Does everything feel like trauma dumping? Maybe you’re the problem

“I still struggle with trusting cisgender folks for fear of being ridiculed,” Su says. For Jyotika, it resulted in a period of self-harm and isolation. “My anxiety and trust issues intensified after being called a “depressing trauma dumper”. I’d work, cut myself and sleep. I didn’t speak to anyone for a year.”

Su and Jyotika have another thing in common: a deep sense of confusion. Both claim they opened up only after persistent encouragement. “It leaves you feeling unsettled and dirty,” Su confesses. “They’re convincing you they didn’t ask for this, but your brain is telling you that they did. You didn’t imagine the performative empathy; you were fooled into sharing and being vulnerable.”

Psychotherapist Prerna Gupta advises discretion. “It takes a lot of courage to open up, so the pain can be acute when our confidences are not received the way we expected. To the sharers: You don’t have to tell someone your story just because they’re asking. Build a history of trust before you open up about your more painful life experiences.”

All of us live in a labyrinthine reality, with complex forms of trauma crisscrossing with different layers of relationships and professional demands. Life can often feel like a pressure cooker, one whistle away from blowing its lid off. In such a scenario, what do we actually owe each other?

“Basic human dignity,” says Lipika. “You’re a garbage human being if you turn someone’s trauma into fodder for gossip. It’s not that hard to say, “Hey, I’m sorry, I can’t handle this topic,” and exit a conversation.” Perhaps the worst thing about the flippant use of the phrase is how far it travels, and how quickly. Natasha tells me that the ‘too much’ tag continues to follow her years later. Jyotika senses wariness in strangers who know her former friends.

I reached out to all of Lipika, Natasha, Su and Jyotika’s former friends. Most refused to engage, a few were hostile, a couple seemed ashamed but not enough to speak on record. One from Lipika’s trio admitted, “On some level, we knew we were being awful friends. She often brought our mood down, and at one point, protecting our energy became more important than our friendship.”