Don't feel bad, I was in law enforcement for a long time and believe me, it completely destroyed my faith in humanity, the justice system, and the government. Its sad that even in a job where your soul purpose is to protect the public while serving the public, it still all boils down to the almighty dollar. If somebody isn't getting there's then unfortunately the public suffers. When administrators sit on their asses and make $150, 000 a year and the guys on the street make $13.00 an hour they eventually get frustrated and stop caring. The court system does everything it can to keep people in the system because they rack up court costs. When someone goes to jail, the jail and the court make a lot of money.
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Ptsd: Did Someone Know And Not Do Anything?
- Post starter Marie10
- Start date
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I truly believe that human beings are hard-wired to be essentially egotistical. Whenever anything happens in our lives, we ask ourselves, either consciously or unconsciously, "what's in this for me?"
In terms of stepping in to render assistance or to react to observed wrongs, therefore, the answer that the person comes up with to that question probably dictates what they do. Many people fear the negative consequences of getting involved, such as being harmed themselves or even just inconvenienced by the need to take time out of their schedules. Many people fear they will be forced to take subsequent action that will jeopardise their reputation, safety or other important personal factors. In such instances, "what's in it for me" is all negative and limiting, and hence the person is probably unlikely to want to get involved.
But for some people, "what's in it for me" might be the chance to right an obvious wrong, to save or assist another human being, to speak up about something they feel passionate about, or any number of other tangible or intangible benefits. Where the likelihood of positive personal outcome outweighs the likelihood of negative outcome, the person is therefore more likely to get involved.
I know this is perhaps a cynical and harsh view of human motivation, and needless to say I don't believe in altruism in the popular sense of the word, but I honestly do believe that we are fundamentally motivated in life by our own best interests, and the extent to which we are seen to be helpful of others is largely dependent on whether our perceived best interests are in line with those of others.
For anyone who is victimised, but particularly for a child, to have the abuse wilfully ignored by others is, I believe, one of the most damaging contextual factors that can turn any potentially traumatic event into a long-term trauma. For a child, I believe it is sometimes irreversibly damaging for the child to interpret this lack of action as a mark of the unimportance of their safety, the fact that they don't matter, have no rights, deserve the abuse, are hateful and shameful people, and any number of other core beliefs about themselves.
I do truly believe that those who stand by and do nothing are as inexcusably guilty, though in a different way, as those who perpetrate the abuse. There is a special place in hell for such people.
Maddog
In terms of stepping in to render assistance or to react to observed wrongs, therefore, the answer that the person comes up with to that question probably dictates what they do. Many people fear the negative consequences of getting involved, such as being harmed themselves or even just inconvenienced by the need to take time out of their schedules. Many people fear they will be forced to take subsequent action that will jeopardise their reputation, safety or other important personal factors. In such instances, "what's in it for me" is all negative and limiting, and hence the person is probably unlikely to want to get involved.
But for some people, "what's in it for me" might be the chance to right an obvious wrong, to save or assist another human being, to speak up about something they feel passionate about, or any number of other tangible or intangible benefits. Where the likelihood of positive personal outcome outweighs the likelihood of negative outcome, the person is therefore more likely to get involved.
I know this is perhaps a cynical and harsh view of human motivation, and needless to say I don't believe in altruism in the popular sense of the word, but I honestly do believe that we are fundamentally motivated in life by our own best interests, and the extent to which we are seen to be helpful of others is largely dependent on whether our perceived best interests are in line with those of others.
For anyone who is victimised, but particularly for a child, to have the abuse wilfully ignored by others is, I believe, one of the most damaging contextual factors that can turn any potentially traumatic event into a long-term trauma. For a child, I believe it is sometimes irreversibly damaging for the child to interpret this lack of action as a mark of the unimportance of their safety, the fact that they don't matter, have no rights, deserve the abuse, are hateful and shameful people, and any number of other core beliefs about themselves.
I do truly believe that those who stand by and do nothing are as inexcusably guilty, though in a different way, as those who perpetrate the abuse. There is a special place in hell for such people.
Maddog
rightkindofme
Diamond Member
I've had multiple police officers tell me it wasn't worth ruining that nice boys life for me. :( I don't really talk to police well any more. :(
- Post starter
- #16
Thank You everyone for your posts. I find it hard, very hard to swallow. Please, if you can and did not post, join in.
I find this issue a disease in our society. In the recent London attack, I ask myself what would I have done? I know I would've done something, I just know. I know also the thought would come to my mind, am I willing to die for this? My answer would be yes. For me it's about doing right.
Upon looking back at the traumatic experiences where no one did anything, I find cowardice since it took nothing than at least a phone call. As I read the stories, I know it's hard, strength in numbers helps me heal too. Does it help you?
I find this issue a disease in our society. In the recent London attack, I ask myself what would I have done? I know I would've done something, I just know. I know also the thought would come to my mind, am I willing to die for this? My answer would be yes. For me it's about doing right.
Upon looking back at the traumatic experiences where no one did anything, I find cowardice since it took nothing than at least a phone call. As I read the stories, I know it's hard, strength in numbers helps me heal too. Does it help you?
I work for Child Protective Services and am an investigator. It is amazing how many people call in abuse but refuse to address it themselves. They call us and want us to fix it when they are the ones who have lived next door to it for 10 years. I feel like by the time we get called, we are not protecting, only defending.
As for me, noone even noticed. The things that I lived through, noone paid enough attention to me to realize what was happening. This is what I struggle with today. As a result of this lack of attention, I continue to blend into the background, while craving someone to notice me all at the same time. Simply because I do not know what that feels like.
Neglect cases are difficult. To see these kids look at you with relief, because SOMEONE noticed they had not eaten, or had not gotten to school. Someone NOTICED they existed. The first pick up I ever did, the 6 yr old looked at me and asked if she had to go home. When I told her no she hugged me and said thank you. I know I am doing the right job. For them and maybe for some healing for me as well. I can do for them what nobody did for me.
As for me, noone even noticed. The things that I lived through, noone paid enough attention to me to realize what was happening. This is what I struggle with today. As a result of this lack of attention, I continue to blend into the background, while craving someone to notice me all at the same time. Simply because I do not know what that feels like.
Neglect cases are difficult. To see these kids look at you with relief, because SOMEONE noticed they had not eaten, or had not gotten to school. Someone NOTICED they existed. The first pick up I ever did, the 6 yr old looked at me and asked if she had to go home. When I told her no she hugged me and said thank you. I know I am doing the right job. For them and maybe for some healing for me as well. I can do for them what nobody did for me.
Lady of Longbourn
VIP Member
I have been watching this thread. Wanting to answer...
I have two clear times and many in between on people not doing anything but I am not ready to talk about them. They are very painful.
I have two clear times and many in between on people not doing anything but I am not ready to talk about them. They are very painful.
- Post starter
- #19
Since I posted this, I remember many more incidents. One was when I was punched by my boyfriend at the time at a pub in front of everyone. Another time, after I was raped I was at a hospital that had a special rape clinic inside. After they did the rape kit and I spoke to the cops, I was told to go home. I told them I'm worried I may commit suicide. They kept me overnight then a state worker came in and said it's either leave or go to the state hospital. I was about to go to the state hospital but I remembered it was my birthday and my mom would want to hear from me. My so called best friend was supposed to pick me up but she "forgot". I had to fight to get the taxi voucher. I later spoke to this best friend and she said that because I had been drinking and used drugs with these two guys that it probably wasn't rape. That made me feel horrible and confused.
I also remember when I was dating this finance guy who had a lot of money. We went to Mexico, he did something very bad and one our way to his yacht, I told him he is an a**hole. In front of everyone he said he was going to beat me up. When we got on the yacht, in front of the all American crew he did just that. I heard some guys laughing. Later I walked up to the kitchen for a cloth and some ice cubes and they laughed at me again. I remember feeling so trapped. I called my friends in California and they got the money together to bring me back to LA, along with the help of the female bartender who was there after he beat me up. So there is a Good Samaritan and Bad Bystanders.
I went to the airport close to Cabo, bleeding still, purple bruises everywhere. the Mexican authorities just ignored me. I was afraid of his retaliation since he knew people and asked if I could sit by the Mexican authorities, they said yes still without care. As more people came into the airport, people came up to me and asked if I was okay, I said yes. Then as I went to get water, I crumbled to the ground and cried uncontrollably.
An Australian couple grabbed me up and sat me down next to them, they looked to see when my flight left and the man went to the window. When he came back he said he changed their flight so they could make sure I got home safely. I then felt so battered and bruised but so loved. They helped me board my plane and I asked for their email address, he gave me their business card. I'll never forget their kindness, never. I sent them flowers when I returned. No one on the plane said anything, nothing even though I could hardly see and was still bleeding. I'll never forget the good and the bad of that day.
I also remember when I was dating this finance guy who had a lot of money. We went to Mexico, he did something very bad and one our way to his yacht, I told him he is an a**hole. In front of everyone he said he was going to beat me up. When we got on the yacht, in front of the all American crew he did just that. I heard some guys laughing. Later I walked up to the kitchen for a cloth and some ice cubes and they laughed at me again. I remember feeling so trapped. I called my friends in California and they got the money together to bring me back to LA, along with the help of the female bartender who was there after he beat me up. So there is a Good Samaritan and Bad Bystanders.
I went to the airport close to Cabo, bleeding still, purple bruises everywhere. the Mexican authorities just ignored me. I was afraid of his retaliation since he knew people and asked if I could sit by the Mexican authorities, they said yes still without care. As more people came into the airport, people came up to me and asked if I was okay, I said yes. Then as I went to get water, I crumbled to the ground and cried uncontrollably.
An Australian couple grabbed me up and sat me down next to them, they looked to see when my flight left and the man went to the window. When he came back he said he changed their flight so they could make sure I got home safely. I then felt so battered and bruised but so loved. They helped me board my plane and I asked for their email address, he gave me their business card. I'll never forget their kindness, never. I sent them flowers when I returned. No one on the plane said anything, nothing even though I could hardly see and was still bleeding. I'll never forget the good and the bad of that day.
KP the nut
VIP Member
I tried to do something and no-one would listen.
My daughter is 26. When she was born, my neighbour at that time had a baby boy a couple of months older than my daughter. They also had an older boy who was severely disabled (his father delivered him and the cord was around his neck, no medical personnel at all). This time around, my neighbour had a midwife but when she went into labour, the midwife wasn't called.
Anyway jump a head a few months. I had a beautiful, healthy baby girl. I would visit my baby and would leave with a growing unease. I spoke to my husband. Her baby just didn't seem to be thriving and my neighbour didn't seem to have a clue about introducing solid food. The final straw for me was that they refused to have the baby vaccinated for anything, not even TB. We lived in South Africa and vaccinations were a priority.
Convinced something was wrong, I tried calling various people, child welfare and even voluntary organisations. I was passed from pillar to post but because I was talking about a nice middle class white family, no-one would listen.
One morning, I went to visit my neighbour, they had been away. Her husband was mowing the lawn and told me to go in. My neighbour was sat on the floor giving the older boy a massage. I asked how they were and she replied 'oh fine, except baby **** died'. I mean, WTF. She pointed into the corner and there in a carry cot was the baby, dead.
I had to get out of there with my baby. It still haunts me. Months later, I met a lady and we spoke of the family. She suddenly said 'are you the one who tried to get help' I said yes and she apologised that no-one could help.
After that, I never spoke to my neighbours again.
My daughter is 26. When she was born, my neighbour at that time had a baby boy a couple of months older than my daughter. They also had an older boy who was severely disabled (his father delivered him and the cord was around his neck, no medical personnel at all). This time around, my neighbour had a midwife but when she went into labour, the midwife wasn't called.
Anyway jump a head a few months. I had a beautiful, healthy baby girl. I would visit my baby and would leave with a growing unease. I spoke to my husband. Her baby just didn't seem to be thriving and my neighbour didn't seem to have a clue about introducing solid food. The final straw for me was that they refused to have the baby vaccinated for anything, not even TB. We lived in South Africa and vaccinations were a priority.
Convinced something was wrong, I tried calling various people, child welfare and even voluntary organisations. I was passed from pillar to post but because I was talking about a nice middle class white family, no-one would listen.
One morning, I went to visit my neighbour, they had been away. Her husband was mowing the lawn and told me to go in. My neighbour was sat on the floor giving the older boy a massage. I asked how they were and she replied 'oh fine, except baby **** died'. I mean, WTF. She pointed into the corner and there in a carry cot was the baby, dead.
I had to get out of there with my baby. It still haunts me. Months later, I met a lady and we spoke of the family. She suddenly said 'are you the one who tried to get help' I said yes and she apologised that no-one could help.
After that, I never spoke to my neighbours again.
I was the FIFTH of five molested daughters. Nobody ever tried to bale me out of the situation. My oldest sisters, who were 11 and 7 years older...never told. They never took me under their wing in any way. It was simply 'our life' and it was all that we knew. When my older sisters moved on, got married, etc....they never inquired how we younger girls were doing, they never told our mother, who lived elsewhere, having divorced our father when I was 10. They never told a soul. None of us did. My therapist asked me if I was angry at them, and I asked her 'for what?'. It never occurred to me to be angry at them. This was our life.
I think that my ptsd was made a million times worse just by the fact that authority figures. ..police and doctors...did nothing to protect me...for years.
I was mentally and physically abused by a minor..at first I wasn't believed because I was the adult..and my abuser acted like a victim when questioned.
Social services might protect kids from adults but there is nothing when the situation is reversed. My abuser had to almost attempt murder in order to get locked up. And even then it took 6 months to get a court date as the abuse continued. If I had a dollar for every time the police said to call them the next time it happened. When the judge saw all the times the police were called to my house over a 3 year period, he couldn't believe it.
I grew up respecting police. Now they can bite me. At least have the decency to tell me you don't have the power to help from the beginning.
I was mentally and physically abused by a minor..at first I wasn't believed because I was the adult..and my abuser acted like a victim when questioned.
Social services might protect kids from adults but there is nothing when the situation is reversed. My abuser had to almost attempt murder in order to get locked up. And even then it took 6 months to get a court date as the abuse continued. If I had a dollar for every time the police said to call them the next time it happened. When the judge saw all the times the police were called to my house over a 3 year period, he couldn't believe it.
I grew up respecting police. Now they can bite me. At least have the decency to tell me you don't have the power to help from the beginning.
They do have the power to help. That is precisely what their job is, they are given the power to go above and beyond an average citizen in order to help, hence the motto "To serve and PROTECT" I don't how many times I would hear of detectives try and play down an abuse case just so they didn't have to do the work. This is another reason I lost all faith in the very job I had wanted to do my whole life.
Candleflames
Platinum Member
How someone can just watch and do nothing to help another being assaulted is something I have also wondered about. I can remember many times bruises, screaming or the sound of fist hitting flesh was ignored. Everyone knew in our neighborhood and at my school. Only one teacher and my therapist ever reported my parents to child services and only one neighbor called the police (though he did call several times). And those reports went absolutely nowhere. I've considered getting copies of those reports to try and figure out why.
I remember one time almost everyone on our street gathered on our front lawn to peer through the blinds and watch my dad pin me down on my bed and repeatedly punch me if the face. I think I was about 11. No one did a damn thing. The just watched as I kicked and clawed at him to try and make it stop. They even adjusted their positions to get a better view!
I think it's because of these experiences that I don't stand by. I get involved.
I remember one time almost everyone on our street gathered on our front lawn to peer through the blinds and watch my dad pin me down on my bed and repeatedly punch me if the face. I think I was about 11. No one did a damn thing. The just watched as I kicked and clawed at him to try and make it stop. They even adjusted their positions to get a better view!
I think it's because of these experiences that I don't stand by. I get involved.
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