to do better at.

Maybe this way of coping didn't serve me well personally. Maybe it resulted in me directing all of that pain onto myself in ever-harsher ways so it wouldn't infect my ability to empathize and engage with others in the principled way I've felt called upon to do. I'll have to come to terms with whatever losses I may have suffered as a result. And that will truly suck.

But at least there's this one thing I didn't let it take from me. Something I can build on. Something truly meaningful that I can strive to improve on. Something important. Something. 

As always, please note that I am a lawyer, not a mental health professional of any kind. I have no expertise in trauma or mental health. Also, please note that any opinions and views expressed in this blog are solely my own and are not intended to represent the views or opinions of my employer in any way. For more information about the purpose of this blog, please see here and for a bit more information about my personal perspective on this issue, please see "my story" here

I am very grateful to have received a "Clawbie" Award for this blog (which reflects the importance of this topic): https://www.clawbies.ca/2019-clawbies-canadian-law-blog-awards/

For some of my external writing on this topic, see:  

Tuesday, November 5, 2019

If You Don't Love Yourself....

There are all kinds of reasons why self-love, self-worth, self-compassion and self-care are important.

Or so I'm told (and I do believe it)....

But I want to be clear on one thing. If you just can't seem to love yourself, have compassion for yourself, and/or care for yourself, it does not mean that you are a less worthy person than others as a result of your inability to do so.

For some of us, the ability to feel these things for ourselves has been taken from us, e.g., as a result of trauma and/or a mental health condition. We just can't seem to love and value ourselves in the way we're told that we should.

Obviously, there are treatments for this, some of which may work for some of us, and some may not. I strongly encourage anyone who can seek treatment to do so. I hear treatment can be quite successful for many people.

But in the meantime, don't let anyone use the harm that has been done to you that has resulted in the inability to love and care for yourself, as a basis to invalidate the love and care that you give to others and the contributions you make to the world.

If you can't seem to love yourself, but you are kind and loving to others, then my firm view is that the love and kindness you give counts every bit as much as someone else's. Sayings like "before you can love others, you have to love yourself" are well-meaning but discriminatory bullshit in my opinion.

And if you care for others, despite being unable to care for yourself, that doesn't mean that you don't deserve to be appreciated for the amazing good that you do. If you can't seem to feel compassion for yourself, but feel incredible compassion for others, then that is still real and valid.

Maybe for pragmatic or altruistic reasons, we are constantly telling people that they have to be "positive" and "self-loving" and "self-compassionate" to properly care for others. That may or may not be true in many cases. Of course, some kinds of selflessness are draining, harmful and counter-productive, but we shouldn't assume this is the case for everyone. Some of us are just making the best of the good things we can experience when genuine self-love/care isn't available to us. Some of us just truly care for others even when we aren't able to feel the same way for ourselves.

You can love someone and not love yourself. It's sad and heartbreaking because it shouldn't have to be that way, but that doesn't mean it can't be valid and true. You can give to others and enjoy the feeling of doing so, even if you are currently disabled from caring for yourself the way you might want to. You need to be cautious to ensure that your lack of self-care doesn't interfere with your ability to properly care for others but that doesn't mean you can't do it.

I want people to try to love themselves because they deserve it, not because it's just one more thing to fault themselves for feeling unable to do. So maybe the first step in self-love, self-compassion and self-care is just to stop feeling like failures without it. For my part, I need to accept myself as I am, and see the good things that I'm still able to contribute to the world even if my relationship with myself is never corrected. I can love someone else even if I never learn to love myself. I can and do feel immense compassion for others even if I just can't seem to extend it to myself deep down. And although some self-care is required to care for others, deficiencies in my overall self-care that don't render me incapable of caring for others won't invalidate any good I do.

For me, I'm willing to try to learn what it means to love, value and care for myself for my own sake, but the first step is that I need to be okay with the possibility that it might not materialize. I can still have good experiences and meaningful connections to others. I can still make a difference in the world. My value is not limited by how much I'm able to know and feel it.

When I reflect on my own experience, I just want to tell anyone similarly situated that it's okay. No one can take from you the good things you feel and contribute. And an inability to value yourself shouldn't mean that others won't value you.

So maybe we can create a sense of community in which we can help each other out...

If you're depressed and can't seem to value yourself, that's okay because I value you anyway. If you've been hurt so much and so deeply that you no longer feel capable of compassion for yourself, that's okay because I will feel it for you. If we all do that for each other, maybe it can help us get by until we learn to feel something more on our own for ourselves. And if some of us just never get there, that's okay because we still have that sense of community and connection to lean on. It isn't everything but it isn't nothing either.

Yes, there's all kinds of soul-searching and philosophizing that humans need to do to figure out how best to live that may call on us to bring certain parts of ourselves more into balance, but I'm not trying to resolve that here. I'm not trying to tell anyone how to live their best life. And I'm not advocating for self-sacrifice on principle. I'm just trying to tell those whose condition currently prevents them from feeling something everyone tells us we should that it's okay with me for them to be as they are.

I want healing for everyone but in the meantime, we need to stop shaming and invalidating people for the ways in which they fall short.

My message to others who might be inclined to beat themselves up over this:

Your love still counts. Your compassion still has value. Your care for others still creates goodness in the world....

Even
If
You
Don't
Love
Yourself.

(But I hope someday you will because you deserve it)

As always, please note that I am a lawyer, not a mental health professional of any kind. I have no expertise in trauma or mental health. Also, please note that any opinions and views expressed in this blog are solely my own and are not intended to represent the views or opinions of my employer in any way. For more information about the purpose of this blog, please see here and for a bit more information about my personal perspective on this issue, please see "my story" here

I am very grateful to have received a "Clawbie" Award for this blog (which reflects the importance of this topic): https://www.clawbies.ca/2019-clawbies-canadian-law-blog-awards/

For some of my external writing on this topic, see: