Self-forgiveness is essential to self-healing.
—RUTH CARTER STAPLETON
Part A. Forgive Your Limitations
For some of you, the key to trauma recovery will be most concerned with reconciling feelings of guilt or shame that have lingered following your trauma. In general, particularly with trauma, shame and forgiveness are often linked. For that reason, I will address them as aspects of this same key: “Forgive Your Limitations” is Key 5A, and “Share Your Shame” is Key 5B.
Most of the self-help books that address forgiveness focus on forgiving others. In this chapter, however, I would like to pay attention to a somewhat neglected aspect of forgiveness that is particularly relevant for trauma survivors: self-forgiveness. Is it difficult for you to forgive yourself for your trauma? If so, you are not alone.
You may remember the January 2009 plane crash that came to be known as “the Miracle on the Hudson.” Pilot Chesley “Sully” Sullenberger managed to safely water ditch an Airbus 320 only minutes into the flight; it had lost both engines due to a bird strike during takeoff. Every one of the 155 passengers and crew survived, with only 2 seriously injured—truly a miracle. In his first television interview following this incident that made him a famous hero, Captain Sullenberger confessed to 60 Minutes’ Katie Couric, “One of the hardest things for me to do in this whole experience was to forgive myself for not having done something else, something better, something more complete.”
Sullenberger’s candor actually stunned me. His admission underscored how self-forgiveness is a critical and universal issue in trauma recovery. If anyone ever qualified to skip the forgiveness issue, this man—who saved every single life on his crippled airplane and, moreover, has the undying gratitude of hundreds of passengers’ loved ones, plus the admiration of his colleagues and perhaps most of the world—should be at the top of the list. All the same, self-forgiveness was something he, too, struggled with.
As with Captain Sully, forgiving yourself could be difficult and deserves to be high on your recovery to-do list. Given that you live with and depend on yourself 24/7, having a peaceful inner relationship can make your life and recovery easier. No matter how rationally you may see your culpability, being angry or disappointed with yourself for not being able to prevent or stop trauma is common. There may be legitimate cause for your self-anger. It may be that you actually could have done one or more things that would have kept you or another out of harm’s way. It could also be the case that there was nothing you could have done, that the full responsibility lies with someone else or chance. In most cases, though, the truth is somewhere in between. Here are a few examples:
Allocating responsibility can be a delicate matter. Some people take on much that is not theirs; others abdicate any and all. However, striking an honest balance is important. For one thing, it is sane-making. Second, it can help you to better protect yourself, and perhaps your loved ones, in the future. For R, realizing how she could have been a more savvy foreign visitor helped her to advise her daughters when they were old enough to travel with friends.
Understandably, forgiveness is a large topic involving people, circumstances, and for some, the spiritual realm. It is not possible to address all of these facets within the confines of this chapter. Through the pages that follow, the discussion will cover the most universal aspect of trauma-related forgiveness, self-forgiveness for:
This chapter will help you to identify what was and what was not your responsibility and in your control. The next chapter, Key 5B, will help you to understand, accept, and resolve any shame that has resulted from trauma, which often goes hand in hand with self-forgiveness. Which one you tackle first will be up to your unique circumstances. It may be necessary to forgive yourself before you can resolve your shame. Alternatively, it could be your shame that needs to be addressed prior to self-forgiveness. You might use your mindful gauge to decide which to prioritize.
Please note: It will likely be the fewest readers of this book who have actually caused trauma, either by direct intent (e.g., perpetrating on another) or through disregard for the safety of others (e.g., causing injury to others while behaving recklessly or under the influence of drugs or alcohol). If you fall into this category, facing up to regret and reparation will be necessary prerequisites to self-forgiveness.
The Issue
One fact of trauma is that it is out of your control. Everyone who has suffered trauma has issues about control because trauma does not happen when you have it—when you can stop the car, fend off the attacker, defuse the bomb, and so on. If you are recovering from trauma, you also were unable to stop whatever it was that happened. There may be one reason you could not prevent your trauma or there might be several. Here are some (but not all) possibilities:
This is not a complete list. The reason you were unable to prevent your trauma may not be here. Feel free to add to this list.
Helen is a good example of someone who should be able to justify many reasons why her trauma was not her fault. Nonetheless, she really suffered under the weight of guilt for being caught in the Indian Ocean tsunami in December 2004. She had arranged the vacation that eventually put her family at risk. Luckily, they all survived. Even so, she felt culpable for bringing her family there and for their distress. It had been particularly difficult for her youngest daughter, who still had nightmares a year later. Helen, as well as thousands of others who were caught in that disaster, met the criteria for several of the categories above: unpreventable act of nature, no warning, wrong place at the wrong time, and not getting enough help.
Understanding that what had happened was not Helen’s fault was clear for her friends, and even her family; however, she had a very tough time letting herself off the hook. It was actually her teenage son who finally tipped the balance for her. One evening he became very irritated with her persistent guilty apologies and barked at her, “Stop it, Mom! Who do you think you are, God? Only God knew that was going to happen. IT WAS NOT YOUR FAULT!” Whether it was his words, his timing, or something else, finally the message got through. At first she was angered by his attitude, but then she laughed. As she took in his words, she sat down and cried.
When I next saw her, she was smiling, remembering her son’s anger and how much his outburst had helped her. “He’s right, you know,” she told me. “That was sort of arrogant to think I should be able to predict nature. It really wasn’t my fault! I’m sleeping better now, and so is my daughter.” It seemed that once Helen could let go of her guilt, her daughter also improved.
The sudden change in Helen might sound like a miracle cure because it seems to have happened in a few short minutes. However, her release from guilt and subsequent self-forgiveness was actually the result of a combination of factors, including her work with a number of recovery strategies (several in this book). Her persistent efforts, the support of her family and friends, and her son’s lucky timing all culminated to push her over the hump that had been holding her back. Recovery from trauma takes time, but sometimes, as with Helen, the facets can suddenly gel, making it look like recovery was instantaneous, even though it may actually have been in process gradually over time.
Apply a Little Theory
As if experiencing trauma were not enough, many trauma survivors suffer further with regret for how they did or did not react. They may feel responsible for “going dead,” becoming paralyzed, not fighting back or running away. Familiarity with the basic neurobiology of the trauma response often helps understanding of such responses, contributing to relief from self-directed anger, shame, and guilt.
Survival—keeping us alive in our environment—is mediated by the limbic system in the midbrain. The amygdala and hippocampus are both part of the limbic system’s survival team, the amygdala being particularly relevant for this discussion. Before reading on, you might want to review the earlier discussions of these structures on pages 30–32.
The amygdala determines what is or is not a threat following its perception of information from the external senses (see Key 4): A touch or something seen, heard, or smelled. That sensory information is first quickly relayed to the amygdala for evaluation: “Is this desirable, benign, or dangerous?” If it is life-threatening, the amygdala can direct the body to respond with any of three options: flight, fight, or freeze.
There is a myriad of information upon which the amygdala bases its decision, including the following:
Remember, all of this happens very quickly and—critical to note—not in the cortex, the seat of thought, reflection, and contemplation in the brain. The amygdala’s survival response is set in motion outside our awareness. It is processing data, coming to a conclusion, and directing action totally without conscious deliberation. It makes its decision and tells the body to run, to attack, or to play dead, sending its directive through the nervous system to the muscles and other body systems. The amygdala sends its order via stress hormones, that is, without the benefit (or interference) of the cortical tools of logic, reason, or even common sense. It is the job of the amygdala to bypass thinking so it can make a swift determination of the situation and cause the body to react—almost immediately—in the best interests of survival.
So when faced with a threat, your nervous system is designed to make an extremely quick decision, which is a great advantage. Think about the consequences if that was not possible, if you had to go through the laborious process of consciously deciding what to do or how to respond. You would have to think clearly about what was happening, identify your options for survival, and then weigh the possible outcomes—all before you could react. By the time you came to any kind of conclusion, it is likely that the threat would have gotten to you without a chance for any kind of survival action. It is actually fantastic that we are unable to decide consciously to escape, battle, or collapse. The amygdala’s quick action saves many, many lives. However, there may be consequences to contend with.
Josh’s Freeze
Forty-year-old Josh grew up in a liberal community. He knew he was gay from the time of his first crush, when he was about 11. It was never an issue for his family or friends. He was loved and supported and had been in a committed relationship for 8 years. On weekends together with friends, he would enjoy the gay scene in a trendy part of the city. Sometimes things would get a little rowdy, but incidents were minor. Then one day, he was taken completely by surprise—as is so typical with trauma—and his life changed.
Josh, his partner, and two of their friends became victims of a hate crime, attacked as they were returning to their car after an evening on the town. They were harassed and beaten by a gang of self-described antigay vigilantes. Luckily, a neighbor by the parking lot heard the clash and called the police. They arrived in time to arrest the attackers and save Josh and his friends from permanent physical harm. But the police were not able to prevent severe emotional damage, particularly to Josh.
Of the four, Josh fared the worst psychologically. He was not a physical kind of guy and had never studied any kind of self-defense system. While his friends were, to some extent, able to fight back, Josh collapsed in a typical freeze reaction. In the days, weeks, and months following the attack, he sank deeper and deeper into depression.
On the surface, it could be easy to assume that Josh’s troubles stemmed from some deep identity conflict that was released by the attack. Another assumption might be that he was emotionally hurt by the verbal abuse of the attackers or angry at the injustice. But none of these were at the core of Josh’s difficulties. The truth of the matter was that Josh was deeply ashamed. His humiliation was not due to what was done to him, but because he was not able to fight back. He felt that the beatings he and his friends received were his fault, that he should have been able to stop the attackers, to protect his partner and his friends. There is no dispute that the attack was shameful. Hate crimes are just plain wrong. So why was Josh placing the weight of responsibility on himself?
Discovering the Key
Josh had never known about the freeze response. He just assumed he had been a coward. The realization that a part of his unconscious brain had made the decision for him was a huge relief. It was also helpful for him to learn that the limbic system could be updated with new information and body experiences. For example, learning defensive moves or increasing aerobic endurance could improve the chance of the amygdala choosing flight or fight in the future (though it is never a guarantee—even self-defense experts can still freeze if the amygdala perceives that is the best strategy). He resolved to get in better physical shape and take a self-defense class or two. Though he hoped never to be attacked again, he wanted to be able to use his fight reflex should he ever need it in the future. His new knowledge and resolve helped relieve his depression. But he still had to face himself and forgive the reaction he did have.
The technique that proved most useful for Josh involved envisioning that the exact same attack had happened to another group of friends. I suggested that Josh imagine one of his best friends in his own circumstances, feeling guilty and ashamed for not fighting back. What would he say to the friend? Would he judge or condemn him as he had himself? Or would he be more likely to support him? What would he say to his friend?
At first Josh thought that the exercise was a bit absurd. Of course he would never criticize or malign a friend who had been attacked like that. The real challenge came when I asked why on earth, if he would not criticize a friend like that, he would criticize himself. That brought him up short to realize how much harder he was on himself than he ever would be on anyone else. Josh prided himself on fairness and was distressed to grasp how unfair he was being with himself. That realization greatly facilitated his self-forgiveness, making it possible for him to get back to his normal life.
Applications for You
Many of you will be able to identify with Josh’s dilemma, as you will also have gone into a freeze response (dissociation, collapse, numbing, paralysis, deadness) during the incident that threatened your life or limb. Sometimes it is difficult for people to understand that this is really a survival response because they see it as giving up. However, freezing has many functions that protect you.
First of all, when you freeze, your attacker may lose interest. In the animal kingdom, most predators have instincts to avoid dead meat. So when their prey drops, freezing and appearing dead, the predator will often walk away—that is, unless it is very, very hungry and willing to risk bacteria or food poisoning. Among humans, many an attacker will back off if there is no energy coming from the victim. If a victim no longer engages them, many perpetrators will just go away. (Actually, Josh was the least injured of the four as the attackers focused on the three who were defending themselves.) Typically, in a freeze state, time slows down and some people have reported this actually made conscious strategizing possible (though that is not always the case). Finally, people who have survived mauling by an animal tell of a dampening of physical pain and emotional horror in the state of freeze. The dulling of the experience helped them to endure and also suppressed their fear of death. So freezing is a very important and useful reaction. It is good that we are able to freeze. It is not in any way the same as giving up or voluntarily submitting (though there are circumstances where it could be wise to do so). Freezing protects you. When you freeze, the amygdala is doing its job just as it should. But of course sometimes, as in Josh’s case, that can be difficult to accept.
Is self-forgiveness of your limitations one of your recovery tasks? If so, are you ready for this step? As with most things in life, timing is important. Pushing you toward that goal prematurely could backfire. The main prerequisite for self-forgiveness of limitations is an openness to the possibility that you may not have had a choice in how you reacted during your trauma. If you can entertain that concept, then the exercises below may prove useful for you. However, if that idea is beyond your comprehension at this time, wait before attempting them. You can return to them at any time.
Exercise 1: Learn the Theory
The task of forgiving trauma response limitations—not being able to escape or fight back—is one that is often helped by a thorough understanding of the neurobiology; it is difficult to argue with science. This is also an issue socially and in the legal system, which compounds the problem for trauma survivors. Society in general and the law in particular have been slow to recognize the legitimacy of the freeze response, particularly that it is not—in any way—the same as consent. Throughout the 1980s and 1990s, trauma specialists and researchers in the United States and other parts of the world worked diligently to educate lawyers and judges to identify freezing as a nonvoluntary physiological consequence of threat (e.g., in assault or rape). At the time of this writing, most legal systems now recognize that when victims have not fought back it in no way implies they were willing. So, if the court system can accept this as fact, hopefully that will help you to also.
Reread the theory section of this chapter, perhaps writing a summary in your own words. As you better understand the freeze mechanism, it will be easier for you to accept and forgive such responses in yourself.
Exercise 2: In Someone Else’s Shoes
Similar to what Josh did above, consider how you would feel if your best friend or someone else you love were in your same situation, the one you are having trouble forgiving yourself for. Would you hold him or her responsible? If not, what makes the difference between you? How could you direct your compassion for your friend toward yourself? Create a conversation (in your mind or by writing it down) between you and that friend. What would you say to him or her about guilt and about self-forgiveness? Can you say similar things to yourself?
If you would hold your friend responsible, what would you consider a fair reparation? Would that also be acceptable for you?
Exercise 3: Talk With Others
It could be helpful as well as supportive to talk with one or more trusted friends or family members about their own experiences with self-forgiveness. You could also discuss how they might feel were they in your shoes. Would it be difficult or easy to forgive themselves? Why or why not?
Evaluate this Key
Is self-forgiveness an issue for you? There is no reason to make it an issue, if it is not. Inclusion of this chapter does not mean that everyone will have something to forgive themselves for. You can use your mindful gauge and common sense to help guide you to determine if and when to address self-forgiveness.
Plan How to (or Not to) Use This Key
In general, being kind toward and forgiving of our human limitations is beneficial, though of course it is important to learn from mistakes and admit failings. But I find most people are harder on themselves than they need to be. How can you make the most of this key in your life? If you meditate or say prayers, perhaps you could add something about self-forgiveness to your practice.
Endnote
Though not specifically addressed in this chapter, there are certainly additional consequences of trauma that could impact your relationship to yourself. You may have other or additional reasons to take a look at self-forgiveness. You may be holding yourself responsible or condemning yourself for these things:
If so, achieving self-forgiveness in those areas will also help your recovery.
Another area in need of self-forgiveness may be your patience with yourself and the pace of your recovery. If you are not healing “fast enough,” anger at yourself will just worsen the situation. Recovery takes the time it takes. Attempting to hurry it often actually slows it down.
We need to realize shame can have great value, as long as we are not overwhelmed by it.
Everyone needs a sense of shame, but no one needs to feel ashamed.
Part B. Share Your Shame
Shame is a major concern for many survivors of trauma. It is awful to experience. No one likes feeling ashamed. Nevertheless, believe it or not, shame is just like all of our other emotions and feelings—it is necessary for our survival. This section (5B) goes hand in hand with the previous one (5A) as shame and self-forgiveness are often (but not always) interlinked. At times it is self-forgiveness that must be achieved before shame can be relieved; at other times resolution of shame is the prerequisite to self-forgiveness. Together these two sections constitute Key 5.
Quite simply, our shame tells us—deeply—that something is amiss. Without that important knowledge, we would have little opportunity to avoid, change, or repair whatever is wrong. Many who have experienced trauma grapple with feelings of shame connected to it. For some, resolving shame is the most difficult aspect of trauma recovery. In these next pages, I will make a case for the central role shame plays in human evolution and help you to identify the role it played (or plays) in your trauma survival and recovery.
With most things, any kind of extremes are not usually helpful. Shame is no different in that regard: It is neither good to have too much nor too little shame. You might be surprised that I would consider the absence of shame to be a disadvantage. However, a good many of you reading this book have actually suffered the harmful consequences that can result from someone who lacks shame—most violent and sexual offenders are apt examples of just that. In fact, I would argue, shamelessness is a much worse problem in society as a whole than shame itself.
The Issue
Shame is widespread in the wake of trauma. Often it has to do with an inner feeling of letting oneself down, not being able to protect the self. Such a feeling of shame can result from any type of traumatic incident. More specifically, assault, rape, sexual molestation, and incest are the traumas most prone to a debilitating level of shame in the survivor. A major difficulty in dealing with shame is the withdrawal it evokes. Universally, when feeling shame, the tendency is to withdraw. I am reminded of a dinner with European friends a few years ago. I sat with the family of five, including three children aged 3, 4, and 7. Suddenly the 4-year-old snatched an attractive morsel from the plate of the 3-year-old—who, of course, began to cry. The parents reacted with verbal shock. Though it was a language I did not speak, I could distinctly hear the disapproval in their voices and see it in their faces. The 4-year-old blushed deeply, dropped her head, and proceeded to wrap herself up in the nearby window curtains. It was a while before she emerged again and tentatively finished her meal while evading contact with the rest of us. Luckily her parents were savvy and made the effort to reestablish contact with her after dinner. The incident underscored several aspects of shame for me:
You may have noticed in yourself or observed in someone else that it is common when ashamed to duck the head and avoid eye contact. Physical withdrawal such as leaving the room or situation is also quite normal with shame. Though natural, this tendency to seclusion when feeling ashamed is often unfortunate. The consequences of trauma are frequently isolating in themselves. Adding shame to the mix can leave the survivor feeling (and even being) very, very alone.
Two Cases
Eileen
It would be an understatement to call the family Eileen grew up in dysfunctional. Her tyrannical father controlled his wife and four children in every aspect of their lives. He moved them to a remote rural area and demanded that his wife homeschool the children. Frequently he would fly into rages and take out his anger in a physical way. As his favorite, Eileen was spared beatings but singled out for sex throughout her teen years. She was given special privileges including small gifts and a room of her own. In addition, he never hit her. Eileen’s feelings of shame festered and multiplied over the years: for not being able to protect herself, her mother, and her siblings; for submitting to incest; for never being beaten.
Eileen had tried many types of therapy. She had been through her history and specific incidents over and over again. Though much of the therapy had been helpful, she continued to be haunted by intense feelings of shame. “I am a terrible person,” she told me with bowed head when I first met her.
Remember, shame is like every other emotion; it has a survival function. This is no less true in the case of an incest survivor such as Eileen. Shame is like a beacon, pointing out that what happened was terribly, terribly wrong. One of the difficulties, however, especially with sexual abuse, is that innocent victims almost universally feel like the beacon is shining on them, that it is they who are wrong. I believe that has something to do with the nature of sexual abuse. Molestation, incest, and rape are not perpetrated by people who are feeling shame themselves. An active feeling of shame would stop a potential abuser before he could act—that is a major function of the emotion. Since Eileen’s father felt no shame, Eileen—in a sense—ended up feeling it for him. Truly—at least in part—his shamelessness caused her shame.
Max
By the turn of the 21st century, Vietnam veteran Max was—he believed—well adjusted to civilian life. However, he continued to react to reminders of his combat experiences. Notably, witnessing war on television news, documentaries, or films could cause his hands to shake and tears to flow. One recent evening while dining with friends, a passenger jet flew low and loud over the house. All of a sudden, Max found himself under the table. He had taken the posture of a marine diving for cover into a bunker. His friends later told him that he had been “wild-eyed” and “senseless” for about 2 minutes.
Max remembered few details of the episode. Nonetheless, he was left with a deep feeling of shame. “After all of these years, you would think I would know better!” he accused himself. For many months he declined all invitations. He was afraid of the same thing happening again. His shame intruded on his friendships and social life, isolating him as it does so many trauma survivors. Eventually, it drove him to seek help.
Also, in Max’s case the shame was telling him that something was wrong. In this case it was his circumstances that were amiss. Max was suffering from PTSD, and though he had been able to put much of it aside (at least temporarily), he had not really gotten the help that he needed to permanently leave his war experiences behind. The town he lived in had few services for traumatized veterans, and his military friends often scoffed at comrades who were candid about their PTSD. Max had, in essence, gone underground with his suffering and was ashamed that he had been exposed at the dinner. It is a widespread dilemma with military trauma that it is just not yet acceptable for soldiers to be emotionally affected by their service. Many military personnel who have PTSD feel shame for what they perceive (and often is regarded) as a weakness. It is my hope that this book and my other publications are making a significant contribution to normalizing this condition.
Apply a Little Theory
There are two main topics for this theory section. The first part concerns shame specifically. The second part focuses on how military and society views on PTSD exacerbate shame in those afflicted.
The Specifics of Shame
It is now fairly well recognized by anthropologists, psychologists, and sociologists that shame has (and has had) a necessary role in the evolution of any culture or society. Among other things, shame shapes socialization, guiding our behavior to make us accepted members of our families, neighborhoods, and cultures. Shame is necessary to help the “tribe” to survive. The shame of incest is a good example. Most people (except the shameless, of course) have a deep-seated feeling of shame even at the thought of—let alone attempt at—incest. This is extremely advantageous. It ultimately prevents rampant inbreeding which, because of damage to the gene pool, could eventually weaken or even extinguish a lineage or cultural group.
Essentially, shame is an indicator that a behavior or state of affairs is just plain wrong. That was certainly the case for both Eileen and Max. His shame was telling him that he was still suffering from the war, something he had been trying to deny for a long time. In Eileen’s situation, just about everything was wrong: how she was treated, how her mother and siblings were treated, the violence, the incest, and so on. In both instances, it was the weight of their shame that motivated them to seek help.
Despite its survival value, most would agree that shame remains the most difficult of the emotions to resolve. It is unlike other feelings. When you are sad, you can often find relief in crying. Anger might ease with verbal expression or physical activity. Fear releases in shaking or with comfort and safety. But shame—what do you do with shame? It does not seem to release in the same way other emotions do. Though all feelings are managed better in supportive contact with others, resolution of shame seems to call for it. Rather than discharging (as, for example, crying or yelling), shame dissipates, when it is understood or acknowledged by a supportive other. More than any other feeling, I find that shame needs contact to diminish. This makes a certain amount of sense, as shame is a highly social emotion. If humans lived each in isolation, it is not so likely we would feel shame. It requires the presence of others to make its impact. So then it seems reasonable that interaction would be a necessary component for healing shame.
Accepting PTSD
The term posttraumatic stress disorder is made up of several concepts, the core of which is stress. Simply put, stress is the body’s response to any demand, good or bad—it is easy to forget that fun or exciting activities and challenges can also exert stress on the body. There are lesser and greater degrees of stress. The demands of trauma cause the most extreme stress responses.
Traumatic stress results from a threat to life or limb. This includes accidents, war, physical injury, natural disasters, assault, rape, and sexual abuse. It is actually a desirable response, at least initially. It is traumatic stress that makes it possible for your body to flee, fight, or freeze. As discussed in the previous section on forgiveness, the amygdala in the limbic system quickly evaluates a situation and directs the necessary somatic response via stress hormones. These reactions ensure protection or escape when that is possible. When neither of those are options, then it directs the body to freeze, dampening the impact of whatever is to come. Traumatic stress—with its rush of adrenaline—is the protection nature provides to help us survive trauma.
However, the traumatic stress response is intended to be short-lived, lasting just long enough to get us through. Once the incident is over, the body is meant to return to a balanced state. However, sometimes the limbic system’s other key structure, the hippocampus (see Key 1), becomes so overwhelmed by stress hormones that it is unable to perceive the cessation of the traumatic incident. When that happens, the amygdala continues to direct the release of stress hormones as if the trauma repeats or persists, causing the same stress reactions to go on and on and on. That is really the crux of PTSD. As discussed in the case of Josh in Key 5A, no one gets to choose how much stress hormone is released during trauma or whether or not their hippocampi (we have two, one on each side of the brain) function well or become suppressed.
Unfortunately, as of this writing, we do not yet have definitive information on the factors that distinguish those who develop PTSD from those who do not, though this is an area of continuing study. Major candidates include attachment styles, previous exposure to trauma, stress preparation, contact, and support.
The point is, it is not your fault if you have PTSD. It is not Max’s fault. It occurs in about 20–25% of the population who experience trauma. Hopefully the keys in this book as well as other books and therapies you have used or will use will greatly help your recovery. Liberal amounts of self-acceptance, support, and patience are also important ingredients.
Discovering the Keys
For Eileen, there were several steps involved in dealing with the depth of her shame. The first was to understand that the feeling of shame was absolutely sensible: What her father had done was 100% wrong. Considering that her shame had, in part, been confirming the wrong that had been done to her was a new idea to digest. Though at first it was somewhat confusing, the concept gradually made sense to her. The realization helped Eileen move “the beacon” to illuminate what should have been her father’s shame, his shameful acts.
Her next task involved specifically distinguishing or separating the shame she felt about herself from the shame of his acts. One of the strategies she used was fairly simple. Dividing a sheet of paper into two columns, she labeled one for herself and one for her father. Under each heading, she listed the shameful acts of each. Her father’s list was very long. When it came to her own list, though, she balked. She could only identify things that were directly related to what her father had done to her or others in the family, such as “giving in to his advances” or “not protecting my brother.” She was a bit stunned to see, in black and white, that her shame was completely tied to his shameless acts. Increasingly it sank in that she was not the terrible person she had always believed herself to be, but a legitimately innocent victim. That realization made it possible for her to draft a letter to her father clarifying in her own mind and feelings what had been his responsibility and, therefore, his shame. We discussed the advisability of actually sending such a letter. She decided not to, concluding that her father was not going to “see the light” and acknowledge his wrongdoing. Writing the letter had been satisfying in itself. She felt as if she had, in essence, delivered his shame back to him.
The final step Eileen took in resolving her shame was to confide in a trusted friend. After securing the friend’s willingness, Eileen outlined (but did not detail—no reason to risk trauma to the friend) the extent of her father’s abuse and how he had used her. The friend’s horror at what he had done was helpful to Eileen in reinforcing her own innocent position. Sharing her shame with that accepting and caring friend added to the healing process considerably. It was a significant stride toward Eileen’s eventual relief from the weight of her shame.
For Max, it was the isolation his shame inflicted upon him that was doing the most damage. Getting him to talk with family and friends was helpful. However, sharing his experiences then and now with other soldiers turned out to be the most healing for him. It was not easy for Max to approach the Department of Veterans Affairs (VA) initially. His shame was nearly paralyzing, and was compounded by his assumption that he would be scoffed at and further shamed for his PTSD. With the support of his older brother, he found his way to the social work office at the nearest VA. A caseworker there assured him that he was not alone, that there were many other vets struggling with the same issues.
Through the social work department Max was referred to a support group. He had to drive to the nearest city to meet with a group of Vietnam veterans, but it turned out to be well worth that extra time. Up until then he had avoided other vets for fear that they would judge him a coward. But in the support group he joined, he found quite the contrary. Not only were they very accepting of his difficulties, many of them had suffered similar problems; he was not at all alone in his reactions. Lots of the other guys had had at least one similar experience of plunging for protective cover as if they were under attack from the enemy—triggered by a passing plane, a car backfiring, thunder, an earthquake, and such. Many of them also reacted to news reports and films that highlighted war. When Max realized that all these years his most humiliating, fear-driven, and isolating behaviors were quite common among his comrades, his shame eased considerably. Periodic guest speakers were one of the features of the support group. Max found the lecture on the physiology of PTSD to be particularly helpful in normalizing his condition. He still was not happy to have PTSD, but the shame about it was rapidly dissipating.
Eventually, Max became an activist. Though he acknowledged that the military had come a long way in recognizing PTSD as a service-related injury, he felt they still had a distance to go. Max did some research and learned that what we now call PTSD used to be regarded in the military as cowardice. Not that long ago, a soldier could even be shot for symptoms of PTSD. So there had been progress. On the other hand, PTSD had yet to be taken as seriously as other debilitating injuries. He joined the movement to qualify combat PTSD for award of the Purple Heart. Even the fact that there was such a cause helped him to better accept his own circumstances. The fact that others recognized a soldier’s psychological wounds as deserving the same honor as physical wounds meant a lot to him. At this writing their cause is still pending as Max and others continue to press the military to recognize that not only are war wounds not shameful, they are all honorable, whether or not they can be seen.
Applications for You
It is at this point that I most regret that this is a book and that I cannot speak with you in person. That is because I very much believe in the power of human contact for healing and easing deep feelings of shame. So consider if there is one or more people you could possibly broach the subject with. A good question to start with is: Have you ever felt ashamed? If you first find out the other person has had a similar feeling of shame, it might pave the way for you to reveal your own.
However, before you approach anyone about your shame, please pay attention to this important caveat: It is not a good idea to dive right into a discussion or confession of shame. There is a danger you could feel even more ashamed if you have not carefully paved the way. You could suddenly find out your friend on the other end of the phone line has no time to talk with you right then—perhaps she is in the middle of a meeting or one of her kids requires immediate assistance. Or the friend you meet for lunch could have too much on his mind to give you the attention you need.
I confess to learning this the hard way. There is one particular situation that stands out. It was a hard lesson, but it taught me to take more care when approaching friends with difficult personal topics—ones difficult for me to talk about or for them to hear. That evening I was upset (though I do not remember why now) and the pressure in me to vent was strong. I met a friend for dinner. We had barely sat down when I blurted out my troubles, spilling them onto the table between us. I ranted on for about 5 minutes before realizing my friend was teary-eyed, staring slightly past my head. There was no contact there. The emotions that coursed through me simultaneously were strong. I was embarrassed not to have noticed my friend’s state. Part of me felt ignored and I was angry. Then sadness filled me as I felt more alone than I had before attempting to say anything. It was a horrible feeling to so misjudge the situation. I finally pulled myself together to ask my friend what was wrong. It turned out he had just received very, very bad news and was more in need of my support than I was of his. I very much wished that I could turn back the clock so I could notice his distress right away and ask, “How are you?” before going on about me. It was after that evening that I vowed to always ask someone, “Is this a good time?” “Do you have a half hour now?” or some such before launching into anything that is precious to me. Actually, it is a good idea anytime and I have had more than one friend and colleague express appreciation for my consideration in asking. If the other person does not have time right then, ask them to make a date to meet or to call later.
It can be further helpful, once the other has assured you that the timing is good, to preface anything that could be potentially upsetting for them to hear, to give them the option to opt out. For example, on the topic of this key, you could say, “Would it be okay to talk with you about shame? It is something I’m grappling with and wonder if you ever have,” or something like that. That way they are alerted to what they are signing on for. Some would criticize this idea as taking too much responsibility for the other person. I have a different way to look at it, though. I believe that by checking out the situation first I am actually taking very good care of me, bettering my chances to be heard. It helps me to ensure that when I finally share something that is very precious or difficult for me, the other person will be prepared to listen and stay in contact with me. You might try this idea with one or more friends and see if it is also useful for you.
This would also be a good situation for applying your mindful gauge (Key 1). First imagine talking with a selection of friends or family and see how your gauge reacts. You can decide who to talk with first, second, and so forth based on your gauge indicators.
Is This a Good Time for Addressing Your Shame?
Pay attention to timing. That is an important factor in many strategies and interventions, but particularly critical when dealing with shame. It would not be a good idea to push yourself prematurely into delving into shame. Use your mindful gauge to help you plan when a good time might be for dealing with one or another aspect of your shame. For some it will be best to approach shame toward the beginning of recovery; for others it should be a final stage. For you it may be somewhere in between. As with most every other aspect of recovery, timing for dealing with shame is individual. Just do not try to tackle it all at once. Here is a partial list of things you might consider before addressing your shame issues:
Exercise 1: The Value of Shame
Identify at least three positive functions for your feelings of shame in regard to your trauma. How has it alerted you to something being wrong? Has it helped to stop you from passing on harm to another? Perhaps it has made it possible for you to fit in better with your network or family. Add your discoveries into the material you will share with another. Do not be discouraged if nothing comes to mind. You can return to this exercise at a later date.
Exercise 2: Apportion Your Shame Fairly
Consider if, as in Eileen’s case, there is someone else who should be bearing shame in your stead. Is it possible you have taken theirs on yourself? How can you (figuratively) assign their shame back to them, or at least relieve yourself of it? Use your mindful gauge to imagine scenarios or methods. Perhaps you will write a letter or poem, draw or paint a picture, or create a dialogue as if for a play. Whatever you do, keep in mind that the goal is to separate the other’s shame from any that may legitimately be your own.
Exercise 3: Sharing Shame
Make a list of the things you are feeling ashamed of. Then organize your list, placing the ones that are the most difficult for you to face at the bottom and the ones that are least difficult (though of course none are easy) at the top. Choose one trusted friend or family member to tell about the least difficult shame. Starting there can build confidence and reduce overwhelm. Use the guidelines in the section Applications for You above to help you find the best person to talk with. Based on the result of your first trial, you can decide if you want to share more with that person or talk with another.
Evaluate This Key
The same guidelines apply for this key as for all the others. Is utilizing this key for you? What do your mindful gauge and common sense tell you?
Plan How to (or Not to) Use This Key
Has this key changed your relationship to your shame or to how you regard shame in general? How will such a shift in your thinking affect your perception of shame in yourself and others? Consider if there is any change and, if so, whether (or how) that will be useful as you go forward with your life. Are there any ways in which you can be alert for future encounters with shame in yourself, your family, or your friends?