It is true. As much as you might love your partner and want to support them, there are ripple effects that impact well beyond the individual survivor. Those ripple effects are painful, and we can acknowledge that pain without diminishing the pain of being the direct victim. All of it sucks, and all of it is the fault of the abuser.
There’s no one else to blame, just a lot of people left to struggle. Let’s do what we can to support all of them.
Imagine your spouse going into a hospital for surgery or an injury and having no help navigating that, and also trying to take care of a 12-year-old daughter without anyone else there to take care of a meal or two or transport your kid to school and other events. That’s the reality Amy, and many other families, find themselves in because we still live in a world where we aren’t supposed to admit to having mental health issues and where those are the kinds of secrets you keep within the immediate family only.
I’ve seen so many examples of people who felt the need to say something to a grieving spouse, child, etc., that they wind up saying something that makes everyone who hears it cringe. There are some good examples of what not to say in the article below, but maybe this sentence is the best thing to remember:
“In the end, the best thing to say when you don’t know what to say is just that. “I don’t know what to say, but I’m here for you.” “
Of course, he’s right. What he sees in the UK is the same thing I see from my “much less qualified but simply paying attention” seat in the US, and I’m sure many of you see where you live as well. Our current mental health resources are designed to help “fix” something wrong with us. I can’t say they even do that well, but at least that is the plan, and that plan makes sense for many mental health struggles.
It is only part of the picture, though. In all seriousness, how would the 6-8 therapist sessions a good insurance plan covers help someone escaping domestic abuse or trying to feed a family on a minimum wage job? How is the teenager being abused at home, bullied at school, and overwhelmed by the bleakness of what the world might look like when they are an adult supposed to find hope in one crisis text line conversation?
How will we provide hope and connection to people without first understanding their world and how they navigate it every day?
How many times have we heard “why did you wait so long to speak out?” Have we considered what we’ve done to make survivors feel safe to do so? Have we considered what our friend or family group would need to look like in order for a survivor to feel safe opening up about their experiences?
So maybe, instead of agonizing over your friends not “being over it,” understand that they are learning a whole new way to navigate the world and figure out how you can help.
