I finally found it. I’ve been looking for an answer for something I’ve been experiencing for years and could never find a name. This afternoon on the Long Island Railroad I found the answer I’ve been so desperately looking for, and it turns out it’s more complicated than I thought. Today I want to talk about Secondary Traumatic Stress and Disenfranchised Trauma.
Don’t worry, this isn’t going to be a technical discussion. This is meant as a beacon for anyone who has experienced anything remotely similar to what I’m about to describe. I spent years on what felt like my own island, constantly dismissed and misunderstood, yearning to find someone who understands. I haven’t found a real person, but I’ve found people who have written about it, and that’s enough for me. Now, I want to provide others the understanding I never found. If any of this resonates with you, reach out to me. I mean it. I can’t tell you what I would have given to know that someone really understood what I was going through. Let me be that for you. Now, let’s dive in.
First, I want to talk about the phenomenon of Secondary Traumatic Stress. According to nctsn.org, its definition is as follows:
Secondary traumatic stress is the emotional duress that results when an individual hears about the firsthand trauma experiences of another.
Statistically, most of you will not resonate with this. It seems to be more of a rare occurrence and something that is essentially never talked about. Our word is an incredibly powerful thing, and given the right circumstances, it has the power to trigger a complete PTSD episode. I know this because it has happened to me, on more than one occasion. Dive a little deeper and all the classic symptoms of PTSD arise: hypervigilance, avoidance, re-experiencing, change in mood, guilt, anger, problems sleeping, challenges with concentration and exhaustion. All from something someone said.
Clinically, this is seen most in loved ones of veterans and therapists, which makes sense. Hearing about war atrocities or horrific stories of sexual abuse everyday can understandable trigger sever negative responses. But that doesn’t mean it has to be so severe. Depending on our own traumas, our worldviews, our expectations, Secondary Traumatic Stress can arise any time anyone tells us something traumatic.
Now, let’s talk about Disenfranchised Trauma. According to socialworker.com, its described as follows:
There is a trauma impact from learning of trauma that has happened to a [loved one]. When this trauma impact is unacknowledged, it can become disenfranchised. The term disenfranchised grief is defined as grief that either is not, or cannot be, openly acknowledged, socially validated, or publicly supported.
This is where it gets strangely personal. Let me tell you some of the responses I’ve received in trying to explain to people my experience:
“Get over it.”
“It’s not that bad.”
“Oh, that sucks.”
“You’re a man, suck it up.”
“This is just how all men think.”
“Just let it go.”
“I don’t understand.”
“So what?”
The list goes on. I will admit there are a few wonderful souls who took the time to hear me, even if they didn’t understand. But most of the time I was met with ridicule, confusion, dismissal and sometimes even anger. Now, the disenfranchisement of severe trauma, whether primary or secondary, is extraordinarily dangerous because it makes you start to believe you’re going crazy. It makes you start to believe that you’re the one to blame. It makes you start to believe what you’re experiencing isn’t real. It’s gaslighting on a massive scale. If you’ve been a regular reader of my Reflections, you’ll know that I’ve said some less-than-stellar things about trauma in the past, and it’s become clear to me why. In some capacity, denial of trauma in general was a way for me to deny the unacknowledged experience of my own. I felt like I was on an island, destined to be stuck there forever.
The experience of Secondary Traumatic Stress and Disenfranchised Trauma is one I would never wish even on my worst enemy. I must’ve spent upwards of 100 nights of my life lying in my bed until the early hours of the morning with brutal images constantly replaying in my head. I mean fucking brutal. I’ve been triggered an exponential amount more than that - during conversations with friends, during movies, during weddings, during workouts, during pretty much everything I’ve ever done. I’ll encounter a trigger and immediately it feels like someone is sticking a knife in my sternum. My entire body sinks and I go dark - the lights go out. Most people think it’s just me being “ditzy old me”. I’ll tell you right now, it’s not me. It’s just easier to let that be the narrative and wait until it passes than try to explain myself.
I don’t have an exact answer for how to heal all of this, as it’s all crystallized for me in the last 24 hours. I will say, it seems to have to do with exposure. Either removing the primary trauma source, or exposing yourself to it enough where the effect lessons. More to be revealed on this, and besides, I didn’t write this article to give you answers.
I wrote this article for the one or two people who read this and start crying because this is them. You are not alone. The rest of you will sympathize or not relate, and that’s okay - this isn’t meant for you. This is for those of you who have been stuck in the dark for so long that you’ve forgotten what the light looks like. I’m here for you, and I want to to hear your story. I’ll actually understand.
Message me here or on Instagram (@modern.bronze) anytime.