CHAPTER 5
Self-Care III: Declaring a “Toxic-Free” Zone
A wise elder told his grandson, “I feel as if I have two wolves fighting in my heart. One wolf is angry, vengeful, violent, arrogant, and resentful, filled with self-pity, false pride, lies, greed, hate, and regret. The other wolf is loving, compassionate, and generous, filled with humility, truth, joy, hope, and peace. The same fight is going on in you—and in every other person too.”
The grandson thought for a moment, then asked, “Which wolf will win?”
The grandfather answered, “The one you feed.”
—NATIVE AMERICAN STORY
SOMETIMES IT IS THE WISE GRANDPARENT who teaches the lessons of balance and boundaries. Author Robert Fulghum writes that we learn how to live and what to do in kindergarten, where we are taught to play fair, share, take naps, hold hands, and stick together. I continue to learn from my daughter and son-in-law, who have established a haven of love and respect for their little family and all who visit them.
On their wall is posted the rules of the household that all four of them consistently follow: “Listen the first time. Use your hands and words respectfully. No hitting or talking back. Clean up when it’s time.” When one of their twin toddlers gets angry or acts up, they never shout at them to stop. Instead, they empathize, saying something like, “I know you like to go outside and play with your trucks. That’s a fun thing to do, but it’s time for lunch, then naptime.” And if misbehavior warrants a timeout, they always conclude it by making sure the child understands the reason for being disciplined.
At their house and in their relationships, feelings are not ignored; they’re respected and dealt with when they arise. Michael and I are not let off the hook if we make a thinly veiled remark to Jessica or her husband that hints at displeasure, anger, or judgment. “You sound a little angry,” “You look a little disgusted,” Jessica or our son-in-law might note in one of our phone or in-person conversations. “Do you disapprove or disagree with what I said or did?” While it’s often uncomfortable and requires a certain amount of emotional energy to have to clarify an action or reaction (especially when I am a little miffed about something), this practice of theirs defuses tension and prevents annoyances from growing into major grievances.
When a loved one suffers from a traumatic experience, raw and painful feelings—theirs and ours—rush to the surface or are buried deep. So many post-traumatic feelings like grief, hate, guilt, fear, hopelessness, helplessness, and shame, mutate into anger. Turned inward, anger can implode as depression or manifest in addictive behavior. Turned outward, anger can explode as rage.
I am a long-term survivor of childhood emotional abuse and neglect. My father committed suicide with a gun, and my best friend was killed in a bicycle accident. I am also married to a twenty-year NYC police officer who was shot and forced to kill another person. In addition, he lost half his unit at the World Trade Center attack, then had to search through the rubble for the remains of fallen others. I struggle with depression and my husband struggles with rage—which almost caused us to split up. Now I see a trauma specialist and my husband is getting help too. Initially, his rage and abuse triggered my symptoms, but he no longer does that and when I cry or get withdrawn he holds me, reassures me, and gets me to my therapist. Now we know we need to make our home environment a place of peace at all costs. Now it is an anchor for him too and a place where he can relax and unwind.
In the introduction to this book, I wrote that trauma comes from the Greek word for wound. When wounds aren’t taken care of properly, they fester and get infected. Like wounds, our feelings about our loved one’s trauma can become toxic if we don’t tend to them. As scary as it may seem, we need to feel all of our feelings, just as our loved one needs to feel all of their feelings. Our mutual healing and our future serenity depend on it. Declaring a “toxic-free zone” doesn’t mean establishing a sanctuary where only warm and fuzzy emotions are allowed. It means honoring ourselves and respecting others as complete human beings, made up of a wide range of complex and diverse feelings—some of which are warm and loving, others of which are dark and sometimes frightening.
Trauma and Anger
As the National Center for PTSD points out on its Web site, anger is often a central feature of a response to trauma because it is a core component of the survival response in humans. Anger helps us cope with life’s difficulties by providing us with increased energy to persist in the face of obstacles. However, unmanaged or stifled anger can lead to a continued sense of being out of control, creating multiple problems in the lives of trauma survivors and those who love them.
My rage was off the charts when my little sister got raped. I just wanted to hunt down the bastard who did this to her, even though we didn’t have a clue who he was. I was supposed to be her big brother protector, and I felt like I let her down. Finally, Mom took me aside and told me that all my yelling wasn’t helping anything—that my sis needed hugs and reassurance, not a revenge-filled brother who they all worried would do something crazy.
In her book, Vietnam Wives, Aphrodite Matsakis, Ph.D., stresses the importance of getting in touch with your anger and learning how to deal with it in a constructive rather than destructive way. “Many of the women suffer from impacted anger just as do their partners,” she writes. “If a woman has repressed her anger over time regarding a series of incidents, then each new conflict with her partner brings to the surface not only the anger appropriate to that particular incident, but all the built-up angers from the past.” Meanwhile, Matsakis writes, many traumatized loved ones fear hurting their spouses or children if they let their anger show and they can’t control it, so they shut down emotionally or try to dull their feelings with alcohol or other drugs. Others turn to food.
I found it interesting and a little sad when I read in Matsakis’ book that 20 percent of the wives of PTSD patients polled at vet centers were significantly overweight—some of them double their ideal weight. “It is possible that these women literally swallowed their anger as well as other feelings,” she writes. One of the wives she counseled, for example, binged whenever her husband disappointed or ridiculed her or cheated on her with other women. “Each of his blondes has cost me thirty pounds,” she told Matsakis. While it may appear that this type of “revenge eating” is meant to punish a spouse, Matsakis writes that on a deeper level it is a form of self-abuse that results in low self-esteem. In such instances, the partner of a spouse with PTSD doesn’t even feel entitled to their anger.
Suppressed anger has a way of seeping out in other unhealthy ways when our emotional “cup” gets to the point of overflowing. I remember shouting at a mother at a park for letting her young child litter. Rather than thinking she may not have even seen the minor infraction, I marched over to her with the discarded wrapper and waved it in her face, yelling, “Can’t you teach your kid not to litter?” I’ve also been known to give the finger to bad drivers. Others who stuff their anger relate similar stories.
About a year ago, I just started getting very angry very quickly. Road rage would come so easily that I was afraid to drive. I would be very easily irritated by coworkers. And I never could seem to direct it properly or find a cause for it. I wanted to scream. I did anger-releasing rituals, grounding exercises, all to some relief but all too temporary. Now I’m beginning to connect the rage to our family’s trauma and slowly, slowly I think I’m being healed. [Sometimes] the only way out is through.
Research also reveals that anger can be a normal response to betrayal or the loss of trust, particularly in situations of interpersonal exploitation or violence. In situations of early childhood abuse, the trauma and shock of the abuse has been shown to interfere with an individual’s ability to regulate emotions.
This probably will sound strange, but I do not like to be angry. It could be grounded in my upbringing in church, or the way I have seen anger explode in family settings. Whatever the reasons are, I was raped repeatedly by a stranger at gunpoint at the age of twelve and molested by an uncle in early childhood. Should I be pissed? YES! But anger scares me. The pure rage is what hurt me. It is the instrument that slashed my soul, and so I am very reluctant to hold that sword of fury in my hands. I am afraid it will kill me or others.
For a trauma survivor, angry or violent outbursts can be linked to hyperarousal symptoms (sleep problems and nightmares, irritability, difficulty concentrating, hypervigilance, and exaggerated responses). Trauma survivors—especially those whose symptoms go untreated—are frequently on edge, which can cause them to be easily provoked or even look for a “depository” (or rationale) for the rage that boils within them. This makes them particularly susceptible to things like bar fights or domestic violence, often putting their families and friends on constant alert, which ironically fuels their own suppressed anger.
My dad is a Vietnam vet with PTSD and war wounds. When he got home from the hospital, he went out drinking and some guy took his money off the bar. He told the guy he would be back and the money better be on the bar when he got there. He left to get a gun and returned to the bar with it, but shot his foot when he pulled it out. With all the meds he was on and the drinking, he didn’t even know he shot himself.
While aggression can be an appropriate behavior in certain threatening situations, the National Center for PTSD states on its Web site that those with post-traumatic symptoms can get stuck in an aggressive mode or become passive-aggressive (for example, complaining, backstabbing, deliberately being late, or purposely doing a poor job).
My husband’s rage was so unpredictable. He’d be sweet one minute, then fly off the handle the next, threatening me or kicking our dog out of the way. After a rage attack, he’d either blame me for his anger and not talk for days, or he’d be so remorseful I thought he might hurt himself. My adult children finally took me aside and told me they were worried about my safety. I got help for myself but he refused to see anyone. We’re separated now and will probably get divorced, but I just couldn’t live like that anymore.
Angry loved ones can also become self-aggressive, engaging in self-destructive activities, self-blame, being self-critical, or injuring themselves. As Matsakis illustrated, those closest to the trauma survivor can also exhibit these behaviors if they ignore or bury their true emotions.
So much about trauma is about the loss of control. We couldn’t control what happened to our loved one, and we can’t control how he or she deals with post-traumatic symptoms. Many trauma survivors also feel that their lives are spinning out of control. In an effort to maintain an illusion of control in the wake of trauma symptoms, some families get compulsively rigid about rules (be on time, sit up straight, make your bed, put it back where you found it) and blow up if those rules are not followed religiously.
Michael grew up in a household filled with rules where he learned to stifle all feelings, especially anger. Then he went to a Catholic seminary filled with more rules, then on to the Marine Corps and Vietnam, where following rules and adopting the typical soldiers’ mantra, “it don’t mean nothin’” kept him alive. By the time he reentered the world after Vietnam, the “don’t feel” rule was so cemented into him that the thought of expressing anger terrified him. He had been sitting on feelings for so many years, he feared a volcanic eruption if he got in touch with his true emotions. So we limped along, with me often brimming over with misdirected emotion and Michael often lost in an emotional void.
Uncovering Uncomfortable Feelings
Although our feelings may seem to pounce from shadows and catch us unaware, our bodies can give us clues about tumultuous emotions—even if our minds are numb to them. Pay attention to that lump in your throat, your sweaty palms, your tense and aching shoulders, the knot in your stomach, the headache, or your racing heart. Remove yourself from an atmosphere of tension and go someplace where you can breathe deeply into the bodily sensation. Try to sit quietly or take a calm walk. Try to identify the corresponding emotion.
Hit your emotional “pause” button if you sense anger rising to the surface, and recall the previous discussion about cognitive distortions. Ask yourself, “What’s the story behind the story?” Are you really angry with the rude clerk, or are you frustrated about something that happened with your loved one? Are you really that angry because your child didn’t do their homework, or are you overcome and exhausted at having to handle so many responsibilities? Is your anger linked to a sense of helplessness or hopelessness? What’s the deeper story?
I had a chance to attend a weeklong retreat with Vietnamese monk Thich Nhat Hahn, who talked a lot about anger. He said that anger is a shield for grief and described a cord that connects anger and grief back to a prior hurt. Rage is not a venting of anger but a way to further water the seeds of anger, which he said only leads to more sorrow. He taught me that I am my anger. I should own it, and embrace it with mindfulness and tenderness to gain understanding about its roots. I know now that so many of my powerful emotions about my loved one’s trauma are made stronger because of my own childhood experiences. I’ve learned not to express or suppress anger, but to transform it by uncovering its true source. Thich Nhat Hahn said that when a baby cries, a parent doesn’t stop the crying; they look for and then tend to the reason for the tears. He taught me that we need to “baby” our anger and treat it with the same love and understanding.
A former firefighter told me that first responders use the acronym H.O.T. (Hazardous Overload of Thoughts) as a way to describe what happens when the “emotional backdraft” from pent-up and ongoing trauma gets to be too much. This buildup of unexpressed feelings occurs among family and friends of trauma survivors too. Pay close attention to what’s going on in your body. Is your emotional thermometer running too H.O.T?
Before your anger explodes into rage or implodes into self-loathing, stop and try to complete the sentence, “I feel __________________.” Sometimes it helps to name a feeling in writing and keep your pen to the paper, not stopping to edit yourself or your feelings. Identifying your feelings to yourself in this way is like extracting venom from a snakebite. You may still have to salve the wound, but it is no longer toxic. Some experts suggest limiting the amount of time you sit with your feelings. They also caution against doing too much self-examination of this sort at bedtime because it can interfere with much-needed sleep.
Releasing emotion through writing or through something physical like walking, running, breathing deeply, or getting a massage, also relieves the tension that is stored with the feeling. Once you have calmed your body and your emotions, you are better able to express them to a friend or your loved one without rage or blame.
I’ve tried to help my friend with his anger. He’s got such a short fuse. He’s trying to cope with his wife and her trauma symptoms and her complete dependency on him. Then they had a house fire and he’s got all that to contend with. One day, I walked him out into the woods and said, “I bet you’re so angry you could just scream,” so we took turns screaming until we got hoarse. We both felt so much better; we just started laughing.
With time and practice, you will be able to greet the beginning of a feeling like anger as a familiar (though sometimes unwelcome) visitor. “Oh, there you are again. What are you hiding behind your back this time?”
Protecting Yourself from Another’s Toxicity
When you are the primary support for a traumatized loved one, you deserve to be supported genuinely and loved unconditionally. You deserve to be listened to and treated respectfully—just as others deserve to be treated respectfully by you.
There is support, and there is sabotage, however. A supportive friend does not try to talk you out of your feelings or insinuate that you or your loved one should just move on or “get over” a traumatic experience. In fact, a truly supportive friend will not suggest what you should or should not do or feel in any circumstance.
If you are feeling uncertain about whether a particular friend is helping or hindering your own healing in the wake of your loved one’s trauma, ask yourself if your friend listens without defining or judging who you are and what your problem is. In what ways do you feel accepted? In what ways do you feel judged? It’s fine for a trusted friend to ask for clarification or urge you to go deeper into a feeling or reaction. It’s not helpful, however, for a friend to attack or challenge your feelings in a way that feels more like combat than support.
I’m tired of my friend discounting the effects of my partner’s trauma on me and my family and arguing that PTSD should not be seen as a disorder. I don’t care what you want to call it, something claimed a part of her after the attack and changed our family in the process. We still see this friend socially, but no more serious conversations for a while.
When warning bells go off in your mind or body during a conversation with a supposedly supportive friend, you may need to take a break from the relationship—at least until you are feeling less vulnerable or not so emotionally and physically exhausted. If you choose, you can thank the friend for their concern, but simply explain that you don’t care to talk about the situation. There is no need to blame, punish, or lecture. If your friendship was a close one and you want to say more, remember to use “I” language and take responsibility for your own thoughts, feelings, and actions.
Things get a little trickier when your loved one is the one spewing venom and you find yourself in the line of fire. Trauma symptoms and PTSD are no excuse for your loved one to abuse, mistreat, threaten, or endanger you or your family. Leave the house immediately if you sense you or your children are in danger, and call for backup from the police, a crisis center, a neighbor, or a friend, depending on the severity of the situation.
In calmer times, try to develop some prevention strategies with your loved one so things don’t escalate to a dangerous level. You might want to ask your loved one what helps and what doesn’t help when he or she is feeling emotionally out of control.
Another thing I do when I feel rage building is tell whoever is around that I need to be left alone—completely alone. Then I usually curl up in a fetal position until I can feel safe again. Sometimes it takes a long time, but my boyfriend knows that I’m working on calming down. People with PTSD are extremely afraid. I think the key is to recognize when our “fight/flight” is kicking in and do anything at all to intercept it and go to a place where we can make ourselves feel safe again. I know for me, this means I can have no humans around me at all.
Once again, it comes down to balance, boundaries, and honest communication. If you and your loved one pay close and respectful attention to each other, you’ll probably know when tension is mounting. If you’ve talked about it beforehand, you’ll be able to say—without feeling selfish or rejected—“I need some space” or be able to ask “Do you want some space?” or “Do you want to call Jack or somebody to talk?” Giving yourselves time and space to cool H.O.T. feelings is a great exercise in self-care and healthy boundary setting.
In a toxic-free household, members also notice and express appreciation for the positive things that happen. Michael and I got in the habit of keeping a combined journal. We keep the book in a special place and when the spirit moves either of us, we jot down little notes for each other. This journal is also “toxic-free.” We don’t complain or shout on the pages; we express appreciation for something the other has done; we share an observation or thought; and sometimes we own a feeling or render an apology. We usually don’t discuss our entries. For us, the journal is a reminder of what we love and appreciate about each other, and reading a sweet note from Michael is like getting a tender hug.
