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Insight

Care Giving for Caregivers of Survivors

Supporting someone through a crisis — especially a crisis involving sexual abuse or violence — is not easy. It is not easy to hold and soothe someone’s pain, to face cruelty in its most vile form, and to know what to say or what to do when folks share traumatic experiences.  

The pain that someone shares with you is not your own, but as a caregiver it can feel as if it becomes yours. We absorb other’s emotions. It is in our humanity to do so. We sacrifice for our loved ones and strangers because we are interconnected. Holding space for someone else’s aches can mean lessening that ache for them. However, in this article, I want to recognize that offering your support to survivors is deep emotional labor. We need to be aware of how this work affects us and to know how to care for ourselves—especially because many of us doing this work are also survivors. 

The often unseen work of a caregiver deserves respect. 

It reminds us to practice compassion and empathy — to be tender in how we care for others and how we care for ourselves. This is necessary work, transformational work, work that weighs heavy on our spirits at times, but also lifts our hearts into the skies.

Once at a conference, I cared for a woman. A stranger, who had lost someone — a survivor, to suicide. I held her warm, dry hand, inside the hotel lobby, leaning against plush carpeted walls. I didn’t talk much, listened more, and asked guiding questions, validating her experience and heartache. I believed in her tears and offered tissues. When she got up to go, her eyes still glistened, but a smile rested on her lips. 

I carried her pain in my stomach. It churned — a wild tornado of grief. Inside the walls of the Hyatt, I no longer felt safe. I ran outside into the courtyard, taking in deep breaths, and placed my hand on the thin trunk of a ficus tree. I channeled the energy of sorrow through bark to roots to Mama Earth. “Mama Earth,” I prayed, “take this from me. Make it bloom.” It’s what Mama Earth does — takes shit and creates life. 

If you’re new to supporting survivors, seek out trauma-informed resources. These resources will help you support survivors in a way that minimizes further harm. Your priority is ensuring that you are holding space for folks who need it. However, you can’t hold this space unless you’re taking care of yourself.  Once you’ve dived into these resources, take the time to learn about different self-soothing techniques and make sure that you’re also finding the space to prioritize yourself. 

Below is a short (and incomplete) list of techniques I’ve used to ensure that I can continue to be present, mindful, and meaningful as a caregiver. 

 

  1. Ground. 
    Whether it’s touching a tree or digging your toes into soil or sand — Mama Earth makes us whole. Take deep breaths into her wondrous belly. She is part of you, you are part of her. The world is a terror, but she’s our savior.
     
  2. Process. 
    Journal, talk to a trusted friend or therapist, draw, collage, paint. Give yourself room to grieve. It may not be your grief but that doesn’t mean it hurts less or more. Hurt is hurt, and it won’t go away until you allow your body to feel all its sharp angles and soft curves.
     
  3. Set boundaries.
    When, where, and for how long you’re available to listen and support. If there’s a day, you don’t have capacity, be honest about it. Is there someone else who can provide support? Help the survivor make a list of other resources like warm lines* (hotlines where you can talk to someone to receive emotional support if you are facing a challenge) or peer support groups, ideally before you’re at capacity. It’s not healthy to be the only person someone leans on. It creates codependency and burnout. We need communities of care — support networks and care pods.
     
  4. Make time to treat yourself. 
    Do something silly or fun. Turn up the music in your kitchen and dance to a song you love. Watch a funny and fluffy TV show or movie. Go to an open mic or a bookstore. Ride your bike. Go to the edge of a cliff and scream. Swim in the ocean or a lake. Take yourself out on a date. Make a list of things you love to do and pick one whenever you feel overwhelming despair. 
     
  5. Recognize triggers. 
    Know your triggers and have a plan if you are triggered. Share this plan with a trusted friend. Again, you can’t care for others if you’re not caring for yourself. Don’t try to push through. If you’re able to, take time off from work and other responsibilities. Normalize taking time off for mental health.
     
  6. Validate your own emotional labor. 
    Sometimes listening is enough. Survivors need witnesses for their sorrow. You don’t have to have the answers. Answers are not what survivors seek.  Survivors want to be heard and seen and feel not alone.
     
  7. Check in with yourself often.
    What is your capacity? Is it dwindling? Do you need a break? Practice saying “no” and asserting your boundaries when needed.
     
  8. You are not a savior. 
    Your goal is not to “save” the person you’re supporting. That is not your job.  
     
  9. Practice stillness and mindfulness. 
    In a culture that values productivity and busyness, it’s easy to slip into doing, doing, doing. In stillness, we find inner peace and recharge our batteries. Think of time as if you were a tree. 
     
  10. Write a manifesto of your values.
    Know what is important to you and how you can practice this in your daily life. If you are choosing to provide care for others, affirm why you do this. Return to this manifesto when it feels like you’re not doing enough. Remember, it is enough.
     
  11. Practice affirmations and gratitude
    Some of my favorites: I send love and healing to every part of my body.  I am grateful for how the sun kisses my skin. I got this. I am grateful for how my body holds me. I am powerful. I am grateful for the care I’ve received.
     
  12. Try sensory grounding. 
    Find a smell or texture that you love and that brings you comfort. Have it accessible.
     
  13. Reach out for help if you need it.  
    Don’t be afraid to be specific. Ask a friend to bring you soup or ice cream. Have a friend pick up your kids from school or clean your house. Go dancing with a friend, or sing karaoke. If helpful, ask for a hug or physical touch. Allow yourself to be consensually held.
     
  14. Let it out.
    Cry. Wail. Sob. Scream. In public. In private. Into your pillow. Under water. With a friend.
     
  15. Know when to step away. 
    Sometimes you’re not who someone needs and that’s okay. This doesn’t make you any less worthy. It just means it’s not a good fit and bad fits can spiral into more intense storms.
     
  16. Lean into your body’s wisdom.
    Listen to its alarm systems and when it sees red flags.
     
  17. Seek comfort from the spiritual, animal, plant world.
    Bird watch, puppy snuggle, or water your garden. Star gaze, moon bathe. The universe sees you. Your ancestors see you and they’re proud of you.
     
  18. Know that you will make mistakes. 
    It’s ok. You may not know what to say or do, and what you say or do may not be what the survivor needs. It happens. You’ll learn and grow. You’ll still make mistakes. Seek accountability and repair as necessary.
     
  19. Remember it’s not your fault. 
    If you’ve been in community with someone’s abuser, don’t blame yourself for not knowing. But now that you do know, act accordingly.
     
  20. Honor and recognize your emotions. 
    feelings wheel is a helpful tool to start naming specific emotions you’re experiencing. What are your emotions telling you? What can you say back to them? Emotions are wise and will reveal something about you. Honor this. But they can also be misguided, arising from past trauma or a trigger. Recognize this. Emotions can get overwhelming, but if you push them away or refuse to listen to them, they’ll only get louder. Don’t ignore them.
     
  21. Connect with others who are doing this work. 
    Caregivers benefit from the community, in spaces where there isn't pressure to provide that care. Resource-share. Vent and rant. Do something together that fills your collective spirits as caregivers. 

 


EDITOR’S NOTE

* Karo shared a few examples of warm lines here:

Warmline
general website where you can search for warm lines

Call Blackline
1 (800) 604-5841
prioritizes queer BIPOC folks

Project Return Peer Support Network
LA-based org (accepts out of state calls) that I have had direct experience with

 

Author: Karo Ska

 

  • Karo Ska, she/they
  • Karo Ska is a South Asian and Eastern European gender-fluid writer living on unceded Tongva land. Their writing focuses on identity, mental health, survivorship, and the intersections of trauma and politics. They believe that writing is a restorative tool for well-being.