Silence.

There are many reasons why a person decides that it is better to keep silence.

Dissociation is a survival mechanism. 

The question, what is so dangerous about remembering and speaking out -  is hijacked by the myth of self sufficiency. We are supposed to be enough for ourselves. Distress is framed as a temporary upset. We are advised to seek therapy so that we heal and can move on - it isn't our place to try to change anything outside of ourselves...

Sorry, what?!

So if you see someone hitting another person repeatedly you don't need to phone for the police? You don't need to do anything except take care of you?

OK...

Yes, I'm struggling, for there are very good reasons why just leaving this account here, pretending it isn't me, is the safest and most sensible option. Except when I felt my eyes brim with tears just through reading the words, logical positivism [+]. This confirms that if something isn't faced up to, I am self abandoning, enacting something I don't believe, and acting in accord with the idea that I'm not worth fighting for. 

Clearly I don't believe that. 

So I don't have the option of walking away and ignoring.

I'm going to look over the edge into the abyss...

And extract the arguments that maintain silence.

1. I can't bring public shame upon the community. This occurs a lot within spiritual abuse. Talking about the harm you know is being perpetrated by a fellow practitioner, or a beloved teacher could be framed as your lack of compassion, forgiveness, wisdom or love. Therapists feel this. We don't wish to bring our profession into disrepute. I feel this every time I write here. The version of this lock-down process I know best is Tibetan Buddhism. If a person with Vajrayana vows suggests that their teacher is causing harm - they have destroyed their vows.  A person who dares to do this will experience loss of companionship, loss of friends, loss of status, and in their own eyes - what happens next? Leaving after investing so much time, so much hope...on and on it goes - Sogyal Rinpoche's beatings and the sexual abuse were framed as enlightened activity - literally he would hit people 'for their own good' (is how he explained it) violence defined as 'wrathful' enlightening acts of compassion. The logic goes like this: if you don't understand, you cannot become enlightened. The same theme runs in therapy, not to the same obviously unreasonable extent, but it is there. 

2. There is a moral dimension to being loyal or submissive. A good practitioner is taught to remain silent about abuse. It becomes normal. People who speak out are seen as disruptive, ignorant, troublemakers.

3. I need to protect the abuser. Unable to sever the bond, I will abandon myself to save them. Love, even when twisted out of shape and beaten black and blue protects and cares for the beloved. So when that person is a family member, when the abuser is someone the victim cares deeply about, it is impossible not to feel concern for the abuser’s state of mind, their health, their ability to work, the negative consequences of saying anything at all about the abuse. When my son was smashing up the house and threatening me, I dare not phone the police. I'd literally rather have been killed than do that. Same with my first husband, I took whatever and tried to live with it. This isn't weakness. There is no lack of strength when a victim does this, but if you are doing this, you are suffering to keep hope alive, trusting in a better version of the abuser. Unfortunately at this moment, the better version doesn't exist and you really are being harmed.

4.  If I speak up I risk being labelled as mentally ill. Yes, you do. Usually BPD. Though I've come across people being told that they are over-reacting because of their ASD, or whatever concept of neurodivergence is the easiest to fit into the defensive reframe the abuser thinks fits you best. Damage is done to reputation, and to the victims understanding of themselves as the abuser compassionately explains to you and others how you are selfish, vindictive, mentally ill, just seeking attention. 

You get the picture.

5. No one will believe me, my credibility will be called into question. And others will join in, especially when the abuser is seen as a good person of good standing. The victim's account is immediately discredited. 

6. Expect to be blamed for the abuse. So many victims have been made to believe their abuse was self-inflicted or deserved. This is a real phenomenon..

7. I have left it too late! Time limits are placed on reporting abuse. It can take years for a person to recover enough to dare to open up the wounds again. When people ask, “Why did it take you so long to report this?” the implication is that the survivor was fine with what happened to them, and they can't remember.. 

8.  I am scared of the response. The silence of others is unspeakably painful. Friends and family, colleagues will abandon the victim. Expect anger as well, your account will be called betrayal. Facts are drowned out by emotion.

9. The threat of lawsuits. Victims are threatened and told not to go public with their story. Survivors fear losing their jobs, legal expenses, and ruining future job opportunities. They have every reason to be afraid. 

10. Potential condemnation for going public. Usually victims only go public when other ways to appeal are blocked.

OK, so now I have to find my voice. I have set aside two whole days to write what needs to be said and taken outside of this blog - it terrifies me. Mostly I think, I'm scared of silence. Except I can't imagine a good outcome regardless of how gently and careful, truthful and understanding I try to be. 

I want to climb into my bed and wait for Monday...