FINDING MY VOICE
Over several years of online networking with many other
therapists who are also survivors I have gained a deeper appreciation
of two separate issues which can combine to leave survivor therapists
feeling profoundly isolated by our experience of both of these roles.
First, professional boundary considerations often exclude us from
accessing the support of survivor communities, whether through online
or face to face groups. Face to face survivor support groups may be
perceived as completely "out of bounds" (particularly in small rural
communities) and even online survivor support forums which encourage
anonymity may still present potential boundary confusions.
Therapeutic relationships are qualitatively different to the
reciprocal relationships needed in mutual support groups (ie. both
parties equally giving and receiving personal support), and yet in
online anonymous support communities there is no way to be certain
that a reciprocal relationship has not unknowingly been formed with a
past, present or future client (a fact which may then be incidentally
discovered*). As well trained psychologists/therapists we have been
taught to keep our own issues to ourselves within the therapeutic
relationship, in order to ensure the safe context essential for our
clients' healing. There are many good reasons to carefully protect
professional boundaries and the protection of our clients within the
boundaries of a therapeutic relationship must always remain of
paramount concern. For example, while many survivors appreciate
knowing that their therapist is a trauma survivor,others prefer not
to know this, and most (including myself) prefer not to know any
details.
However there is also the issue of professional stigma which can
keep survivor therapists isolated not only from other survivors in
general but also from each other. I believe this issue needs to be
exposed for the blatant prejudice it helps to perpetuate against all
survivors. Not only will most survivor-therapists feel excluded from
survivor support communities by boundary concerns, but most will
never consider it wise to publicly acknowledge themselves as
survivors even within their own professional circle of colleagues.
Those who do so often experience society's prejudice entrenched
throughout the "mental health"profession itself. Sometimes this
prejudice is actually institutionalised in the guise of
professionalism. In my own state in Australia, a disclosure in the
workplace of one's own abuse history can apparently form the sole
grounds for dismissal for some Department of Health employees. Mostly
though, the prejudice endemic within the mental health industry is
more subtle. Especially likely to be shunned or to have their
competence questioned by professional colleagues and supervisors are
those of their own ranks, who by owning their trauma history,
challenge the much cherished but often illusory differentiation
between those who are mental health professionals and those who are
trauma survivors. This schism is also reflected in most psychotherapy
literature, where those who are professionally competent therapists
and those who are trauma survivor clients are invariably portrayed as
if mutually exclusive. As one of many alternating between the "chair"
of a survivor client and that of a trauma therapist, and working hard
to reconcile these competing realities within my own life, I now find
myself compelled to do what I can to challenge the stigma behind this
myth.
Elysha (pen name)
Psychologist / Survivor
"finding my voice"