Counseling and psychotherapy for individuals, couples and families.

The Weight of the Story

Sarah Higgins • Dec 03, 2019

Trigger warning—Domestic violence, neglect, physical & sexual assault, suicidal ideation, immigration trauma, PTSD. The following contains brief accounts of my work with clients over the past 10 years. The examples used do not represent one client or student and have been generalized to protect confidentiality.

As many of you know I recently relocated to Richmond. In the move one of the hardest parts was leaving my team and many of the people that have held me up considerably throughout my career. I was fortunate to have most of my team come to visit this past weekend and after they left I found myself more emotional than usual and it got me thinking. What makes my relationship(s) with them so special? Why is it so hard to meet a new group here in RVA? And then it hit me. What started our relationship together, and what has maintained it, has been the shared experience of the “weight” of the stories of the many children we have served. Having people that can share that weight is rare, and it is special.

Helping professionals often have a hard time connecting with others outside of work because they are often emotionally and physically exhausted. Most of us spend 8-10 hours a day at work, and that is a big chunk of who we are. It’s always been hard for me to answer the question “what do you do?” Over the years I have changed my answer to be short and sweet, and I got used to saying “I work for the schools” and I move on. This is because what I really do is really hard to hear for most people, and the truth is they don’t want to know. In addition to that, I’m often legally prevented from sharing my experiences. Confidentiality is incredibly important to me, and outside of professional supervision it is rare that I am actually able to share the full details of the people that I serve. While I am grateful every day to be in a position to help facilitate change, there is a weight that comes with the work, and it is with you always.

I have been simultaneously enraged and deeply saddened after a full day of court, where the big people who brought the little people into the world AND the system that was supposed to be their safety net let them down in an epic way, and I was powerless. I have rocked a child to sleep who was beyond “rocking age” after they were up all night watching their parents engage in violence. I have listened and pretended like it wasn’t breaking my heart when students or parents would tell me their family members had been murdered by the gangs in their home countries. I have listened and pretended not to be surprised that it’s possible for an elementary school age child to walk to America from another country. I have waited for the police and CPS at school until late into the night with children that cannot go home because their abuser was waiting. I have paid for countless school lunches and had extra food on hand for those who were not being fed at home. I have learned of a child’s very detailed plan to end their own life that evening with less than 10 minutes left in the day to intervene. I have been the first person to tell a parent that their child was a victim of abuse. I have been the first person to tell a parent that their child has a severe disability and that they will need lifelong support.

I carry these stories each day, and yet I still need to make it to the grocery store after work. I need to meet my friend and be present for birthday drinks. I have to celebrate the holidays with my own family and enjoy it. I need to go home and have dinner with my husband and remember to ask him about his day. The weight of the work can make the smallest most basic things hard to do, and yet they must still be done.

I don’t share this because I feel sorry for myself, and I am not looking for praise. This is truly the job I signed up to do every day, and I wouldn’t trade it or change it. The resilience of the human brain and body is astounding and I am honored that so many trust me enough to share their truth. I am constantly in awe of the fact that despite it all, there is still much hope to be had in this work. However, we have to start acknowledging the weight of the stories that helping professionals are carrying. We can’t expect them to hold space for all the people that need them, if we don’t make space in our world to hear them too and make self-care the standard of care instead of the rare exception.

For me, self-care looks like engaging in professional supervision on a regular basis. It also looks like attending my own therapy to manage the many emotions that come along with a helping role as well as my own story. It looks like a group text with my bffs to send stupid memes to break up the heaviness of the day. It looks like Crossfit several days a week, making all my meals for the week on Sunday (which sucks) and a gallon of water a day. To be honest, it looks like really hard work that I am constantly reevaluating and changing to fit my needs and what is possible in my life at that time. Each person and what they need is different, and it has taken me many years to feel secure with my plan and secure with changing it when I need to. My hope is that we are moving towards a world where the mental and physical health of helping professionals is a priority and is supported and facilitated by the organizations that are asking so much of their people. But until that day comes, if you are a teacher, nurse, clinician, first responder, military personnel, or other helping professional, you are not going crazy. The weight of the story is real, and it is heavy.

16 Apr, 2021
*****Trigger warning, gun violence & PTSD***** 14 years ago today, the person I was before April 16, 2007, died. I remember walking to my friend’s car after the memorial which took place the day after the shootings, hearing a Nickelback song on the radio and recognizing that the world I had previously lived in was gone. It left without warning, without apology, and without the chance to say goodbye. I felt like a stranger in my own body, and I didn’t recognize the world that I was now living in. In one swift moment, I now knew that safety and control were an illusion, bad things happen to good people, and no, not everything happens for a reason. Things happen, often without reason, without logic, and without any fairness at all. Saying goodbye to family members as they left for work or school was never the same. Entering a classroom or any room with no exterior exits was never the same. Entertaining ideas about what my life would look like as I grew older, was never the same. After all, would I even grow old? It also became extremely difficult to socialize with anyone who had not also experienced that event. It was like I couldn’t navigate joining with anyone who hadn’t also realized that the world was awful and safety was nothing but an illusion. It was like what I defined as “regular people” couldn’t handle it. I would think to myself “how can I be here drinking this marg when 32 people are dead, and I got lucky?” And on the flip side…”okay I’ll have 6 margs because you only get one life so screw it.” It became challenging to be carefree, to go with the flow, to take any risks at all. It’s like my body thought if I wasn’t in control 100% of the time, or it experienced even the tiniest fragment of joy, my personal safety could be ripped away at any moment so why even go there? My body largely toggled between overall numbness and detachment and overwhelming sadness, anxiety and rage. There was not much of an in between. Everything felt so unsafe ALL THE TIME, but the hardest part was, I didn’t cognitively recognize any of this at the time. In fact, on the outside I was extremely high functioning. Good grades, check. Regular party going, check. Supportive boyfriend, check. Looked like I had my shit together, check. But I wasn’t sleeping, I wasn’t fully present in any part of my life, and I was unknowingly living in a constant state of anxiety and panic. When I did get help, my family history of anxiety and depression along with what I self described as overall anxiety was chalked up to being a pretty typical generalized anxiety disorder by the medical professionals that treated me. Great, except they were wrong. It wouldn’t be until over 10 years later that I fully recognized the impact that event (and unfortunately several others) had on my brain and my body. I had PTSD, and it was bad. I am not unique. Every survivor of an acute traumatic event will at some point be able to identify the loss of their “before” identity. This can take minutes, hours, days, or even years after an event. The you before a shooting and after is different. The you before war, and after war is different. The you before an assault and after an assault will be different. The you before your loss, and after your loss will be different. The you before the divorce, and after the divorce is different. The list goes on, but it is important for not only victims but their loved ones to recognize. Even more complicated, someone that experiences repeated traumatic events or complex trauma, may never have the chance to connect to any sense of self or identity at all because the world and how they experience it has become so fragmented and is endlessly unpredictable. They don’t have time to figure out who they are or how they want to show up in the world. They are busy surviving and that’s all their body can do. For many survivors they are often encouraged to work towards “getting back to normal.” While well intentioned, that’s a very hard thing for them to do because their normal is gone and it won’t be back. It also sets an unrealistic expectation that like a light switch their pain will one day be gone, they will all of a sudden return to their normal level of functioning. This is not how healing happens. Healing happens slowly over time and for some people can be a lifelong process. It’s a supportive process that requires the integration of the grief of what one once knew with the optimism and acceptance that life will move forward and a new self will emerge. That new self may still have pain, they may still have work to do, but they can have the capacity to feel safe in their bodies and in the world. Reestablishing safety is the most powerful part, because once we feel safe, our bodies and our minds become open to experience the full range of emotions, joy included. Even though I am a therapist, I am open with my clients that I have had my own life experiences, and I have had to do my own work. I cannot fathom asking someone to walk through their trauma journey with me, when I have not done the work myself. Thankfully, after several years of hard work in therapy, and a rock star support system I am in recovery from my PTSD. It is possible to heal and to step into a new sense of self, one that is integrated with your trauma. I work hard every day to help support my clients in seeing this as true for themselves. I firmly believe that everyone is worth the effort it takes to find joy and they do not have to do it alone. For those who are suffering from trauma, and are working towards reconciling who they were before, and who they are now know I offer this: Give yourself space and time to grieve your former self. You don’t have to jump right to “the past is the past so why dwell?” You can acknowledge that you are sad that person and the life you had during that space and time is gone. You can even grieve something you never had. Remember that no one experiences trauma the exact same way, even if they lived through the same event(s). If another victim is in a different place with their healing, that is okay. You do you. Reestablishing safety in the body after trauma requires calming the nervous system. No amount of talking about an event will do this. If you have the resources to go to therapy DO IT. Stop avoiding it. Trauma gets bigger and harder to treat the further it is stuffed down. EMDR Therapy specifically is a specialized approach that is a game changer in trauma treatment. Check out the EMDRIA website to learn more and to search for a provider in your area. If therapy is not your thing, or you don’t have the resources for it at the moment, other effective means of calming the nervous system include meditation, yoga, coloring, singing, dancing, daily exercise, massage, acupuncture, reiki, and craniosacral therapy. Avoid social isolation. Social isolation is often the body’s go to way of protecting itself and is a form of the “freeze” survival response. It’s okay to take space and time when you need it, but fight the urge to consistently self-isolate, and push away those that are trying to help. They want to help, and they will do their best to support you if you let them. It may not go perfectly, but if they are trying, keep them in your life.
By Sarah Higgins 08 Feb, 2021
Parenting, relationships, and functioning in adult life are hard.  Parenting, managing relationships, and adulting in a pandemic? Well that's a whole other thing that I'm not even sure we have a name for yet.  You are feeling like everyone is wanting something from you but you have nothing left to give.  You are mentally and physically exhausted, yet somehow are having trouble sleeping.  By the time the morning comes you know you have to get up, but it feels as though it is an impossible task and you would like nothing better than to pull the covers up over your head and hide from the world a little while longer.Once you are up, the nerves set in and your mind and heart race as you wonder what else is going to happen to you, to your family, or in the world today.  Everyone says to get out of your head, increase social contact, get some exercise, take deep breaths and put one foot in front of the other, but you don't even know how to start doing that.  It all feels so overwhelming.  Well that's where I come in.  I specialize in helping adults navigate the never ending maze of parenting, relationships, and the daily life stressors that just never seem to let up.  Click below to schedule a session with me and let's work together to find a starting point.  Cliché or not, starting is the hardest part.  Once we get that out of the way, we will work side by side to create a safe space for you to express thoughts and feelings, develop manageable and sustainable strategies for coping, and get back to feeling like you have the energy to do this thing called life.  Can't wait to meet you! Request Appointment
By Sarah Higgins 04 Apr, 2020
One day in mid-March many teachers got the word that their schools would be closed for about 2 weeks. While still anxiety provoking, this they could handle. They told the little people they would see them soon and that they would miss them. They grabbed a few things from their classrooms and went home. For some, after having exactly 0 snow days, this actually felt like a welcome relief and some time to recharge. They had no idea they would not be coming back, and they had no idea they would not see some of those students ever again.
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