I haven’t blogged since last summer…Ha! Does that mean something?? Just a little negligence…But with a little good intention and lots to say this blog will come in two parts.
Soooo, with all the pot holes and “under-construction” moments I’ve had in the past year, it’s clear the effects of childhood abuse are relentless and not completely what the therapist or any research says. It’s a game with no odds. With that said there is not only a real need for a true understanding that symptoms and effects are both tangling and expansive but also a harsh reality check that there simply lacks support. And sometimes from where its needed most: friends.
I’ve had the unique experience of having most of my current friends since oatmeal paste and color coded scissors days but that doesn’t mean we’ve always understood each other. On one hand, it must be completely unfathomable that a friend can have an experience so horrifically traumatic. However, in a thing called life the unthinkable or the unexpected is common. Friends are supposed to help you roll with punches, especially when you didn’t even start the fight.
Someone told a friend of mine it was difficult to be my friend, they didn’t like my lifestyle or life choices, that Brittni = too much drama but they could still tolerate being around me…(sigh). Besides the fact that I appropriately addressed her, the situation made me realize that friends seem to associate a great deal of angst with being a survivor’s friend. NEWS FLASH! Being a genuine friend is a hard task under any circumstances. And being a friend to someone who has survived abuse isn’t any more taxing, it just requires a person to be a different kind of friend and perhaps a better friendship–maybe not as shallow. To be quite honest, the ‘angst’ is a cop-out.
My last comment wasn’t an insensitive one. Of course it’s normal to be nervous; but only about as nervous as a friend would be if the bff said they had “some news to share”. There’s the weird deep breath, a split-second thought that maybe not answering the phone would be a good idea, but then the concern takes over. Snapped out of it, it’s time to help. Unless a person has not reported their experience and needs to be encouraged to Just Speak, the only expectation of a survivor is that their friends are willing to help. An honest “how are you” and not forgetting that the friend can and will have really bad times but the perfect cure is as simple as visiting them or doing their favorite thing is as far as the rocket science friendship goes. The therapist comes up with the intellectual babble. However, the therapist does not take the place of a friend.
There has to be someone else besides the therapist, a journal, or a relative to share that part of life. Besides, some people don’t have any of the three. If the friend has to selectively share, that sends pretty strong messages: That part of their life doesn’t fit into the “unconditional friend clause”, there’s something about their abuse that isn’t worth talking about or shouldn’t be talked about, and it furthers the feeling of being an outsider. If those aren’t signals meant to be sent then SNAP OUT OF IT, IT’S TIME TO HELP. Friends have to tackle it head-on and suck up the fear. In all honesty, one should choose to be proud of their friend’s courage and their ability to weather the storm better than most can. Otherwise, why should survivors lose out on friendships just because others don’t have the cojones to without any elaboration just be a friend?
Being a friend to a survivor or for that matter a friend to anyone, builds character and forces us as humans to dig deeper. I’m sure I’m not the only trauma survivor who has had an acquaintance or a friend dutifully proclaim they couldn’t stomach some life choice. When it’s all said and done though I embrace my life and who I’m becoming is a promising bumpy road that I’m willing to travel. And on behalf of all other survivors, we only hope that more folks will come along…
Who’s Just Speaking with Me…