Honoring large-scale trauma

Trigger warning: This post gives a general overview of a traumatic event and the aftermath.

This will be an opinion post. 

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Today I’d like to talk about something very personal. But first, you need to know a little about me. My mom is American while my dad is Norwegian. We lived in Norway until I was a teenager, when we moved to the U.S. I identify with both cultures and, yes, I still speak Norwegian.

This July 22 is the three-year anniversary of a tragedy in Norway. A man set off a bomb in the government district of Oslo, killing eight. He then proceeded to massacre 69 people at a youth camp on the island of Utøya where escape was near impossible. These attacks severely injured several more. This has been called Norway’s 9/11, though for the sake of this post I will not make comparisons between the two.

One thing that makes this attack particularly heartbreaking is how widespread the effects were. It was a political camp for teenagers and young adults. The average age of those who died there was 19. But they weren’t all locals. There were representatives from all over the country attending the camp. This spread out the effects because every community had young people who either never came home or came back changed for life. This lead to a deep, nation-wide sorrow.

That event, its aftermath and the anniversary every year has been hard on me. There is research that suggests that high levels of media exposure of a traumatic event can cause secondary effects. I have, at times, been glued to my computer reading and watching news about it. Empathizing with those in a tragedy is normal and healthy, but the level of pain I felt was magnified with every detail I learned. I have had to seek help for this. And that’s okay.

Last night, after noting the timezones placed Norway in July 22, I got very upset. I was at my boyfriend’s apartment and he listened to me talk and cry. When I had done this for a while, he had an idea. He is Latino, so cultural differences do come up in our relationship. He asked how Norwegians mourned. The first thing that came to mind was flowers. After the attacks, unbelievable amounts of flowers were placed at sites related to the attacks. Other cities created places to put them, too. And there were gatherings where everyone brought roses.

When I told him this, he suggested I get roses and put them in places that are significant to me. I thought about it overnight and have come up with a small list. After posting this, I am going to go and buy a half-dozen white roses and commence the process of distributing them. This idea is helping me make peace with this day. I am still upset, but it’s a little more tolerable now that I have a way to express my experience.

There are three things I hoped to convey with this post:

1. Even if you aren’t directly involved, traumatic events can legitimately have an effect on you. If they are affecting you, bring it up with your therapist. It’s okay that it’s not about you.

2. When bad things happen, support can be found in communities. The community you’re in might be as small as your family; it’s connection and sharing the impact that’s important.

3. Everyone has different ways of mourning and it is healthy for you to find your own way to handle grief. It can be in line with a culture or uniquely your own. The important thing is that you express your feelings appropriately.

The sad truth is that every day, intense violence affects people all over the world. Some places see it more than others. When something impacts you, whether directly, indirectly or through exposure, you need to find a way to manage your feelings. It’s okay to reach out. It’s also okay to privately and personally do what you need to do to find peace.

I’d like to end with something Stine Renate Håheim, one of the survivors at Utøya, said after the events: 

“If one man can show so much hate, think of how much love we could show together.”