Tightrope of Sharing

Opening up to others about one’s traumatic experiences is an essential part of the recovery process from post-traumatic stress (Frattaroli, 2006). It’s associated with physical health benefits (Pennebaker et al., 1988), a decrease in perceived distress and an increase in self-resilience (Hemenover, 2003). 

So, a sorrow shared undoubtedly seems to be a sorrow halved, but who’s brave enough to listen? In recent years, the term ‘trauma dumping ’coined by social media platforms, has been enjoying an increase in attention and usage. It aims to describe the phenomenon of people disclosing their lived traumatic experiences without priorly obtaining their listener’s consent– either in person or digitally. Urban Dictionary nonchalantly defines it as ‘When some asshole dumps a bunch of their past trauma on you. Especially when it’s unexpected or at inappropriate timing.’ (Urban Dictionary, 2022).  

The spite contained in the metaphor of ‘trauma dumping’ has never failed to splash the bitter images of cruelty, selfishness, and especially blame onto the canvas of my imagination. It seems to paint a new villain out of somebody vulnerable and brave enough to open up about their past. It trivialises trauma by completely disregarding that it’s a person’s response to witnessing or experiencing horrifying events. Events, which are often re-lived through flashbacks, can strain relationships, and even cause reoccurring physiological complaints (APA, 2013). Still, it does relate to an experience most of you probably all too often had: some family member, acquaintance or even stranger breaking out into a monologue about a painful past or current experience without even pausing to consider the impact it might have on you. Leaving the conversation, you feel drained, overwhelmed, or perhaps even violated. Left to ponder over what you just heard for the next couple of days.     

In all it stands for, the term ‘trauma dumping’ creates an emotional ambivalence. It prompts a two-sided discussion about responsibility: one we have towards our listeners when disclosing traumatic experiences, and one we have as a society, in the way we choose to treat those with a history of trauma. It stresses how solace can be a balancing act between demanding support, respecting boundaries, and validating the emotions of others.

Sharing traumatising topics without obtaining consent or giving prior (trigger-) warnings can be inconsiderate, and perhaps even selfish. It goes without saying (and, hopefully, also without further discussion) that consent should always be a major part of our interpersonal relationships, be it in person or on social media. One should always be given the choice of when and what to listen to, as being confronted with other people’s recounts of trauma can be heavily impactful. Individuals suffering from PTSD are especially vulnerable to experiencing distress triggered by external reminders of trauma (Boysen, 2017). Even without a history of PTSD, exposure to the trauma of others can lead to symptoms, such as difficulties with sleeping, heightened irritability, and recurrent intrusive memories (Lerias & Byrne, 2003). 

This phenomenon has been found to occur in clinicians frequently exposed to their clients’ trauma, ‘Vicarious trauma’, in emergency workers after witnessing another person’s traumatic experience, ‘Secondary traumatic distress’, and in the immediate social environment of trauma victims, ‘Compassion fatigue‘ (Branson, 2019). Although, just as going through a traumatic event yourself is rarely followed by the development of PTSD (Boysen, 2017), not everyone exposed to vicarious accounts of trauma will suffer from the above. Still, it is not without reason that we sometimes feel strained after providing emotional support and showing empathy. 

Though often taken for granted, this is a form of emotional work that requires us to consistently regulate our own emotions and the emotions of those opening up to us (Strazdins, 2000). Emotional work, which is disproportionately performed by women (Duncombe & Marsden, 1995), has been found to be related to heightened (family) stress (Erickson & Wharton, 1997) and depressive symptoms (Strazdins & Broom, 2007). Yet, at closer inspection, these negative effects on mental health occur predominantly when the support given is not returned by its recipient (Antonucci & Jackson, 1990) and the relationship overall lacks an interchange of positive emotions (Strazdins & Broom, 2007). 

The above shouldn’t have come as a surprise to anyone. Naturally, being confronted with accounts of trauma will affect us. This, however, shouldn’t necessarily mean that people ought to refrain from sharing. 

 Yet, it suggests a setting in which it is most appropriate to do so: one of consent, knowledge about the listener’s history of trauma, and a willingness to reciprocate the emotional support given to us. 

Is this enough then, to make the bold claim that anyone neglecting these factors should be accused of ’trauma dumping’ and would it make the term any more appropriate?

Somehow, this assumption makes me uneasy. Wouldn’t we, yet again, hold people, who are suffering, responsible for shielding us from the discomforts their accounts of trauma might induce? Are we justified in expecting them to constantly monitor their expression of pain, and if they fail to do so, to vilify their need to share?

These expectations seem to place each person suffering from trauma on a tightrope, where they are forced to be cautious of every step they take so that they might never lose the balance between demanding support and crossing others’ boundaries. Meanwhile, the rest of us are standing at the edge, bawling on terms like ’trauma dumping’, whilst we fail to provide them with the safety net they deserve. 

The ability to recognise when and with whom it is appropriate to share traumatic experiences might come easier to some than it does to others. It has been hypothesised that exposure to chronic stressors and massive social trauma during early childhood can alter the development of brain areas associated with social cognition (Sandi & Haller, 2015). As these alterations are assumed to be an interplay between genetic factors and environmental influences (Sandi & Haller, 2015), only few will experience them. Nevertheless, they might account for a person’s difficulty to interpret social cues and realise in which setting it’s suitable for them to recount their trauma.

Furthermore, ‘trauma dumping’ seems to ignore that disclosing one’s trauma might be a very unpleasant experience with high personal costs. To those sharing, it is often a distressing and painful process forcing confrontation with the negative emotions connected to the experience (Tong et al., 2018). If that weren’t enough already, disclosure -especially for events related to sexual violence or HIV -frequently results in the social stigmatisation of the trauma survivor. As social stigma has been associated with a decrease in self-esteem and life satisfaction, as well as promoting anxiety and depressive symptoms (Quinn & Chaudoir, 2009) it’s not surprising that it predicts a rise in PTSD symptoms as well (Kellezi & Reicher, 2012, Adewuya et. al, 2009). 

This rise is also attributed to the restricted access to social support ensuing stigma. Normally, high levels of social support in a person’s environment can mitigate the negative psychological effects of trauma (Ruggiero et al., 2004). In addition to alleviating distress, disclosing trauma can reduce the intrusion and avoidance symptoms associated with PTSD (Ruggiero et al., 2004). Therefore, it seems evident that as a society we can greatly shape how people experience the aftermath of trauma. 

Yet, ironically, the term ‘trauma dumping’ might actually deter people from performing one of the behaviours most instrumental in their recovery process from post-traumatic stress. By demonising people with the need to share, it might not only create a barricade of guilt between them and their social surroundings but instil the societal belief that justifies us neglecting the obligations we hold towards those suffering from trauma.

The debate around how we choose to deal with trauma goes far deeper than anything I’ve discussed. However, based on the above, I believe that we need to create a healing space as a society in which we can openly talk about trauma. Using terms like ‘trauma dumping’ seems counter-effective as we work towards that goal. But, neglecting the harmful effects of disclosing traumatic experiences without respecting the integrity of one’s listener doesn’t seem any more appropriate.  If we succeed in destigmatizing the existence of trauma and giving people the room to express their pain, we will perhaps spare them from having to share their traumatic experiences in one great rush, as soon as they encounter the smallest glimmer of solace. Hopefully, it will bring us closer to constructively fighting the actual sources of peoples’ trauma instead of making them the villains of their own story.

Having said all that, are you brave enough to listen? <<