Learned helplessness and the lasting effects of complex trauma — and how to begin to heal from it
Complex post traumatic stress disorder is a disorder that isn’t officially in the DSM, although something similar — developmental trauma disorder — has been proposed to be added.
Whilst post traumatic stress disorder is often but not always linked to acute events such as an accident, witnessing a death or tragedy, war, so on and so forth, C-PTSD is, as the name suggests, more complicated.
C-PTSD refers to a form of post traumatic disorder that can arise when people are stuck in long term situations such as continuous poverty, familial abuse, abusive relationships, being prisoners of war or residential school survivors, chronic illness and hospitalisation, and anything in those veins.
Essentially, the situations, however different, have an element in common — the person is stuck for a prolonged time in an unpredictable and harmful situation they cannot escape from. Whilst day to day there may not be acute traumatic events that are easy to pinpoint, the long term suffering in those kinds of environments is what separates C-PTSD from PTSD.
C-PTSD can result in long term and lasting symptoms such as attachment issues, a heightened fight or flight response, poor emotional regulation, memory impairment, lack of impulse control, difficulty with planning and organisation, and a lack of or unstable sense of self.
There are a lot of articles and writings about C-PTSD out there, but I want to talk about a very specific element of it that can be related to an infamous study done in 1967, the study that first shed light on learned helplessness.
Warning for description of animal abuse below.
Most psychology students have probably grown tired of learning about this study, but in short / simply put — Seligman locked dogs in an area where he shocked them with painful electricity. At first, when it hurt, dogs simply jumped over the low fence that was present there in front of them, to escape the pain. However, Seligman kept raising the fence to the point where dogs physically couldn’t get over it. They tried and tried and eventually, they gave up.
The crucial element of this study was that even when the fence was subsequently lowered after that, the dogs still stayed in the painful area, even when a route of escape was, quite literally, right in front of them. Essentially, they had “learned” that they were helpless, that nothing they could do could alleviate what they were going through, and they lost the ability to want to help themselves, or even understand that they can help themselves at all.
Eventually, Seligman and his fellow researchers had to physically pick up the dogs and demonstrate how they could move to escape before the dogs did anything at all.
Similar to what the dogs were put through, sufferers of complex trauma stuck for years in toxic and abusive environments often simply cannot find a way to escape. Coping mechanisms may be adopted to adapt to those environments, but they are often unhealthy and unsustainable. The unsustainbility and futility of some of these efforts only reinforce the belief that nothing they can possibly do can help them.
Human brains are incredibly malleable and change to fit the environments they live in. Those stuck in long term traumatic environments often fall into a chasm of helplessness and loss of control, often to the point where they give up all efforts to help themselves entirely. They “learn” that they have no control, agency, or power over themselves.
The good news is that eventually, some of the people in these situations end up getting out of them, but the damage is often already done. The learned helplessness continues to permeate everything — decision making, self care or the lack of it, the ability to work at long term positive goals for themselves (or once again, the lack thereof).
Subsequently it is also incredibly easy for survivors to be drawn back into the same old damaging toxicity (such as falling into another abusive relationship) simply because those situations are familiar, and also because they may never have really escaped their previous situation — physically yes, mentally and emotionally, maybe not.
Sometimes people get angry at abuse survivors for dropping out of counselling or therapy or not getting help that is “obviously” available. Sometimes, oftentimes, this isn’t because they don’t want to get better. They may just be seeing the world through an incredibly different lens than someone who has not gone through something similar. It’s because after a long time stuck in traumatic situations, it becomes almost impossible to comprehend that an escape route is possible and could be meaningful or effective at all. Any “obvious” treatment route doesn’t look like a route at all.
This whole article has been fairly bleak, but learned helplessness isn’t permanent. As the brain can change to maladapt in unhealthy ways, the brain can also change and learn to adapt in healthier ways. The feeling of a lack of control, agency, and escape can be unlearned — slowly, but surely.
Sometimes, diving right into therapy may not be the only answer. Another fundamental element of recovery has to do with regaining that sense of control — of being taught that the fence has been lowered, and that they are capable of jumping over it.
Some recovery methods could have nothing to do with psychiatry at all. Helping survivors find ways to express themselves and create things with their own hands and mind — such as through art or music — is a way of training the brain to understand that their life is theirs, that they themselves are theirs, and that they are capable of shaping their lives even though previous experiences may have shown otherwise.
“Get a hobby” isn’t a solution, but finding “unconventional” ways of regaining control, of resetting that learned helplessness, may be a core part of recovery that is often glossed over. Tossing CBT and DBT worksheets at patients isn’t futile (and both very popular forms of therapy are incredibly effective in the larger picture), but there is a reason why people who are still fresh out of abusive situations may find it difficult to impossible to complete any therapeutic program at first. It is why implementing areas of self-created agency may be an essential component of therapy.
Having people cook a meal for themselves. Letting them decorate their new apartment. Giving them the space to draw, to write, to compose, to perform. Giving them the space to speak freely and tell their story in their own words and own voice. Getting them involved in groups where they can make a tangible difference — such as in volunteering or peer support groups.
Complex trauma is just as the name suggests — it’s complicated. It is still something that is only beginning to be studied in psychiatry, as a close cousin to post traumatic stress disorder.
However, it is never hopeless for survivors. As understanding begins to grow, so does the light being shed on recovery and why some things work and some things don’t.
I’ll end with a quote from the liner notes of one of the most powerful albums written about abuse and surviving it:
“Made possible by my stepfather, Mike Noonan (1940–2004): may the peace which eluded you in life be yours now
Dedicated to any young men and women anywhere who live with people who abuse them, with the following good news:
you are going to make it out of there alive
you will live to tell your story
never lose hope”
