As I typed this title, I could hear the Star Wars theme running through my mind. No, I don’t think resiliency is Darth Vader or a Sith Lord. However, sometimes the most resilient people (we’ll call them Jedi Knights for this blog) have to fight with the dark side of resiliency.

Recently I was presenting for a group of first responders and the topic of self-care and trauma came up. A first responder said to me, “The very things we do to make it so we can do our job make us worse.” He was referring to the distance that first responders have to create in the moment in order to be able to respond to some of the most terrifying of human experiences. Training for police, first responders and military members are targeted to calm the body so the brain can analyze a situation and make the right choices in often split-second timing. The ways they are taught to view the individuals involved in a situation can appear dehumanizing to some and yet, how could any human treat life threatening traumatic injuries if they themselves are in shock or mourning? However, this resiliency training doesn’t stop in the moment. Even after the initial crisis is over, they continue to utilize coping skills to distance themselves from the event in order not to bring the story home and hurt those they love and in order to avoid the nightmares or intrusive thoughts. Often the skills they use back fire in their personal relationships. They may become harsh or withdrawn. They may choose isolation, or alcohol. They may experience hyper or insomnia.

As a counselor, I spend most of my day making an effort to be fully present; to be immersed in the session and the interchange that happens between myself and my clients. And yet, there are times when that was not possible. I have experienced true secondary trauma twice in my career. Other minor times have happened, but two shook me to my core. In one, I met with a client who chose to self-harm via cutting deeply on her arms during a bathroom break while in session and I had to administer first aid while awaiting first responders. In another, I met with a client whose pain and trauma manifested in very sadistic fantasies and a fascination with the workings of psychopathy and psychopaths. These experiences were very different. My resiliency in them responded differently. In the first I went into emergency mode; following protocol, assessing the situation, communicating clearly the situation to dispatch, maintain a calm manner and being calm and directive with the client while delivering basic first aid. The second (think of this one as accrued trauma – see previous blog), I had to literally close off a piece of me. I was present, actively listening, expressing genuine empathy and compassion and yet, there was a part of me that was locked tightly in a box in a far corner of my mind to ensure that I gave very little that this client could use in his exploration of psychopathic behaviors. It was an attempt to protect myself in order to still be present for this client who so desperately needed someone with whom to share his story.

The results of these two events? After I dealt with the medical emergency, filled out the necessary paperwork and was safe inside my office….I went into shock, quite literally. Thankfully, my supervisors were aware and took care of my physical and emotional needs in that moment to the extent that I would allow them. The feelings of shock faded and I began to stabilize and returned to working with clients after the weekend.

The second incident was much more difficult. You see, the tactic I used was in fact very similar to deliberate depersonalization or dissociation. I had locked a part of myself away. After sessions, I would be very cautious about unlocking it. I would avoid words, conversation, places and behaviors that would remind me of our sessions. I was a prisoner to these thoughts, but I didn’t recognize it. Instead, it was as if I was a Jedi Knight who could walk the line between the good and dark side. I had the mistaken belief that “All good therapists can walk this line. If I can’t compartmentalize this, I’m a bad therapist.” I feared sharing his stories with my peers or supervisor, because I might hurt them as deeply as the stories hurt me. Or, it might change how they viewed my client, for whom I felt genuine compassion. And so, I kept it a secret as much as possible. As a result, I did not recognize the impact on myself until our therapeutic relationship was severed. It was only then that I realized how disconnected I had become in those sessions and how much that impacted my work and personal life. I sought supervision and was able to learn very important lessons from this time.
So, what do all these stories actually mean? What is the dark side of resiliency? And how do we avoid it? If I boiled it down to one thing, the dark side of resiliency is that it can lead to the belief that in order to be resilient, it means I have to do it on my own. So often, we view resiliency as the ability to take a licking and keep on ticking. Or we’ll say to ourselves, “I got this.” For those of us in the helping field, our very identities become intertwined with this idea that we are strong and capable. In order to prove it, we deal with everything alone. In this way, we believe we prove our capabilities and we simultaneously protect those we love.

Yet not even the greatest Jedi Knight worked alone and every effort to do so failed miserably. Getting help (from peers, supervisors or professionals) doesn’t make us weak. It’s a key tool to resiliency and strengthens us and helps us to prepare to help in the next crisis we encounter.

Signs of the Struggle
Some signs that we are struggling with the darker side of resiliency include:

  • Feeling like you’re keeping secrets
  • Increased irritability or a case of “f-its”
  • Increased use of alcohol or other substances to “decompress” after work or stress
  • Giving up or not finding pleasure in things you used to enjoy
  • Avoiding people, thoughts, events or locations to avoid thinking about stressful events

If you are someone you know is feeling compassion fatigue or struggling with the darker side of resiliency, reach out to a local professional, a trusted peer or supervisor.