Vicarious Traumatization

A few nights ago, I had a dream in which I had joined a group of adults and children hunkered down in an apartment that was under attack from the air. As bombs were falling, not only did we not hide in the dark, but instead, each of us held up a candelabra and invoked the idea of surrounding ourselves in a bubble of protection. As we held the lights aloft, the bubble rose, like the soft top of a convertible, over us. The bombing stopped and sunlight streamed in through the windows. No surprise that one of the people in the dream was my friend Dr. Yvonne Kaye who had survived the Blitzkrieg in London during WWII when she was a child. Back then, she did indeed hide in a room, tiny gas mask on her face until the bombing ceased. No surprise that when I checked emails in the morning, the first one I saw was from her. I shared my dream with her and told her of an insight I had as a result.

In present time, a massive earthquake shook the ground and shook up lives in Turkey and Syria. Miraculously, 11 days after the initial tremors, people are being recovered. I can only imagine their thoughts while buried under the rubble, in the dark and cold. In Ukraine, bombs are falling and people are living in chaos and crisis. I think about the children and the adults who do their best to protect them against the human enemies that attack them and the fear that encases them. At any time and any where, it is possible that someone with a gun could cause murder and mayhem. School. House of Worship. Supermarket. Parade. Salon. Marathon. Nightclub. At the hands of those who vowed ‘to serve and protect’. Wondering if your child of any age will come home, as a result of the color of their skin. Even if you are not in any of those circumstances, you are immersed in emotion soup and whether or not you are consciously aware of it, chances are, you are experiencing vicarious traumatization, or secondary trauma.

I am a psychotherapist who treats trauma survivors so I am accustomed to putting on my protective shields while I am listening to the stories my clients share with me. Some of the conversations revolve around loss and grief. Because I don’t switch it off when I leave the office and my friends know I am available for support, I am a safe place for them as well. Yesterday, I spoke with two friends who were facing pain in their lives. One was just diagnosed with cancer and another’s mother died. Each call was the bread on the sandwich of my ride to and from work. I spoke with him on the way in and her on the way home. In between I helped clients navigate adolescent angst, parental frustration, and for another client, the death of her grandmother. A range of human emotional states showered down on me, from sadness, anger and fear, to sweet memories. I remind myself to breathe and once the sessions and the calls were over, I sighed and let out a ‘barbaric YAWP!’ (By the way, that is one of my favorite scenes from “Dead Poets’ Society.” starring the once in many generations talented Robin Williams.) I do what I can to provide self care. Naps, drinking lots of water and herbal tea, exercise, immersing in nature, writing, prayer, music, time with family and friends and returning to hugging in the aftermath of the pandemic. Lately, I have been ever more grateful for that gift of heart to heart human contact.

Back to my conversation with Yvonne. She is a trauma survivor who, now at 89 still carries the emotional impact of being what she calls “a child of war.” Sometimes easily startled, especially when unexpected fireworks are shot off. She has a visceral reaction in tire stores because of the smell of rubber that reminds her of the gas mask. Back in the beginning of the pandemic when some people were resisting wearing light weight masks to protect themselves and others, she reminded them about needing to carry a box with her child size gas mask in it for years, at the ready for if the air raid sirens sounded. I suggested that she not only identify as “living history,” as she often says, but a guide for people who are experiencing current PTSD either as a result of their personal experiences, but because they can’t help but be affected by what is going on around them in the world right now. The 24 hour news cycle is relentless and we are bombarded with information that we need to have so as not to be oblivious, but can be damaging. We need our jangly nerves to be soothed.

“Being kind is more important than being right. Most times, what people need is not a brilliant mind that speaks, rather, they need a patient heart that listens.” — Dr. Yvonne Kaye

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