6 Poor Coping Mechanisms Which Made My Trauma Worse
Avoidance never works.
“Is he ok?” I slowly opened my eyes to see two women bent down, looking at me with concern. I’d collapsed in an alley after drinking myself into oblivion and was now lying in my own sick.
I could’ve been robbed or worse, so I was fortunate that it was kind strangers who noticed me. Eventually, my friend found me and got me into a taxi home.
I used to get in this state frequently. I did it to block out traumatic memories, and for the first hour or so, it worked. But then the demons and depression came back with a vengeance.
Alcohol is a terrible coping mechanism, and yet police officers use it more than any other method. It’s a depressant, interacts badly with medication, and leads to its own problems.
Unfortunately, alcohol isn’t the only way people self-medicate. There are many harmful methods; people must know what to do instead.
Just a quick reminder—my limited-time 20% discount on paid subscriptions expires in just a few hours.
1. Escapism
The American Psychology Association defines escapism as “the tendency to escape from the real world to the safety and comfort of a fantasy world.
Escapism has a strong link to drinking, smoking, and drug use. It serves as a motive or amplifier of addictive behaviors.
The problem with escapism is you can’t run forever. The pain you’re running from is locked inside your brain, and wherever you go, there you are. Your trauma’s still waiting for you.
Only now it’s worse because you feel weak from running.
The only way around trauma is through it. It took me 20 years to confront the cause of my PTSD. Until I did, it took everything from me.
2. Numbing
Emotional numbness means a person is unable to experience emotions. The main signs of such numbness include feeling disconnected from one’s body or thoughts and having difficulty connecting with others.
Numbing happens unconsciously. Our minds disconnect from our thoughts, actions, sense of self, and sensory experience. Emotional numbing is the third and lesser-known alternative to “fight or flight.” It’s where you freeze. Your brain is protecting you from being overloaded.
Police work is so traumatic and grinding that I quickly became numb to the suffering of others. I started my career feeling victim’s emotions so painfully that my brain couldn’t take it anymore.
I’m ashamed to say I started seeing victims as an inconvenience. I saw them whining about problems I didn’t consider a big deal. When a serious event happened, like a murder or suicide, I felt nothing.
Think about that. I’ve had someone die in front of me, and I felt NOTHING.
I saw the same thing with victims of domestic violence. Some were utterly resigned to their fate and were so matter-of-fact about the most horrific circumstances it was hard to put the words to the events. They were numb to being beaten and abused.
Like the dogs in the experiment who stopped avoiding the electric shocks because they were inevitable. Learned helplessness.
Other people seek to numb through drugs and alcohol. Numbing sounds like a great idea when we’re in pain, but it makes your life a big, flat chore. Everything’s boring, and nothing matters. Is that preferable to pain?
Instead of numbing, find the courage to feel. It took me years away from police work to rediscover my empathy and connection to the world. I had to feel the pain, grieve my losses, and find a way to survive.
It takes courage to surrender to the unknown, but the reward is a life of emotion. Life as a human instead of a robot.
3. Risk-taking
Studies have shown that people with PTSD engage in significantly more risk-taking behaviors than the average person and more aggressive substance use and violent behavior.
My favorite incidents to attend as a police officer were fights or people with weapons. Part of my nature is that I enjoyed the aggressive side of policing, but I also didn’t care much about what might happen to me.
I saw it as a win-win. If the suspect attacked me and I won, I’d done a good deed. If I lost, I got the beat down I felt I deserved.
Risk-taking is part of a successful life. Nothing good comes easy, and pushing the comfort zone always entails risk. When the risk gets out of hand, you should worry — when you hate yourself so much you don’t care about consequences.
What’s your reason for living? Who would you miss if you weren’t around? What do you still want to achieve in life?
Remember the answers to these questions, and you can get through anything.
4. Sleeping too much
PTSD may cause “hypersomnia,” which is also known as excessive daytime sleepiness. This may be because your nervous system, which controls your body’s response to stress, is not working correctly.
At the peak of my depression, I was sleeping 15 hours a day. While I was asleep, I wasn’t in pain. I spent the remaining waking hours attempting to drink myself to death anyway, and I’d have slept the whole 24 hours if I could.
Apart from the blissful release of sleep, getting up is hard if you have nothing worth getting up for. I’d lost the career of my dreams due to PTSD, had no hobbies, and no idea what I wanted to do with my life.
I could either get up and go through the herculean effort of getting washed, dressed, and brushing my teeth just to dwell on insurmountable problems. Or I could turn over and go back to sleep.
It was a no-brainer.
How much are you sleeping? While we all need slightly different amounts, you may have an issue if it’s less than 7 hours or more than 9. Sleep should set us up for the day, not take over.
5. Impulsive spending
PTSD increases the risk of “emotional dysregulation.” One way this plays out is through unnecessary and impulsive spending.
When I was first medically retired at 27, I spent years doing nothing through depression and PTSD. I built up a decent amount of money when I was desperate to feel something. Alcohol had failed, but maybe I could buy my way out of my misery.
I bought a BMW. The problem? I hated driving, wasn’t good at it, and had no interest in cars.
In my mind, I’d drive around, and people would think I was a big shot. Maybe that feeling would rub off on me, and I wouldn’t feel like the worst person in the world.
In reality, there were very few places I could go, and I was reminded of trauma everywhere. I crashed the car into my parent’s fence on the first day. Doing so cut angry grooves down the sides and burst two tires.
In no time, I gave the car to my mum, who still has it to this day.
I also squandered money away on bed linen until I realized I couldn’t buy my way out of pain.
Be conscious of why you are buying things. Do you need them, or are you filling a void?
6. Overeating
At the start of my illness, I was fit and athletic. I trained whenever I had days or evenings off and took pride in my appearance.
Then, a psychiatrist prescribed Olanzapine as an anti-psychotic to combat my newly diagnosed schizophrenia. Weight gain is a potent side effect. I gained 85 pounds in a year.
Another cruel blow. During that time, I became addicted to eating. I stopped eating as fuel when I was hungry and started eating as an emotional crutch.
No matter how bad I felt, I had food to look forward to. And it was never salad. I don’t know why healthy foods don’t hit the mark, but the only foods that lifted some of my depression were full of calories and sugar.
Just like with alcohol, any boost I got from overeating was short-lived. By the following day, I’d feel like a fat slob, and I’d shame myself until I overrated again and continued the cycle.
I still struggle with food addiction to this day. Alcohol was bad, but I gave it up entirely. I can’t do that with food, so I face this demon multiple times every day.
Again, become conscious of your motivations. Are you eating from hunger or finding another way to fill the void?
Conclusions: Healthy coping mechanisms
All of the above unhealthy coping mechanisms have one thing in common — they’re used to distract you from the real problem. They mask the pain you’re too scared to face.
Imagine how scary that pain must be. You’d rather be broke, drunk, and lie in a gutter than confront the pain inside you.
Yet the pain never goes away; only now you have to deal with being broke and drunk as well.
Instead, consider these coping strategies:
Take breaks from listening to the news
Take care of your body
Find time to relax
Talk to a trusted loved one
Recognize when you need professional help
I find the news traumatic and enraging. When I switch off from it, I can focus on the small part of the world where I can make an impact — my family and my writing. I’m better off not knowing about the rest.
I’ve recently lost 20lbs of the weight I’d gained. My body thanks me for it every day. Funnily enough, I can relax better now I don’t ache so much.
My loved ones have saved my life on many occasions. I wouldn’t be here without them.
Although the professionals haven’t always been good for me, they did prescribe the medication, which set me on the road to recovery. Medication saved my life.
You can’t outrun pain. You can’t drink, sleep, or spend your way out of it. The only way is through.
Helped me self-reflect...Thanks for sharing