Trauma

I was reading a book on the emotional trauma went through by western/American gay men. One of those are betrayal by their first lovers (cheating etc), which the author pointed out may have a long-term effect on the psychology of gay men bla bla.

What I'm going to write on has nothing to do with sexuality though. The diagnostic criteria for "trauma", as written in the book were as follows:

1. Reliving the trauma: This can happen through nightmares, flashbacks, or reexperiencing as a result of being in the presence of stimuli reminiscent of the traumatic event.

2. Efforts to avoid thoughts or feelings that are associated with trauma.

3. Efforts to avoid activities or situations that arouse memories of the trauma.

4. Inability to remember some important aspect of the trauma.

5. Marked reduced interest in important activities.

6.

7.

8.

9. Hypervigilance (heightened sensitivity to possible traumatic stimuli).


When I read those, I immediately recalled this particular encounter with my form-6 math teacher. Sure enough, I dreamed about the teacher again, and he was yelling at me (and me yelling back) in the dream.

It has been more than one year, but every time I recall this incident, I still feel the angst and sorrow for having it to happen. The reason this conflict with the teacher had such a traumatic effect on me was because, of all the form-6 teachers, I was the least defensive to him (对他最没有戒心）。He was the type of teacher who came in class, taught, and left. He knew the subject he taught, and there were not much gossip or idle "sembang-ing" from him in class. Before the incident, if I had been asked who were the teacher I respected the most, I would probably say him. At that time, for some reasons, some teachers didn't really like me and passed bad comments about me, so I really appreciated a teacher who could just keep the teacher-student relation simple and professional.

But in the end, I was verbally abused by the same teacher for like 10 minutes. No, I let him verbally abuse me by choosing to remain in the room despite the crazy insults and accusations.

Even till this day, despite recognizing the knowledge he imparted (which I would have acquired myself if he had not), there was still so much angst for him, so much that I want him to die, to disappear. If I know he dies I will feel relieved from the implosions of shame inside me. Only if he dies I would forgive myself for my naivety.