The trauma that I have described in previous posts can be called primary trauma. That is, the trauma that happens to the individual experiencing it.
Also as I stated already, not everyone who suffers trauma dissociates, and/or appears narcissistic. However, where trauma is linked to dissociation and narcissism, support work can be very challenging.
We, the well-meaning hard-working practitioners, feel that nothing-ever-seems-to-work as we observe behaviour that we deem to be irresponsible and often self-destructive. We come to the conclusion that the person that we are supporting will be forever emotionally dependent – constantly complaining to us but appearing to do nothing about their situation to improve it. This implies, in turn, an expectation that others (us) will fix it for them.
And on the subject of complaining, I have observed that the more people complain without doing anything for themselves – that is, change within – the more likely it is that they are narcissistic, whether vulnerable or grandiose.
If vulnerable, the complaining has a poor me I’m the victim kind of flavour and if grandiose it has a more macho kind of I’ll fix them – vindictive character to it. Or it can be a mixture of both depending on the circumstances. (If you have opinions on this I’d like to hear them).
And also, I have observed questions like ‘what do you think you can do to change things’, or, (as a practitioner) ‘what do you want from me, that is, what can I do so that things will be better for you’ (so that situations might be resolved) to be questions that appear not only to be unattractive, but even a little threatening. Very often, responses (if there are any) to such questions suggest solutions that are unrealistic and unattainable.
It is this feeling of being threatened when asked what might appear to most people to be reasonable questions that reveals the extent of the hurt, and – I think it’s fair to say – distinguishes from people who are also very hurt and traumatised, but are willing to engage with such questions.
I often wondered why. Some of the reasons that I came up with include:
1. If I am very hurt, I desperately need someone to take my pain away and a question does not do that.
2. Resolution of conflict (usually) involves intimacy, connection, forgiveness and trust, things that my rigid armour keeps out.
3. I instinctively know from experience (and/or probably bring from my childhood the belief) that the person who asks the question probably wants a solution so that they’ll have a bit of peace and won’t have to listen anymore, so that they can get on with what they are doing.
4. The question is more about alleviating the questioner’s anxiety to find a solution than the easing of my distress – I (once again intuitively) know this.
5. The question implies that the questioner wants me to start taking responsibility for my part in the solution. This I don’t trust myself to do and/or I don’t yet have the skills or confidence.
6. My default place is the hurt one and I don’t really feel that I deserve to be happy – indeed, being hurt defines my identity to a large extent. The response of it’s too late now always indicates a certain resignation to the status quo!
7. Because of the unbalanced growth of left-brain – right-brain, I may switch between either total irrationality, i.e. the instant emotional response, or, the totally logical response, whichever will gain the most immediate relief at the time.
8. I intuitively know (though am probably not consciously aware) that my situation will not be resolved in a quick-fix, linear, stepped, manner and I need to know that the practitioner is willing to be available for the long haul.
9. (Related to 8). Resolution of difficult emotional problems takes time and patience, and almost always consideration of others’ situations, whereas the narcissistic personality wants instant gratification – i.e. a quick solution that will take my pain away regardless of the consequences to others.
It is important to consider power when we are thinking of primary trauma.
Having a sense of power to, largely, determine our own destiny is important to all of us.
With good enough parenting, experimenting with and testing boundaries, and learning from significant role models we get a sense of legitimate and/or appropriate power over many years of growth. These years stretch from the terrible threes through the teenage tears and tantrums and finally to mature adulthood.
If our parenting has not been good enough we may get stuck in the irresponsible years of childhood or youth and often engage in behaviour that is typical of that period of someone’s life. That is, oppositional, anti-authoritarian, possibly addictive or compulsive, blaming of others, and ultimately self-destructive.
Here are some possibilities, in respect of power, as to why, if I am very hurt, I might not respond that well to direct suggestions, assertiveness, pointed questions etc.
1. My power may reside in the not resolving and if the situation was resolved I may lose this. Or I may be fearful that the person who is assisting me in the resolution of the problem might challenge me. (Sure – isn’t that sorted now)?
2. I believe in one-way knowledge flow – but it flows from me (the person complaining) to the person who is trying to help – a kind of harmful too much knowledge (nearly always head-knowledge, by the way) or know-all situation where I believe that knowledge is power – which it is – but it’s not a healthy sense of power, and it’s a barrier to reflective awareness.
3. I, who am very hurt, may believe that the reason for my distress is a decision (or decisions) made by the person/people that are the subject of my complaining and I don’t have a sense of power to do anything about my own situation. That is, I’m not willing, ready or able to be the change.
4. My sense of my own power might be based on very fundamental beliefs and I am completely closed to any different way of thinking. (These could be societal, religious, political beliefs etc.)
Through all the above, rather than we, the practitioners, seeing the attitude of the very hurt person as resistant to change, it might be more helpful if we acknowledge that he is choosing to carry his burden.
He simply needs assistance in carrying it – now – and that’s all, and to unburden would be a greater task than the continual carrying.
But we need to believe that it might not always be like that!
In the next Chapter I will describe Modalities (ways of working) that have a good chance of allowing our root foundations work at their own pace, and making it easier for someone to unburden himself of the pain and hurt that he has carried, probably for such a long time that he feels it defines him.