Last week my psychologist/husband attended a training on assessment of serious bodily injury to children and child fatalities. The trainer showed a 3-4 minute video of actual physical abuse to an 18 month old toddler captured on a “nanny cam”. The trainer explained that the child’s parents had become suspicious when their daughter began to exhibit unexplained fears and unusual behaviors. She assured the participants that the child survived and is physically, if not emotionally, fine now. Still, my husband experienced a horrible visceral impact from watching the film, and, to relieve his own stress, began to observe others’ reactions. He saw seasoned case workers crying; he noticed an experienced attorney flinch, and he observed law enforcement and other child abuse professionals shifting in their seats, looking down or away or covering their faces. Clearly this brief video had a major impact on those who watched it. My husband contracts with the local department of human services to provide critical incident stress debriefings and secondary traumatic stress (STS) support. By the end of that day, he had received requests from several caseworkers to discuss the video’s impact. I found his report about this to be a potent reminder of the nature of trauma work. This wasn’t even a “live” case, the outcome was already known, and yet it was traumatizing to witness.
Here are some reasons trauma exposure can cause STS, identified by the pre-eminent STS researcher Charles Figley. First, empathy is a primary resource trauma responders use to assist trauma victims, and empathy is a key factor in the transmission of the impact of trauma from victim to helper. Also, many trauma responders/helpers have experienced some type of traumatic event in their own lives, and their work with a victim can rearouse their own trauma history. This is especially true if the helper’s own trauma is unaddressed or unresolved. Relevant to the above example, research shows that caregivers report being especially vulnerable to STS when the victim is a child.
So we care about, feel compassion for persons who have been traumatized. We are trained to assist and want to provide that assistance. But what do we do when we find ourselves impacted? Admit it, it isn’t easy to admit! “I’m OK,” we tell ourselves and others. “It was horrific, but I’ll be alright.” We don’t want to know how much our involvement with someone else’s trauma can tear us up, occupy our thoughts and our time, interfere with our usual life. We don’t want to know how vulnerable we can feel as a result. That in itself is a difficult barrier to overcome. Alone, dealing with our own periodic hyperarousal, we begin to loose perspective. This is why a strong and understanding peer group is so important!
Then what? I’ll keep exploring my thoughts about that here. I ‘d like to hear your thoughts and experiences, too. Let’s be sure that we remain compassionate and understanding with ourselves. Take care – really, take care.
