Sunday, May 24, 2020

A Little Understanding--It's Okay to Acknowledge How Hard This All Is

Pandemic life is really difficult for some of us.

I speak as someone ultra-privileged in many ways yet suffering in others.

Could we please stop sending the message that any of this is easy or that any aspect of this is  no big deal? We all have to make sacrifices, but that doesn't mean we shouldn't acknowledge just how much some people are being asked to give up, and at the very least show some compassion for, if not try to ameliorate, the losses and suffering as much as possible, before we say how angry we are at those who are (seemingly) inexplicably non-compliant.

One personal example: I totally get that wearing a mask is necessary in many circumstances, but please stop the condescending ableist commentary about how it's "no big deal" and there should be complaining whatsoever.

For someone with PTSD, having a mandatory face covering that interferes with breathing can be a really big deal. I'm not going to use this post to explain that. I'm not going to share the nature of some of the trauma I've been through or what it triggers in me to feel like my breathing is being obstructed while I'm unable to help myself by removing the obstacle.

All you need to know is that there are real health consequences for me when I have to wear one.

I do it anyway for public health reasons (because I care about keeping others, especially those who are vulnerable, safe) but that doesn't mean I have no right to complain or seek empathy, or ask that the requirement for masks be limited to circumstances in which they're actually useful.

The consequences for me don't get to override the other considerations but they should at least be weighed and considered.

There are other ways in which my PTSD makes my pandemic experience especially difficult, particularly as someone very isolated with no "close contacts" in my current location and very limited supports.

But I didn't write this post to complain about my circumstances. I'm suffering a great deal due to the pandemic, as so many of us are, but in many ways I'm incredibly fortunate and highly privileged.

As someone who cares about mental health and compassion, I'm simply asking that when we express our disdain for the way others are behaving that we at least ensure that we've (1) attempted to empathize with their situation to understand why they might be acting that way; and (2) done, or at least considered, what we might be able to do to ensure the decisions we make aren't needlessly adding to their suffering. We can't ask others to be on our team if we aren't on theirs.

Some people have lost jobs. Some have lost loved ones. Some are confined in intolerable circumstances. Some are alone while others are trapped with people who are abusing them.

None of this is easy.

I'll be honest and say there are moments when I've felt an overwhelming need to just pretend this pandemic doesn't exist, not because I'm not a good caring person, but because this is a profound shock and my brain wants to protect me by rebelling against the oppressive reality we've all found ourselves trapped in. I've nevertheless continued to follow public health guidelines, but I doubt there is anyone out there who hasn't had moments of just wanting, maybe needing, to wish it all away.

These are things we need to be able to openly acknowledge and discuss in a nuanced, sensitive, compassionate way. Mandatory stoicism isn't the answer here when so many are suffering so much. We need to listen now more than ever. So many people on the margins were routinely ignored and dismissed before when things were normal. Now that things are "unprecedented" there's no way for us to understand the diverse impacts if we don't actually make the effort to have the conversations and truly listen, especially to those whose circumstances we don't intuitively understand. Now is not the time for knee-jerk reactions, judgments and decisions.

Yes, we need to make policy decisions that may limit the freedom of many and cause some to suffer particularly harshly for the greater good. I'm not here to personally say what those decisions should be or how they should be enforced.

And judging others for how they conduct themselves may also be unavoidable (I'm certainly not immune to such judgments myself). But as we do so, let's also try:  (1) listening/empathizing and (2) asking what we can do to help. Maybe at the end of the day some things just can't be fixed by either of those steps. Maybe the judgment will remain, but before we vocalize our displeasure about it, let's make sure we aren't missing something important: a little bit of perspective perhaps.

I'm still learning it myself and I doubt we can eradicate the frustration and quick judgments. But we can try.

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:  





Saturday, May 23, 2020

Healing is Not Always Easy and That's Okay

Without going into details, I can say that I've been experiencing the downside of healing lately. Things have been extremely difficult and painful, and I find myself wondering for the first time if it was a mistake to attempt to heal.

The thing about healing is that for some it may be genuinely straightforward and easy. There may be a simple step to take: once you do it, you wonder what took so long and you exclaim, "If only I had done that sooner." Often the messaging on mental health speaks as if all healing is like this: "Reach out and you will be helped" as if it's a presto-change-o magic-pill scenario. Reaching out is the only thing missing. Do that and you'll be saved.

But one thing that I think gets neglected a lot in this discourse is that sometimes (especially with complex trauma) there may be no straight line to healing, no easy path.

Sometimes the depth and complexity of one's suffering makes the path to healing almost unavoidably complicated. There are dangers, difficulties and drawbacks along the way. The obstacles in the path may include pain, grief, and shame, along with overwhelming existential paradoxes the person was trying to avoid facing (perhaps with very good reason).

Hiding from one's pain has its advantages. If we don't acknowledge this, we won't be able to reach those who are opting not to move along the path towards "healing" for legitimate reasons. If we want to truly help those whose path towards attempting to heal may be inherently painful and complex, we need to be able to see the validity in their decision to wait until they are ready. It's difficult enough to walk this path willingly. No one should be forced onto it (unless perhaps because the dangers in remaining stuck are imminently extremely dangerous).

I waited and waited and wasted a huge part of my life in doing so. I had good reason for remaining stuck. I didn't want to implode my life and destroy those few things I was proud of having built. Then one day, it became clear to me that I could wait no longer. My resting place (hiding place) was no longer safe. I had to proceed or perish. I therefore willingly and enthusiastically embarked on a journey of "recovery." I do wish I had started the journey sooner, but, as I fumble along it, I increasingly realize how valid my earlier fears were. I wasn't being stupid. I was making the best choices I could given the dangers I faced in all directions. Maybe the choices I made and the timing of those choices weren't perfect, but I was doing the best I could given the very legitimate concerns and fears I had.

There can be genuine risks involved in the healing process. It isn't all sunshine, kittens and baby bats. Facing and addressing the damage that has accrued to our psyche/brains/bodies over time can be excruciating. To me it sometimes feels like unraveling twisted body parts after a long game of Twister gone horribly wrong. It can be exhausting, painful and dangerous, yet necessary if I'm ever going to have any hope of moving forward.

So here I am, not giving up yet, but doing a lot of soul-searching about this perilous (yet necessary) path I've committed to and what its dangers and drawbacks can teach me. I couldn't turn back now even if I wanted to. The path behind me no longer exists. Maybe there will come a time when the way forward suddenly becomes easier in ways I couldn't have predicted. Maybe something will work wonders for me and I'll exclaim, "Why did I wait so long to start on this path?" Or maybe it will continue to be painful and difficult for a long time.

My message for others who may face a complicated journey: I see you and empathize. We all have to make difficult choices. Please don't infer from the difficulty of my journey that yours will be equally difficult. Many people do describe a much simpler path towards healing. Mine is complicated by the nature of what I've been through and the type of person I am. Maybe if you try, your path will be straightforward and simple.

But if it's not, that's okay. Even if there are no easy answers, there are people who understand. You have my support and compassion even when your path towards healing seems to be going nowhere (or backwards). Even when you're scared and stuck. This stuff isn't easy and that's okay.

The path may not always be easy, but you're not alone on it.

With empathy, solidarity, and, of course, baby bats,
C



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: