Thank you so much Alexander, I really appreciate this comment. I have some related thoughts, which are completely separate to the concerns I’ve raised thus far. The following is a reflection on abuse and disclosure more generally (and I hope you won’t mind that I’m using your comment as a jumping off point):
There are definitely social costs to disclosure in general around negative experiences (which I’m so sorry you’ve faced first hand), and especially so when they also involve mental health disclosures. The latter is unfortunate given that sexual assault is relatively common, and further, incidences of PTSD specifically among rape victims are very high (a quick look at a meta from 2021 is showing me 74.6% of survivors meet PTSD criteria one month post-assault. Another study found 94% experienced symptoms within two weeks and about 40% of victims still meeting the criteria after a year).
For me personally, some symptoms included difficulty sleeping, generally elevated anxiety, and difficulty with dissociation. For many months, I felt unusually detached from my surroundings and it was difficult to reliably access negative emotions. I also found it harder to focus for extended periods of time in a way I hadn’t experienced previously. One example of a concrete way this did impact my work: I found it hard not to zone out in long group meetings, which is not something I’d previously struggled with. Thankfully, I discussed this with my direct manager. He was supportive and encouraged me to flag without embarrassment if I had missed something a team member said. In general, my teammates were fantastic and supportive, though most of them had no awareness of what was happening (only direct managers did). They’re just naturally kind.
Anyways, I say all of this because I don’t want others to feel alone. I don’t want victims to be terrified to admit that assault does affect your health and it can take months or even years to fully recover. Talking about this stuff is scary. I’m so grateful for all the kind and empathetic support I’ve been receiving in response to this post. I hope we can continue to support victims, both in public and in private. And especially when it’s scary or uncomfortable.
Ivy — I haven’t yet had the chance to read this thread in detail nor the linked article (disclaimer that I have not opened the linked article nor read it yet), I’ve only been able to give the thread a full first pass. Thus, I felt I should refrain from commenting. But then, I realised if I don’t leave something now, there’s a strong chance I won’t remember to come back to this. And one of the very dynamics I find sad is: victims who discuss their experiences and logical arguments publicly often resonate with so many readers, but this is not visible because those readers are likely moving quickly and won’t necessarily wade into a public discourse.
So, to echo some of the points you’ve already raised: Hypothetically, let’s say there is a person who fits the quoted description of a “trauma junkie.” The idea that we should have to engage seriously with a subsequent argument that, at some point, equates the need to “isolate” such a person with the need to “isolate” a rapist is deeply worrying. Rape is a profound and violent removal of one’s autonomy and humanity that results in incredibly high instances of PTSD. Rape is a felony charge, and for good reason. Often times in these discussion, it’s missed that some people (i.e., likely the author of the linked post, based on the quoted sections) simply do not think rape is “that” bad and thus they find it congruent to make such careless statements or equations. But in that case, I’m left unable to engage productively because that’s an irreconcilable and fundamental disagreement. I think rape is horrifying and the act of committing rape is horrifying, in quite literally any “context.” I don’t think rape is anything remotely close to as bad as the behaviour of a described “trauma junkie,” though I agree that the described “trauma junkie” behaviour is bad and anti social.
I’d also like to say, there is a terrible circular logic that so often crops up when it comes to using trauma to discredit victims. I wish more people would read about trauma and understand its affects with more clarity and nuance. If Person A breaks Person B’s leg, we do not suddenly discredit Person B as “hysterical” in their perspective because of the pain of their broken leg. Because, of course their leg is broken. Person A broke it. But, if Person A assaults Person B, resulting in trauma, we use the affects and pain of that trauma to discredit Person B so readily as a society. If we decide that victims are unreliable, by the nature of them being victims and not their actual individual behaviour, then we’re both putting the entire class of victims in an impossible situation and we’re falling back to approx. 1950s sexist talking points. Sometimes, I feel so stuck having to argue at a level I simply disagree with. On a meta level, I want us to fundamentally take abuse seriously and understand the actual literature, which shows that sexual assault is incredibly common, whereas false reports have happened and can, but they are not a prevalent issue at this time and no where near as rampant as reported rates of assault.
On a purely personal level: I teared up at the idea of disclosing my sexual assault and being met with the response you’ve faced. I’m so so beyond sorry. I feel like as a victim, there’s this pressure to have to discuss your own assault in a completely detached, third-party observational, logical way. We rarely get to include our very real emotions or ask for extra respect, sensitivity, and awareness given the circumstances, with no actual expectation that people change the substance of their arguments. But some demonstration of compassion should be the very baseline expectation, and I find anything less cruel and unproductive. Otherwise, it makes conversations terribly asymmetric: outside observers can simply make their arguments with no personal stake, while the victim has to make both airtight arguments (fine) and somehow try to hold the very visceral lived experience of what happened and how it affected them and lives in them. So anyways, I just wanted to express a bit of clear, public support that the parts I was able to read thus far made utter sense and I can’t imagine what you’ve had to carry or how disgusting it must have been to read the quotes you’ve shared, and I’m sorry and my heart is with you.
[Edit: I engaged critically with some of the quoted passages, but I want to be clear that I think writing such quoted passages in passive response to a disclosure of sexual assault is cruel and disgusting in my personal opinion.]