What I’ve Learned During COVID-19 About Mental Health As a Domestic Violence Survivor
By: Yinda Ayo-Ani
Tags: Domestic Violence, Personal Development, Mental Health, Covid-19

Community:

Joy shared is doubled. Sorrow shared is halved.

— Chinese proverb

I don’t know how many times in the past I’ve tried speaking to people, close people, about my experiences in the past who either couldn’t relate or just simply weren't supportive. Pretty early on in my life, I took this as a rule of thumb and learned how to keep the majority of my feelings to myself.

If you listen to nothing I’ve said prior to this, listen to this — there is always someone out there who can relate to your experiences. According to Pete Walker, the author of “Complex PTSD: From Surviving to Thriving: A Guide and Map for Recovering From Childhood Trauma.”, mutual commiseration is the process between two people that are reciprocally sympathetic to each other’s troubles and difficulties. It is the deepest most intimate channel to intimacy. The irony of 2020 for me is that the more I pushed through the discomfort of sharing even in the face of ambivalence from a few people, the more people I have found who could relate to me. After this story was shared at work three people reached out who had also experienced domestic violence in some form. And I already knew each one of them.

Does this sound familiar? The primary part of you that learned this narrative:

“I’m alone”

“Don’t tell anyone…they won't understand”

“Maybe I’m too broken from my past”

I know where this comes from. And your inner self depended on it in order to survive and get to the point where you are now. So it started as a mechanism to protect you. But now it prevents you from flourishing. Yes, there are people who will run for the hills or quickly change the subject when you talk about anything other than the weather. But it’s also possible that within a few weeks of San Francisco shelter-in-place Facetimes with a friend, you’re both shocked to discover that your childhoods are eerily similar.

It is unequivocally not true that you are entirely alone. But it is also unequivocally true that after years of abandonment or trauma, you don’t believe it.

I won’t minimize your feelings because they are entirely valid and have helped you get this far. But what if it’s possible that as you slowly open up, you can start to build genuine friendships? “When we share what is emotionally important to us, we learn to connect with others in a meaningful and healing way. This applies to sharing concerns that excite and please us, as well as those that frighten or depress us. ” (Walker 2018). Slowly after I shared this letter at work ‘my people’ started to come from all sorts of places. My acupuncturist who I’ve only known for two months, but whose experiences mirrored mine in her 20’s, broke out in a huge smile and clapped in joy after I told her I had finally found an apartment just before Christmas to stay in during COVID-19. She understood the depth of meaning having a home (and therefore, a sense of safety) meant to us. Multiple times this year I’ve been awed at how unfiltered authenticity has been rewarded (by the right people). Where did these people come from with such a deep well of compassion…and were they here this whole time?

I know what it’s like to isolate when you’re struggling. Always dare to be seen. Let people who have earned your trust know how you’re actually doing. If someone says “You can call me anytime!” but when you do they’re nowhere to be found, that sucks. But I’ve learned that if 9 people don’t come through, the 10th person will. You don’t have to be anyone other than who you are to get someone to understand you. Let’s challenge, “I’m fine.” Test the waters with new people. And open up to those who reciprocate your openness. Letting the people who have the capacity to care for you in a healthy and loving way know about what’s going on in your internal world is a gift. And be there with 100% presence to listen to them too. They will be your most supportive cheerleaders. And watch how the embers of hope begin to burn.

Knowledge:

I hear from some of you that these days it’s a struggle to make it out of bed, much less out the door for a run. I think of buying a Peloton for a dual workout with my manager during our check-ins but let’s be real, it’s more likely to become an expensive hat rack. So I’ve had to get creative and take another route to nourish myself through reading. Books like Daring Greatly by Brene Brown, Self-Compassion by Kristin Neff, and The Book of Joy by the Dalai Lama and Desmond TuTu have been the best antidote and I passionately overquote them in all my FaceTimes. Which has earned me the nickname Oprah and I’m not mad at it. Find just one thing that grounds you, brings you peace, and deep enjoyment. If it’s not books try out podcasts or therapy or literally anything that inspires you. Learning has always been a core value of mine and I’m convinced it’s the foundation of resilience.

Purpose:

Am I the only one who can’t tell which way is up right now? Despite that feeling, my journey to forging a central purpose has been a North Star. Before his death this year, Chadwick Boseman gave a commencement speech at Howard University in 2008: “Purpose is an essential element of you. It is the reason you are on the planet at this particular time in history. Your very existence is wrapped up in the things you need to fulfill…remember the struggles along the way are only meant to shape you for your purpose.” What can you learn from your past or present to positively shape your tomorrow?

These three facets have all helped me build up what the Dalai Lama calls mental immunity (insert Oprah voice here). Despite everything I’ve gone through, I am here.

We all are.

By sharing my experiences I take one step closer to my purpose. I hope it helps you find common humanity in this time and challenge what it means to simply ‘be okay’.