The Unseen Life, Part 27

​Having completed a graduate level in Psychology, a second wind caught me by surprise, as I contemplated a post-graduate course. At the time, the wide range of institutions offering Psychology programmes were dizzying. Then He said, “Have a look at NTU?” As an adult learner, having survived the interview process by two professors, I became the oldest in the class of around 30. The process of delving deeper into psychological issues, and interacting with faculty and students, were refreshing and stimulating. This course of study ran concurrently with holding down a full day job, and looking after my mother at home.
 
My thesis project was on the coping strategies of adults who had been sexually abused as children. My thesis supervisor and examiners informed me that this is the first time a topic on this subject was researched in Singapore. The four principal coping mechanisms pertinent to this study are avoidance, emotional release, disclosure and support seeking, and religion. The victims’ choice of coping strategies depended largely on their family’s attitudes, belief systems, values, dynamics, and the consequences of re-victimization.  This research proved illuminating, given my ongoing management of dissociated patients in similar predicaments then. It was purposefully wide-ranging, and in greater depth, than is customary for a Master’s paper; as I was intent on gaining some precious insights and time-tested treatment strategies elicited by past researchers (not included in detail in my eventual presentation).
 
As they narrated their stories for transcription and coding purposes, the interview phases with each abuse subject proved more complex than usual. Many of them were divulging their traumas for the first time. Subject to various degrees of traumatisation and their frequencies, reactions of amnestic recall of abuse events and recurring dissociation during these dialogues were sudden and alarming. For instance, one person would be transfixed in their seat, literarily frozen for a few seconds and unable to move or utter a single word, with an expression of horror written all over their face; another would suddenly lounged at me in anger, with his arms raised as if he was going to strike me, thinking that I was his abuser. One victim abruptly rose from her chair, screaming and cursing at me, as though I was her uncle who had sexually abused her over several years. Moments after they had calmed down, a number of them had no recollection of their dissociative behaviours. Uncontrolled weeping and trembling were not uncommon among these participants through the course of these interviews. However, the Lord was present as He prompted solutions to calm these eruptions as they occurred. 
 
In this study, most victims suffered in silence since the age of 7 years old, attempting to cope as best as they could with the psychological sequelae of their childhood sexual abuse on their own; with 90% of them revealing their victimisation for the first time in their lives some 15 years later. Almost all their parents never knew of their own children’s horrendous predicament; an unfortunate reflection of our social and cultural mores. Re-victimisation occurred in 80% of the female and 50% of the male respondents. Nearly all the victims were abused by a known male relative or friend of the family, usually an authority figure. 
 
The trajectory of this study and the consequences faced by the patients I had seen remains a heartrending eye-opener for me. It painted a profoundly broken world few of us could consciously contemplate. The human cost in terms of suffering and maimed lives, both involving the perpetrators and their victims, are indicative of our fallenness, and the prevalence of sin within every human psyche (Rom 3: 22-24). Nevertheless, God’s gracious interest in being involved in my sessions suggests His abounding care, concern, and love for these anguished and pain-stricken precious souls, from a tragedy not of their own making. Through countless sessions of therapy, a number were healed and restored, and were able to proceed on with their lives, normalising their relationships with their families, friends, and others around them.