Learned helplessness

Saturday, 14 January 2012

“Learned helplessness” is a behavior observed in animal experiments. When a dog in a cage is subjected to shocks but restrained so that it cannot escape, it eventually stops fighting. Even when the door is open, the dog just lies there, “taking” it.

It has been proposed that people who suffered sufficient degrees of abuse (especially women, and especially those subject to intimate terrorism) eventually manifest this same tendency. This is used to explain why “she doesn’t just leave him”.

However, others have observed women in these situations, and have contented that the women do not demonstrate this behavior. In fact, they do still “rebel” in various ways. It’s just that that ways aren’t particularly useful or effective. Therefore, the thinking goes, the women are not “helpless”; they are just… well, they’re something that makes the results pretty much their own fault. “Hysterical” or “immature” or “manipulative” or something.

I think each position has merit, but is too absolute.

Another metaphor for “learned helplessness” is the elephant who was trained in its early years not to fight the chain holding him to a stake in the ground. When the elephant is small, that stake is sufficient to hold him fast. If he fights, he only tires (and perhaps injures) himself. Fighting has no positive result, and potentially negative results.

Once the elephant is grown, he has more than enough strength to pull the stake from the ground, but he never tries. Instead, he may toss its head, trumpet, give his mahout a dirty look, or otherwise generally act cranky or resentful. He does “rebel”, but not in effective ways. He learned long ago not even to try. Pulling the stake doesn’t even occur to him as a valid option.

This, I think, is a better model of the ineffective patterns resulting from prolonged abuse, especially when it started in childhood. The diagnosis of Borderline Personality Disorder (BPD) generally includes the accusation of manipulativeness, but also condemns the sufferer for her ineffectiveness and clumsiness. The abused spouse is condemned for staying with her abuser, and her staying is used to accuse her of making it all up or blowing things out of proportion.

But the problem is simpler than that. She makes those dysfuntional decisions because she honestly can’t conceive of other options. She is ineffectual because she learned, long ago, that the effective means of rebellion were not options. Fighting for help (as a child) or leaving (as a spouse) simply never occurs to her.

“As We Understood God” Part 2

Thursday, 12 January 2012

I spoke yesterday with a trusted friend who has worked through so many of the same issues as I face. I asked him about “the Third Step” which, for codependents, is:

We…made a decision to turn our will and our lives over to the care of God as we understood God.

I told him that I was coming at this “turning over to God” thing from a background where that meant “do as you’re told, no matter how much you don’t like it”. This friend already knows that I have a background of being altogether (and often unknowingly) willing to do as I’m told. But this has almost never been to my benefit.

He pointed out that surely a loving Higher Power would not want me doing things that harm myself or others. I had to agree. So, he said, this suggests that part of submitting to God is the act of ceasing submitting to other people, especially those who direct me to do harm. Part of submitting is doing what is good (though this will often not be easy, fun, or comfortable) for myself.

I’m not sure I “get” this, entirely, but I think I can work with it. And that’s good enough for now.

“As We Understood God”

Wednesday, 11 January 2012

Twelve Step programs are spiritual at their base. They don’t specify the god one should worship, and I’m not even sure that “worship” is the right word for the relationship these programs espouse.

I grew up with my mother telling me repeatedly, “God is going to get you for ruining my life!” Praying seemed only to guarantee that whatever I’d asked for came back to hurt me, or seemed specifically to be damaged or destroyed. The highest ideals (chosen by others for me) were submission and obedience. “Surrendering one’s life” to God meant doing whatever those in power told one to do, no matter how detrimental or even illegal.

Understandably, I have issues with the whole idea of surrendering my “will and life” to anyone or anything. Granted, I have a tendency to do this anyway, but I’ve rarely ever meant to.

But back when this was required, at least the expectations, some of them, were clear, because I was told what I was supposed to do (or think or feel or believe). I might not have done it, but I knew what “it” was.

How would that work with one’s “Higher Power”? What does it mean to “surrender control” in the Twelve-Step context? What would this Step look like in practice? Because it sounds to me like I’d just be sitting there with my thumbs up my @$$, waiting to hear voices. And I’m pretty sure that this isn’t what’s meant.

My mechanic

Thursday, 5 January 2012

I was out walking today, and (finally!) remembered to stop in at my mechanic.

My windshield has had a crack since back in the summer. Even after five years of living in the Midwest, my brain still seems stuck in Arizona. It hadn’t occurred to me until recently that maybe a cracked windshield won’t hold up well to frequent scraping and chipping of frost and ice.

So I asked him if he could get that fixed for me. He could. While making arrangements for me to drop off the car, we had a lovely time chatting. He’s good at what he does and he’s always provided great service. But he’s also a really nice guy.

I hate having to get my car serviced, but he’s a perfect example of how surprising can be the people you end up being glad you met, despite the circumstances.

“We admitted we were powerless…”

Sunday, 1 January 2012

Part of any Twelve-Step program involves agreeing with the statement that one is “powerless” over whatever is the problem at hand, whether alcoholism, codependency, or something else. This presumed powerlessness may be presented within a “disease” framework, such as calling alcoholism an “allergy” or referring to codependency as “Borderline Personality Disorder”.

I objected to this “disease” characterisation because it seemed to “blame the victim”. My parents and spouse abused me, and the results are my fault?!? Sure, I’m damaged, but I’m hardly “diseased”! But I’ve rethought the issue.

Imagine a child who was born perfectly healthy. While he was still just an infant, he was “shaken” to the point of having his retinas detach. It doesn’t matter that the child did nothing wrong; the fact is, he’s blind, and always will be. He will always have “issues”; the effects of the damage will always be present.

And if he tries to live his life without taking that damage into account– well, that’d just be crazy, and his life could easily become unmanageable.

Similarly, my sisters and I never did anything to “deserve” what was done to us. But that doesn’t matter; the fact is, we’re damaged, and always will be. The effects of that damage will always be present.

I need to start taking account of that.

Sleigh bells? Something’s ringing….

Saturday, 31 December 2011

My tinnitus (persistent ringing in the ears) became noticeable to me in 2005 or so. Recently, it seems to me to have gotten yet louder. I can hear it when things get only vaguely calm or quiet.

In doing a bit of research, I’ve learned that the chronic dizziness (caused by the orthostatic hypotension I’ve had since I was fourteen) may have, in part, led to the tinnitus. Also, apparently long-term severe stress can cause or worsen the malady.

How ironic: My husband claims  that he is the one with the hypotension (which started, no doubt, shortly after he starting having his period) and that he suffered years of spousal abuse (he likes to tell people that I would beat him up), and now I may go deaf because of it. It’s almost funny.

My husband’s newest girlfriend

Friday, 30 December 2011

I received an odd letter today, ostensibly from the husband of my husband’s newest girlfriend. The man wants to meet to tell me about his wife. How odd.

I’ve run the letter (and my situation) past a couple trusted advisors. One is concerned, in light of previous behavior, about this being a “take down” set-up. The other feels that nothing useful would come of a meeting, but it could be amusing to hear about the girlfriend.

The writer is, I think, Romanian. I’m tempted to follow up with him.

But why?

My portrait

Saturday, 24 December 2011

Late this morning, I walked across the street to the local indoor flea market. While there, I ran across a guy drawing portraits. It was apparent that he was pretty good. I thought about getting my son’s portrait done, but the boy needs a haircut, so I figured I’d wait until some other time.

Then it occurred to me: I’ve had no proper portrait from the last decade or so. Why not get my portrait done?

So I did:

Child abuse as trauma

Saturday, 24 December 2011

I’ve never claimed that my childhood was a happy one. When starting my research into the effects of my background, I kept coming across references to Judith Herman’s Trauma and Recovery. But I didn’t bother with it, since I’d “only” had a really lousy childhood; I hadn’t been “traumatized”.

But then a woman whose opinion I very much respect recommended that I read this book. I did, and was astounded. Ms. Herman makes the connection between soldiers, rape victims, and children who suffered long-term psychological abuse. She has even coined a term for the effects of that long-term abuse: Complex Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (also written as “Complex-PTSD” or “C-PTSD”).

The term “comples” is not meant to imply that what soldiers or rape victims suffer is “simple”. The distinction is meant to be in the circumstriction of inducing events. The soldier did not grow up in that war zone; he did not experience that battlefield trauma every day for the first decade or two of his life. The rape victim (assuming we’re not talking about child-molestation) did not grow up in that alley or back seat; she did not experience that assaultive trauma every day for the first decade or two of her life.

On the other hand, children who grew up abused did grow up in that terroristic environment; we did experience that intimate trauma every day for the first decade or two of our lives.

Instead of having a limited traumatic experience to overcome in order to return to our pre-existing mental health, we have little but traumatic experiences, and we have little or nothing healthy to which we can return. The “complex” part of “C-PTSD” is a reference to the thoroughness and duration of our abuse.

Unfortunately, because we never had a secure psychological foundation, the techniques for helping suffers of “regular” PTSD tend not to be effective for us.

“High conflict” divorce, or continued abuse?

Saturday, 24 December 2011

It’s just over three years now since I accidentally found out that my husband was planning to serve me with divorce papers in less than two weeks. On 15 December 2008, I stumbled onto evidence of my husband’s conversation with others, talking about how “we” were waiting until after the holidays, but that “we” would be separated by 2009.

Once a divorce case passes the two-year mark, it is officially a “high conflict” divorce. The term’s implications are fully supported by the family-court system: Both parties are deemed equally guilty of being combative. The fact of the extremely high overlap between “high conflict” cases and cases involving domestic abuse is generally swept under the rug as being irrelevant or unrelated.

Indeed, I’ve read of a case in which, during the same court appearance in front of the same judge, a woman was granted a restraining order (due to her husband’s abuse of her and her children) and was then loudly condemned by the judge for “alienating the affections” of the children for their abuser (by having gotten a restraining order so as to protect the children).

Somehow, as soon as the abuse victim is involved in a divorce case, the power-unequal abusive relationship is converted into a power-equal conflictual relationship. It doesn’t matter that nothing the victim does (other than dying) will ever be good enough for the abuser. The fact that the abuser won’t accept anything less than a continuation of his control means that he will drag things out as long as he can. And his victim is blamed.

She is told that she needs to “start negotiating in good faith”, as though her abuser were trustworthy and honorable. She is told that she needs to “be willing to compromise” with somebody who is making impossible demands. The ideal of “splitting things down the middle” leaves her in the position of trying to protect herself (and being condemned) or else “compromising” by relinquishing her rights. The philosophical basis is the mediation model, but even proponents of mediation flatly state that it won’t work in a power-unequal environment.

The “meeting in the middle” model is a nice idea. Unfortunately, it fails in practice because it assumes a parity which does not exist.