Was sitting here tonight thinking about everything that a sizable portion of the population will be looking forward to this and next week as we enter the apex of the holiday season.
And how little of it I have in my life.
I don't have fond childhood memories. My entire childhood, and up through age 30, was spent in my own version of personal dissociation. It was a very aware and present experience. But one entirely and wholly devoid of an actual true self. It was autistic masking taken to such a degree that there isn't even a term for me. I was this other thing. I was whatever others wanted me to be, and that was all that I subconsciously understood existence to be. So, that's childhood. I didn't have one. Not in sense of "formative development of an authentic self".
The family gets a solid C to C- grade. I'm privileged enough to have access to stable food and shelter, which so many don't. But the emotional support is anywhere from absent to, at times, directly emotionally abusive. We're working on it and things are surficially cordial. But there's no deep connection there beyond a shared history. So, we can scratch "fond family memories" off the list. And we all know that's a much more common lack than society at large truly gets to admit.
What about found family and friends? When I was masking more and was the pretend version of me that society accepted, I had a number of very active friendships. Psychology would label me as "socially strong". It's one of their many failed attempts at labeling people like me.
At age 30 something in me could no longer keep up the ruse. I had my first full blown panic attack in December of 2013. Not a single friendship over the years has been able to truly handle the resulting state of chronic emotional distress I've been stuck with ever since. I woke up from my extreme dissociation and instead found only anxiety. That anxiety has been with me every moment of every day since that point. The more I showed that to others, the worse it got. Far from being supported and helped, I experience continued and repeated abandonment, frustration, and giving up on me. And to be fair, these other individuals went through hell watching me time and again reach out to help systems only to have them fail me. Chronic distress hurts everyone around you and we don't have to pretend that it doesn't. So, we can scratch "close friendships" off the list.
What about community and help? Well, let's see. I've had nine years of the mental health system completely failing to help, and often times directly further abusing me. So the system sure doesn't feel like a community of effective care (no offense). And when I speak about this, even among "safe" support groups, I most often trigger defense mechanisms of others and get yelled at. And I get it. You intend to help. You want to help. It hurts when you're told that your efforts aren't working. But you have to learn to take some feedback. I've been banned from of over two dozen support groups, forums, and professional communities for the crime of saying "help didn't help me and I'm mad about it". If one is not getting any better, like I am, I'm apparently a threat to healing journey of others.
Even here at PACEConnections, if you look over my articles almost every one has a strongly dissenting view. Which is valid, but not exactly "warm and fuzzy community" feeling. Half of the professional community is my opposition more than anything else. No-one understand my condition and most of normal society thinks I should just "go see a therapist", so I can't be honest with hardly any local group about who or what I am. So no, I don't have community and no, I just can't just go find it. My position is that it mostly (not wholly but mostly) does not currently exist. That's what prejudiced ostracization is and it's a real thing.
You might think a community of "things called help didn't actually help me" would exist and it sort of does but it's absolutely minuscule. I've met a few others, and we all have such tiny capacity ourselves that mutual aid is a laughable concept. None of us have the capacity to help others when we're all in so distress every moment of every day ourselves.
Okay, the people say. Well, even if you don't have close social connections yet, can you find a way to enjoy the holidays yourself? You know, self-care! Self-love! Well, to start with, it's hard to self-love when you're broke. I haven't held down a full-time job in over three years. I'm overeducated and underemployed and anxiety prevents me from holding down most jobs. Career pivots are brutal and the career coaching industry never cops to how hard it actually is. And, have you noticed how many jobs are frustrating and awful, even for those who don't have trauma? I keep trying for a "good" job (very hard to find) and try to cut funds down wherever possible to support my inability to work.
Meanwhile, there's only so many days you can go for a mid-day walk with no friends and no money before it's not a fun thing anymore. At least for me. It's probably be more fun if was a choice and not the only thing on offer to do.
Also, remember the chronic anxiety I mentioned? That never goes away. I've had full blown panic attacks playing board games, attending wine and paint nights, and going for bike rides.I have anxiety attacks during most attempts at yoga sessions. I would describe myself as literally incapable of relaxation and it's the truth.
I could learn new skills but doing it wholly alone and unsupported is just another panic attack waiting to happen. Enjoyable skill-learning and hobby development is just not a feasible option while the anxiety persists. So, sorry well-wishers, but self-care is off the list too for now. As is rest.
There is no such thing as true rest for me. There's mindless consumption of TV and internet content, but that's a sedation technique and nothing more. It's not enjoyment. That's also what most psych meds are as well - sedation to stop any feeling or real experience - not actual relief from primary causes (not that we need to kick that hornet's nest of a debate but worth mentioning).
I'm not bitter or mad at the holidays. People who have these things should be allowed to enjoy, celebrate, and be grateful for them. And this message isn't meant as a guilt trip.
What I do want, and still don't have, is acknowledgement that my experience is real. That I am unhelped because society refuses to help me. That professionals refuse to listen to my critiques and refuse to work with me on building systems that would help. Instead, they either insist that their items do work, or insist that someone else is responsible for me. They pass the buck to the next person, who passes the buck to the next person, and no-one admits that currently there is nowhere that exists that can actually work with and engage with me in a constructive manner. Effective help and assistance does not currently exist and no-one seems to want to acknowledge it
If the trauma-informed community wants to give me a holiday present, it would be this. I want opportunities for genuine and supported co-creation opportunities when it comes to developing knowledge about emotional distress and building services to help mitigate it. I know my experience better than you, and when I saying something not's working that deserves to be respected.
I shouldn't have ever had to fight this hard against the communities I live in for this ask. I'm still out here fighting. It's basically the only thing my waking hours are spent doing. There is no such thing as a holiday break in my world. Not yet. Maybe one day.
I hope you readers who do have even one of the holiday features above can enjoy it this and next week. If you don't, I see you and solidarity with your struggles. And I ask the trauma-informed community to consider making co-creation / co-production part of your professional New Year's resolution this coming year.
I don't need your pity. I don't need your sympathy. I need to be given resources and empowerment to direct and build the things that would actually help. It's really just that simple.
Sincerely,
- Max Taylor
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