A case
from the author’s experience is haunting and illustrative. In one agency that
employs polygraph examinations, it was routine to polygraph clients on their
disclosures of past victimization, apparently with the underlying assumption
that their clients often sought to excuse their behaviors. While this use of
polygraph could itself be the subject of many other discussions, an interesting
situation arose when the therapist ordered a polygraph to verify the account of
a client in treatment who claimed a lengthy history of sexual abuse as a child.
He had received individual therapy for this over the course of a year. Upon
failing the examination, the client said that in fact he had been lying to his
therapist about this abuse all along. He went so far as to use uncouth language
to assert that his treatment team were naïve and foolish for believing him.
Whatever
the truth in the above client’s case (and setting aside other florid concerns
about his functioning), one is still left with the question of whether other
adverse, even traumatic, experiences in this client’s life contributed to his
offenses and his behavior in treatment. What events in his background led him
to believe that it was in his interest to interact with others this way? In
other words, when we ask about abuse, are we asking the wrong questions? Often
the question seems to be dichotomous: was he abused or not? Perhaps it’s better
to explore all the formative events of one’s life. What are the many ways in
which our clients might have been hurt? What sense did they make of these
events? How have these events contributed to their views/schemas of themselves
and others?
Very
little research has shown a direct link between one’s victimization and
propensity to abuse. Although controversial, authors as diverse as Susan Clancy
and Bruce Rind have observed that not everyone who has been abused experienced
their situation as abusive, and many believe that it had little or no effect on
them. Certainly, the vast majority of people who are victimized do not go on to
abuse others. Yet in our rush to treat only those factors that proximally
contribute to re-offense risk (in adherence to the need principle) we could be
overlooking important ways to make our treatment more meaningful to our clients
(in adherence with the responsivity principle). Ultimately, the question is how
effectively can individual clients build safer futures when they don’t have an adequate
opportunity to transcend their own past?
A couple
of recent studies are worth mentioning. Reavis, Looman, Franco, & Rojas
(2013) administered the Adverse Childhood Experience (ACE) Questionnaire to 151
people who had been violent towards children, engaged in domestic violence,
sexually abused, and had stalked others. They found that these types of
offenders had significantly higher rates of adverse childhood experiences than
men in the general population. Only 9.3% of the sample reported no adverse
events in childhood, compared to 38% of the male sample in the ACE study, and
48% reported four or more adverse experiences, compared to 9% of the men in the
ACE study. Sex offenders in particular had significantly higher ACE scores than
the general population. Likewise, Levenson, Willis, & Prescott (2014)
administered the ACE questionnaire to 679 adult males who had sexually abused.
Compared to males in the general population, sex offenders had more than three
times the odds of child sexual abuse, nearly twice the odds of physical
abuse,thirteen times the odds of verbal abuse, and more than four times the
odds of emotional neglect and coming from a broken home.
Of course,
not everyone responds to adverse and traumatic events equally. Authors such as
Geral Blanchard have written on the understanding of post-traumatic growth,
that ability not only to integrate traumatic experiences, but to find meaning
from them and flourish as a result. Many clients who have sexually abused
simply enter treatment looking to prevent further abuse and are not interested
in an archeological expedition into their distant past. If there is anything
the trauma field has learned, it’s that people who have experienced abuse need
to discuss and move beyond it in their own way and in their own time. Sadly,
there is far more high-quality research into recovery from abuse than recovery
from sexual violence.
Perhaps
the biggest question our field has yet to ask is how adverse experiences
contribute to the areas that can make meaningful change seem unlikely to
therapists and clients alike. It is tempting to think of the sequelae of abuse
as being only things like distress and nightmares. It is easy to forget that
therapy-interfering factors such as restricted affect, memory problems,
relationship issues, and avoidance of situations that remind one of abuse (such
as treatment for sexual aggression) are themselves trauma symptoms and not
always attempts to avoid responsibility.
So how is
it that our field is only now talking about trauma? Perhaps because we’re
finally moving past thinking solely in terms of abuse-abuser hypotheses and
understanding the nuances of adversity.
David
Prescott, LICSW
Gwenda M. Willis, Ph.D., PGDipClinPsyc
PS. This
blog was written with advice and contributions by Jill Levenson
References
Levenson,
J.S., Willis, G.M., & Prescott, D.S. (2014). Adverse Childhood Experiences in the Lives of Male Sex Offenders and
Implications for Trauma-Informed Care. Sexual
Abuse: A Journal of Research and Treatment. Avance online publication.doi: 10.1177/1079063214535819.
Reavis,
J., Looman, J., Franco, K., & Rojas, B. (2013). Adverse Childhood
Experiences and Adult
Criminality: How long must we live before we possess our
own lives? The Permanente Journal, 17,
44-48.
Nice Story. Thanks
ReplyDeleteA thought-provoking blog, thanks for presenting various aspects of working with effects of adverse childhood expereinces
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