What do you say?

[deborahjross]

Some random thoughts on what I, as a trauma survivor, would like you, as listener, to know. The usual disclaimer is that there are as many circumstances of learning about the incident as there are people, that neither speaker nor listener is always in the same emotional place, and that every piece of advice must be tempered by the discernment of the moment. Not to mention, common sense.

Listen to me. Just listen. Don't try to fix me or make it all right or recommend the latest hot therapies because what I've been through makes you uncomfortable. There are no magic words, but there is magic silence. Hold me in your heart as I walk through the darkness. Trust that the presence of another human being, one who is listening deeply and compassionately, can be healing in itself.

Stay in touch with your own feelings. Use your judgment as to when to share them. Be grown-up enough to set them aside and later find a safe place to work them through for yourself. "When I hear what happened to you, I feel scared and angry." "This reminds me of how I felt during a hard time in my own life." "Your story brings up a lot of emotional stuff for me."

Tell the truth. "I don't know what to say." "I wish I could make it better."

Ask questions that empower me, that give me a choice as to how to respond. "What do you need from me at this moment?" "Is this a good time to ask questions?" "Can I share something of my own experience?" All these give me the option of saying no or going deeper. Trauma bursts on us unprepared, leaving us feeling powerless and violated. A caring listener can give us back a small measure of safety.

Don't downplay your pain in comparison with my pain. The spectacular-ness of one person's story cannot lessen the anguish of another's. In fact, when we minimize our pain, we cripple our own healing and silence others by implying that only huge, dramatic tragedies are worthy of tender care. Each of us faces our own tragedies, wrestles with our own demons, finds our own hope.

When someone tells me that my story has inspired or heartened them, I feel I have wrested some good from a terrible situation. That's one of the reasons I talk about it. "Thank you for trusting me."

The teddy bears were knitted by me for children in developing countries, most of them in Africa, who are HIV+ or have been orphaned by AIDS, through Mother Bear Project

Comments

[http://users.livejournal.com/la_marquise_de_/]

Thank you. You continue to amaze me.

[deborahjross.livejournal.com]

You're welcome, with love.

[kateelliott.livejournal.com]

Beautifully and compassionately said.

[deborahjross.livejournal.com]

Finding compassion for myself didn't come easy, but when I was able to, so much flowed from it.

[asakiyume.livejournal.com]

Thank you so much for this. This is what I wanted to know. And those teddy bears are wonderful.... and I had this thought:

Those children, who've suffered a huge loss, were able to give a gift to you, who'd suffered a great loss--and by doing so, they've gone from being the victims and the recipients of comfort to being the comforters. There's something deeply wonderful in that. And you have a deep connection now, with those children. I--feel overcome, thinking about it.

For great love <3

Edited: Oh, I was reading carelessly. It was you who made the bears for them. Well: that is *still* lovely and still makes a deep tie between you and them. ((hugs))

[deborahjross.livejournal.com]

Actually, you were exactly right the first time. I learned to knit from my mother, and over the years made many sweaters for friends and family. But as part of trauma-recovery, knitting offers special benefits -- continuation, a rhythmic meditative activity, a way of connecting to others. If you follow the link to Mother Bear, you'll see the faces of the children receiving the bears. It's such a miracle that I can be part of that. These kids will know that someone named Deborah (the bears have tags with the knitter's name) cared enough to make them a bear and send it all the way from America.

There is so much bad in the world that I cannot do anything about, so it is indeed a gift to me to be able to bring a smile to a child's face or keep an Afghan baby warm with a thick wool blanket (through afghans4Afghans).

[asakiyume.livejournal.com]

Their happy faces are *wonderful*

[deborahjross.livejournal.com]

Did you see the mer-bears? Maybe they're in the newsletter and not on the website. This lady who loves mermaids modified the pattern... mega cute!

[tcastleb.livejournal.com]

I get this. Both posts, really. And it's why I enjoy being with you on the few times we're near enough to hang out, because you have a very good understanding of yourself and your needs/wants, and are then able to put someone else at ease because of that. And it's so nice to be able to understand yourself well enough to know where the "bad" stuff comes from and then know what to do with it; I'm glad I've gotten to that point too.

And I'm so grateful now that I do have good friends (two-and four-legged) that are there when I need them. My friends have said I calm them down; they do the same for me when I need it, so it's good all around. :>)

[deborahjross.livejournal.com]

Friends, good friends with whom one can truly be oneself, are indeed one of life's treasures.

I'm so glad you feel safe with me.

[lingster1.livejournal.com]

Your advice here holds true for people working in hospice too, Deborah. Some people have come to terms with their lives and are peacefully ready to leave, but others are still nursing major traumas and need to talk to someone who'll just listen and not try to offer advice. Give love, not advice!

[deborahjross.livejournal.com]

Yes, yes!

A dear friend, who has been through many hard times, has finished her training as a home hospice nurse. She told me she was faced with some very hard situations but that she did okay. What I heard was that, having become more peaceful with her own fears, she is able to remain calm and lovingly detached from others'.