Monday, 29 June 2020

The difference between being a victim and feeling like one

When one first becomes a victim of trauma as a child, it's hard to remember a life 'before'. Thus one doesn't know how much the trauma has changed one's course in life. We are after all the product of our memories and experiences, which consequently form our expectations and goals in life. It is through the contact with others that we may learn that we have in fact undergone a traumatic transformation. All too often this is due to behaviour on the side of the traumatised person that can be termed 'dysfunctional', as it is counter-productive for them and can cause major social and career issues. The way we seek out and respond to social interactions is after all determined by our personality, which is that which our memories and experiences formed.

Being a victim is easy. After all, there are no special requirements. There can be some expectations of one, such as providing sufficient resistance ('putting up a fight'), or by showing the appropriate restraint and acceptable social behaviour on one's side prior to the traumatic event(s). For childhood trauma it's even easier. After all, isn't the very definition of a child a person who is dependent on adults for their very livelihood, which by definition requires an almost naive level of trust?


By becoming aware of the trauma which one has suffered and the impact it has had on one's life, one is offered a choice. Either one can choose to ignore it and continue as before, or one can form a new personality role: that of the therapist/loving parent. While the former choice is very likely to end poorly, the latter choice is not without issues either. It requires one to slowly abandon the feeling of being a victim and to build up a personality which is not inextricably linked with the role of being a victim.

Are you a victim or a person?

In the therapist/loving parent role, one tries to understand one's own actions (the traumatised child's) and feelings in the context of the trauma that had been suffered. Exploring this trauma in a controlled, safe setting is paramount to better learn and understand it. Together, the traumatised child and therapist/loving parent can experience these memories and associated feelings, with the latter able to add a new level of context and comprehension to just what has happened, and why it should be left in the past.

The traumatised child's behavioural patterns are unmistakable in one's daily thoughts, feelings and actions. The original single or repeated act of violence may have disrupted the child's world so much that all they could do was to patch over these memories with equally strong emotions, seeking coping mechanisms to deal with the psychological and mental stresses that this causes. A simple feeling of discomfort over time grows into a feeling of continuous apprehension and fear. The act of being physically touched may end up evoking strong feelings of revulsion.


If there is one thing which I have learned over the past decades, it is that it is extremely easy to not be aware of being a victim, and also very easy to live that victim role to the fullest extent. Not questioning one's own dysfunctional behaviour, nor being aware of anything that may have happened in the past.

I mean, sure, the roughly fifteen years that I spent dealing with the ignorance and unwillingness of the medical system were by no means fun, to the point where for my psychotherapist at the time it was sufficient to chalk it up as the cause for the PTSD with which he diagnosed me. Yet there was more than just that. The more time passed, the more it became obvious that my struggles in the medical system was more about re-traumatising and re-victimisation. I could after all remember dysfunctional behaviour from my side years before my mishaps with doctors.

Small details kept bugging me, such as my mother asking at one point whether anyone had abused me when I was a young child, to her recalling how my personality had dramatically changed when I was about five years old, with me no longer accepting any kind of physical contact, caressing or embracing. It all made for an eerie possibility, which allowed me to finally place the continuous feeling of intense sadness and apprehension. This lead to the resurgence of fragments of memories and sensations. All of unspeakable, traumatic things.

The intervening years between that original trauma and today have not been kind to me, either. From being bullied at school for years, to my parents divorcing, to my struggles as an intersex person in the medical system, to repeatedly suffering physical, psychological and sexual abuse, to having my money and belongings stolen, I had every reason to feel like a victim. Because I am one.


Yet the thing which therapist me has been able to convince traumatised child me of is that one can never live a normal, happy life if one cannot let go of the feeling of being a victim. This letting go involves drawing a line between 'then' and 'now'. The trauma of the past has to be seen as a contamination that if left unchecked will corrupt one's life for now and forever. Since this happens by the generating of new, corrupted memories through one's actions and responses, one must make sure that all of these actions and responses are untainted by the trauma(s).

Feeling apprehensive about something when you know it's harmless? Just do it. Work towards those small leaps of faith (or fate), where one trusts reason over emotions and feelings. Listen to the anxious voice in the back of your mind telling you that you can still get out of something, that you can still dodge those actions, those responsibilities, those opportunities. You can look at all the seemingly easy excuses the part of your brain corrupted by trauma offers you.

And then ignore all of it.

Because if you give into the trauma, if you accept feeling like a victim, accept being re-traumatised over and over, the trauma will have transformed you from a person into a victim. By living your life as a victim through the lens of the trauma, you give up everything that could have been.


Not living my life through the traumas of the past is very tough. Usually you'd let your subconscious mind wander around, dragging up bits and pieces that form feelings and semi-coherent thoughts that your conscious mind can then take and put into words and actions. Yet the same subconscious mind is the very same that has been the most corrupted by the trauma, and thus it is unreliable. Every single thing that my conscious mind gets handed by my subconscious mind has to be checked, re-checked and validated for being free of the taint of trauma.

Anything that feels defeatist, or helpless, or needlessly negative, or otherwise 'smells' wrong is discarded and replaced with a conscious thought as my conscious mind has to steer my feelings to remain untainted as well. It's a constant struggle to remain on top, yet it is a necessary one.


Theoretically, by remaining on top of this process, one can finally draw that line between 'then' and 'now', with it becoming easier as the last tainted memories are pushed away into the past by new, untainted memories and experiences.

Even if the feeling of trauma remains palpable, the most important thing is that one will have done their utmost to live life as a person, instead of a victim. Because to live one's live as a victim is to have lived no life at all.


Maya

Wednesday, 10 June 2020

The tyranny of political correctness, or: Vox Populi, Vox Dei

Some who have recently followed the news may have come across a little kerfuffle between J.K. Rowling and a vocal group who took offence at Ms Rowling taking offence with the term 'people who menstruate' as a redefinition of simply 'women'. Somehow this escalated into Ms Rowling being called a trans-exclusionary radical feminist (TERF), trans-phobic and many more colourful terms.

Reading through Ms Rowling's recent open letter on the topic [1], I do not see the writings of a TERF, or a trans-phobic person. Instead it is a balanced post, that raises a lot of important questions and concerns. It, along with the rest of this topic, hits close to home for me.


As an intersex person I, too, have been called a TERF, trans-phobic, etc. simply for not following the 'pro-trans' script.

As an intersex person I have suffered immensely and am still being denied proper medical treatment [2] because the trans dialogue has made it impossible to be intersex in today’s society. Doctors and psychologists have done their best for over a decade to try and make me believe that I had to be transgender. [3]

As an intersex person I am legally able to refer to myself as ’male’ and ’female’, on account of being a hermaphrodite. This characteristic of my body has forced me to consider what it means to be male/female, and what this ’woman’ and ’man’ thing are.

This made me realise that gender isn’t real. It’s just what we used to call ’societal role’, as based on one’s biological sex [5]. Recent scientific studies have made it clear that the human brain is not dimorphic, and shows no sex-based differences. [6]

This also fits my experiences as someone who was forced to live in a male role and now has shifted into a female role for convenience.

What does it mean to be a woman? It’s something that those who were born with a body that followed a female trajectory during development (including XXY and XY intersex women) can truly understand. It’s not about the societal role, but it’s about the sex-based aspect, of having these specific reproductive organs, a hormone system that colours one life from puberty onward.

As a hermaphrodite I can see Ms Rowling’s point, and I find no issue with it. She does not want to buy into the trans agenda, and follow the PC option of surrendering everything to appease extremist transgender folk and their allies. What’s even the point of wanting to be called a ’woman’? Why usurp a label when all one wants is to essentially act in a particular way in society? Why do situations like these feel like a decision has been taken, a ruling rendered and the execution scheduled?


There are some points where one has to admit that the Vox populi, the voice of the people, is not the vox Dei, as they wish to be heard. As Alcuin of York wrote in 798: "And those people should not be listened to who keep saying the voice of the people is the voice of God, since the riotousness of the crowd is always very close to madness". [7]

The reasonable voice is easily drowned out by the chanting of the crowd. No manner of eloquence can prevent a lynching. Before the Vox populi deems itself to be the vox Dei, it owes it to itself and its enduring legacy to consider its course and reasoning before committing to anything irreversible.


Maya


[1] https://www.jkrowling.com/opinions/j-k-rowling-writes-about-her-reasons-for-speaking-out-on-sex-and-gender-issues/
[2] https://mayaposch.blogspot.com/2020/02/so-i-got-denied-medical-care-because-of.html
[3] https://mayaposch.blogspot.com/2020/01/erasure-of-intersex-identity-through.html
[5] https://mayaposch.blogspot.com/2019/12/gender-is-social-contract-not-part-of.html
[6] https://mayaposch.blogspot.com/2019/12/your-brain-doesnt-care-what-genitals.html
[7] https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Vox_populi

Friday, 5 June 2020

One doesn't simply suffer police brutality

The past days, news about the death of George Floyd at the hands of a US police officer sparked protests around the world and flooded both social media and news reports with messages of grief, frustration, anger and rage. What was so different about this one was the graphic nature, with his final moments and words captured on camera and broadcast around the globe for everyone to see and experience. What was supposed to be a simple police arrest turned into an execution through asphyxiation.

Perhaps it was this very graphical reporting of George's final moments that triggered something in me. I'm not entirely sure. What I do know is that somehow it has made me suffer flashbacks to experiencing police brutality, amidst the realisation of how much of a part that experience still is of me today. It's the kind of experience which nobody should go through, and yet it can happen to anyone, anywhere.

One should never have to consider the circumstances when police brutality occurs. Although the police has a monopoly on using force, they do not have a legal right to use excessive force.


George did not resist arrest, yet he was sat on, and had his larynx constricted along with the rest of his neck by an officer pushing his knee onto it. There is nothing that could justify such behaviour on the side of the police officers, the rest of whom just silently stood by and watched this brutal execution.

It brought back memories of me being thrown onto the ground by police officers, of having handcuffs put on so tightly that they bit into my flesh, of having my head bashed repeatedly against the side of a car, of being sat upon, of forcefully being stripped naked and thrown into a holding cell.


In one brutal moment, you lose your rights as a human being and instead you're just this 'thing' that the police can do with whatever pleases them.


I guess I was lucky that I only suffered severe bruising over my entire body, bruised bone in my right knee (no torn meniscus, as was suspected) and peripheral neuropathy in my right hand from nerve damage that persists until today. At least I am not dead, like George.


As for whether George truly did try to pay with a false $20 note, or what happened before the police had their way with me, it truly does not matter. Because police brutality is never acceptable. Even a serial killer or child rapist isn't to be brutalised by the police. Because as an extension of the government and thus us, the public, the police is a reflection of our values and what we deem to be acceptable behaviour.


Maya