Behind Heavy Doors

Behind Heavy Doors

by Kate Rose, PhD

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Incident 1: “You Are Disabled!”

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Introduction: People who have survived against all odds are dear to me. I am always struck by how people become the opposite of their tormentors. For example, those liberated from Auschwtiz who still survive (80 years later as of January 27, 2025) give powerful messages to the world about avoiding the dangers of communitarianism. I finally want to tell my own story. I warn you, it is a chilling one. I’m ready to go public with events almost no one knows about, in hopes of helping others by breaking the silence, raising awareness, and increasing empathy.

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Part 1 (narrative): “You are disabled!” she screamed at me. This was the first time I’d heard this word. It was first grade, and she referred to my new learning-disability diagnosis. This was after the summer of my brother’s brain tumor and my budding imagination, resourcefulness, and connection with nature—all pillars of survival in my future, but not skills that would help me pass first grade.

Abuse (physical, psychological, and sexual) had been central probably since my birth. I had no positive role models or trustworthy adults in my life. Take a moment to imagine what that would be like. Think about what the consequences would be on a child’s growth. Maybe you share this trauma. If so, I am sorry for what was done to you and the suffering you’ve endured. Many will minimize the harm done to you, and you are trained to do so, too, and that is wrong. Are you baffled by your behaviors? Proud of yourself for what you became, in spite of it all? A bit of both?

Let’s go back to first grade and the word “disabled.” The thing that surprises me now is that I bothered to protest. When little first-grade me shouted back, “No I’m not! I’m not disabled!” it was a rejection of a label in this context used to excuse all harm done and to come. A label that meant less-than. But how could know I was worth anything? How could there be any self left, by this point, to defend?

You might wonder how a parent could be so cruel to their own child. We carry these myths around with us in society: parents may be messed up but they always ultimately want what’s best for their children… and if they don’t, we’re best off forgiving them and understanding where they’re coming from, as it’s better to have parents in the picture than not. Do these sound familiar to you, or even ring true??

The research of Dr. Muriel Salmona, a French psychiatrist, social-change and justice advocate, and trauma expert finally published in English discusses how such myths harm victims by occulting both neurological and sociological realities. People who abuse others have been abused themselves. This may not be obvious, as the worst abuse is most often hidden. Neurologically, if the abuse has not been tamed into a cogent narrative met with awareness and empathy (and with each symptom traced to its origin), it is required to repeat. This is due to addiction to “hard drugs” the body produces. And there are only two ways to get that fix: be harmed again (which can include self-harm) or harm someone else. The perpetrator, formerly a victim, now seems to have power. This amounts to changing the roles in the script but not the script. They have no concern for justice or ability to feel empathy (though they may fake both these quite well). All that matters is appearances and the law of might makes right.??

My “mother” (the quotation marks distance from the positive associations the term carries, which do not apply here, such as nurturing and protecting—I’ll call her B from now on) was still living the script of her childhood. Now being the torturer, not the victim, allowed her relief from her own traumatic memory (“relief” meaning the hard-drug chemical fix). Again, the research of Dr. Muriel Salmona elaborates on this mechanism.?

Following the learning disability diagnosis, I was put in the Resource Room, which my peers called the Retard Room. I remember the teacher’s pointy, sharp red fingernails and her nasal voice. I have some blanks about the extent of her abuse—whether it was just talking down to us and making us do mindless punitive work or something more criminal.?

“What bad luck!” you might say—abused at home and again at school? You might even doubt me, saying “How could that be?” Here’s how: perpetrators seek out victims who have already been victimized. They can sniff them out. They can find situations that allow access or opportunistically seize occasions. As they have been victims, they know very well how to recognize their kind. Unlike most victims, however, who have a strong sense of justice and would never harm anyone, they choose to use this knowledge and chance to gain a chemical fix at no expense to themselves, using another to suffer in their place.?

The other children in the Resource Room were a real mix. It seems some had innate conditions such as Down’s Syndrome and others were like me: more situationally handicapped. I think some also had mobility issues or speech impediments. We were treated equally poorly and made to do the same busy work, required, for example, to copy the same shape over and over. There was no possibility for us to interact. This was a lonely place in lonely lives that knew nothing else. I recall a paralyzing kind of terror in that room, which is why I think the teacher was abusing us and not just being indifferent and somewhat mean. When with other children, we were ridiculed outcasts. The teachers seemed to condone this; they never stepped in and they also expressed exasperation with us children who were so poorly lacking. We were scapegoated by teachers and peers alike, but the real nightmare was at home behind heavy doors.?

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Part 2 (themes and theories):

Dr. Muriel Salmona saved my and countless other lives by going far beyond what is currently called “trauma-informed care.” One thing Salmona adds to the conversation is the psychology of the perpetrator. Although it is fashionable to use the term “survivor,” she prefers “victim.” One reason is that “victim” implies that there is a perpetrator and thus a crime, whereas “survivor” has more the connotation of a natural disaster and also something that is over and done once the disaster has passed. This is not to say we are forever locked into or reduced to our victim status. On the contrary, confronting the full extent of what happened, including the deep-dive into the “why,” is how we can fully heal. The psychology of the perpetrator is a key component to understanding trauma, and it is neglected in even trauma-informed care.?

Here’s an example: a woman who was abused as a child by her mother’s partner and was told in therapy that the mother “chose the partner over her own children.” This is an erroneous analysis. According to Salmona’s work, the “mother”/ perpetrator was treating her own trauma by making it so abuse was inflicted on her children. She wasn’t “making a difficult choice”—she wanted the abuse to happen and was gaining a “hard-drug” neurological fix. Only reliving trauma herself or inflicting it on someone else could give her that, and she chose to sacrifice her daughter. Most victims “choose” to be re-victimized, but a small portion have someone else suffer in their place.?

There is, thankfully, a third option, which is healing and becoming aware, but the tools are not usually given. This example shows how misleading even trauma-informed care can be. Being told her mother chose the abuser over her did not help this woman, and to this day she suffers from alcoholism and domestic violence, tragically not making the connections necessary to heal. The erroneous and dismissive conclusion reenforces a message that she is not really worth much in her mother’s eyes—without questioning the term “mother,” and without naming what had happened a crime, which it was. I am writing this for this woman and all other victims out there, in hopes you can understand the reality of what happened to you and continues to “colonize” you, so that you can truly and fully break free.

Children are ideal victims for perpetrator “parents,” who give up any ability for honest, heartfelt relationships. Only appearances matter, and the role of now being the one who seems to be in control. Trauma-informed care today tends to be psychoanalytical and depoliticized, upholding a societal comfort level and illusion of choice, honoring “the importance of family.” When we tease it all out, we see that society is more comfortable with sexual violence in families happening than with correctly naming acts as criminal. It thinks that people are “better off with abusive families than no family at all.” This is not true from a neurological standpoint or based on what we know of trauma’s effects, yet it dominates “trauma-informed care.” It’s the idea that the choice should be open for people to be in touch with families or not, without realizing that there is not a real choice if people are not given the tools to understand what typically happens in their brains and lives in each of those scenarios.

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Part 3 (implications):

I have always had survivors’ guilt regarding the disabled people I left behind in the Resource Room. Miraculously, I escaped and gained a voice. I’m pretty sure (statistically) they did not. I recently learned that in many states, it is legal to pay disabled people less than minimum wage. We are far more likely to be victims of abuse and torture. With the chaos of our U.S. government right now, services for disabled people are threatened. It is also an example of a narcissist in power, whose psychology can be best understood when we examine why perpetrators do what they do, neurologically speaking. The analysis is timely.?

I live with a PTSD disability. Abuse has made my brain work differently. But I’ve been very lucky. For more than a decade, though with numerous setbacks, my life and mental health have been improving. I have the intellectual tools and abilities to articulate what happened to me. That is the biggest thing most survivors do not have. The resources are hard to come by. Myths persist. I don’t think my peers in the Resource Room have fared so well. But I do know my experience has given me a huge sense of solidarity and duty toward all kinds of disabled people.

I first became fully aware that I really am disabled only months ago. It’s like first-grade me went back and yelled to B, “Yes, I am disabled, and I’m proud of it!” The awareness hit me when biking back from a disability film festival. It was the first time I’d been in a room full of people across disabilities coming together to view films by and about members of the disability community. The discourse and vibe were of pride and possibility.

I suddenly realized I am disabled!, after trying to mask, hide, and pass all my life. After being in denial. After rejecting the “disabled” term as a hopeless gesture of protest in a seven-year-old attempt to preserve some selfhood or dignity. Then, the term had been just another way of gutting my selfhood, making sure nothing remained. And in the now of that film festival, I realized just how much had miraculously remained, and that, included in what remained, was the possibility of a whole new community where I wouldn’t have to struggle so much to pass for neurotypical or mask my story, what I’ve come from, or have to pretend I’m tiptoeing through daisies when I’m actually navigating a minefield.?

The very day when I started writing this, I was fired from my job for “poor performance.” I decided it is high time to use what I really have to give this world and be independent and free by starting Dream On. Please help by donating to this at https://venmo.com/u/wildirishfiddle and supporting the work I am doing in favor victims, disabled people, and migrants. I am planning an interactive Celtic/Latin musical show for St. Patrick's Day centered on immigration during the Irish famine and today at our own borders. Donations from attendees will go to support a local organization assisting migrants, and I am requesting advanced donations to cover the costs to put on the show. Your donation, however big or small, will also help me to officially create Dream On and pay the fees for registering a 501c3 nonprofit---all very exciting!