Trauma is not a competition

May is Mental Health Month, so I am going to honour it by doing another post about it.

Several things have happened in the world and in my personal circle in the past couple of weeks that have highlighted to me that we often want to compare trauma.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m not saying people are interested in sitting in a circle comparing experiences like hockey trading cards. It’s more subtle than that because it’s often hidden behind something else.

Sometimes it sounds like:

“Well other people have it worse.”

“At least that didn’t happen to you.”

“You should be over that by now.”

Or the one many of us tell ourselves:

“I shouldn’t feel this affected because others have suffered more.”

But trauma does not work on a ranking system.

Research in psychology has shown for years that people respond to trauma differently based on many factors including; support systems, previous experiences, workplace culture, childhood experiences, nervous system responses, and whether they ever felt safe enough to process what happened in the first place. Two people can experience the exact same event and carry it very differently. That does not make one weak and the other strong. It makes them human.

I talk about this in Tightrope, but for many years in my police career I used my own exposure to trauma and my ability to keep working without taking time to process or heal as the standard I thought everyone else should at least be trying to meet.

When I was part of a graphic file, whether that was child abuse, a horrific car accident, a horrible scene, or sexual trauma, I always did the file and made sure I was back at work ready and willing to take the next one. When the trauma was being gaslit, bullied, or sexually harassed at work, I did the same thing,  pushed it all down and kept going.

I was not the only one who did this. Many, if not most, did this.

So when a file happened and someone in the group said they needed to take a “pause” or a few days to process it, I was often judgemental with a silent eye roll because in my mind I was saying: “I would like to pause too, but we can’t.”

It turns out not only can we pause, but we should.

The reality is that unprocessed trauma does not disappear simply because we ignore it. Studies continue to show that chronic exposure to trauma without support can lead to burnout, depression, anxiety, substance misuse, emotional numbness, relationship struggles, and physical health problems. First responders in particular have significantly higher rates of PTSD and mental health injuries than the general public, yet many still work in cultures where “pushing through” is treated like a badge of honour.

I was following the lead of years of officers before me. What I didn’t see were officers in positions of authority supporting or taking the pause themselves. So I thought it was frowned upon.

What we needed was an example of leadership that showed the pause was not just welcome, but necessary if we wanted to keep our most valuable commodity, human beings,  healthy and well.

Our job was not just to seek justice for people. It was to offer safety, protection, and comfort to people in times of need.

We just didn’t do that very well for each other.

Later in my career I learned just how much people around me wanted to see a leader walk the talk when it came to health and wellness. I stepped into that space and there was lots of room there.

Wellness programs and cultures of care are still things that are often talked about more than genuinely practiced or believed in.

So if you are going to take part in mental health initiatives, awareness campaigns, or support programs, then make sure your actions back that up.

There are so many token events that occur. Mental health and caring for people should never be one of those.

If you are fortunate enough to have never struggled mentally in your life, then congratulations,  I am truly happy for you. But please understand that your experience is not universal. Just because you have walked through life one way does not mean the people walking beside you have had the same path.

Your own trauma story, regardless of what it is, matters to you. But your story does not negate, override, or undermine someone else’s.

One person’s trauma does not become less painful because another person suffered differently.

Trauma is not a competition. Pain is not a contest. Healing is not weakness.

Both can be painful. Both deserve compassion. Both deserve space to be talked about without having to “one up” each other on value or importance.

Let’s not lose sight of that.