Joining the dots between Mental Health Awareness Week and rape culture
We are half way through Mental Health Awareness week in the UK. I don’t know about you, but it feels like a much needed reminder to take a breath, particularly as we approach the ten week lockdown mark on Monday. But for us at Bold Voices, this week is also a chance to think more deeply about the connection between mental health and rape culture.
The experience of sexual violence undoubtedly has significant repercussions for the mental health of survivors. Survivors’ testimonies speak of trauma, PTSD, panic attacks, a loss in self confidence and depression, amongst other short and long term mental health effects. However, it’s not just the experience of sexual violence itself that can take its toll on mental health. In many cases, what happens in the aftermath of an incident can trigger even greater mental stress, particularly related to how others respond, the support that's given and the procedures followed by those in a position to support the survivor.
A BBC article tells the experience of Louisa (name changed) who was raped by a fellow student and who suffered escalating anxiety and depression in the months following the incident. When she reported it to the university she described the process of being “retraumatised” when questioned on camera. Another student described her experience as "like being 'gaslit' [a term for psychological abuse where victims are made to constantly doubt themselves and reality] on an institutional level”. For some, the repercussions of this trauma and lack of support are too much to bear; Hannah Stubbs was a student at Keele University who sadly committed suicide at the age of 22 after she was allegedly assaulted at university. Her grandfather condemned the university for the “inadequate support” she was given and for failure to suspend her alleged attacker.
Jennifer Freyd describes the experiences of these students as ‘institutional betrayal’, harm that an institution does to someone who depends on it. And failing to respond effectively to sexual assault is a prime example of institutional betrayal, one that causes additional emotional and physical health problems for the individual. When we listen to the stories of those who’ve sought out the support of their university only to be silenced, ignored, interrogated and gaslit, we see a pattern of institutional betrayal played out by universities. This pattern acts as a pillar, propping up rape culture within universities, validating sexual violence and sending perpetrators signals over and over again that they will not be held accountable for their actions by those in authority.
When students arrive at university it is with the trust and faith that that institution will act as a safety net for the next few years. But what happens if that safety net has large gaping holes? There are no mandatory guidelines for universities to deal with these incidences and the situations are from straightforward, but these excuses are part of a larger picture of a culture that normalises and silences rape culture across our society. Until we demand better, as a student body, as a society, as the parents and teachers who entrust the next generation to the hands of these institutions, then the ripple effects of sexual violence will continue to be felt, leaving student survivors to cope with the mental health impact for the rest of their life.
“No matter how formidable or self-assured I might become, I will always be a tadpole. I believe that’s what being a victim is, living with that little finicky, darting thing inside you. Most people say development is linear, but for survivors it is cyclic. People grow up, victims grow around; we strengthen around that place of hurt, become older and fuller, but the vulnerable core is never gone. More than becoming a frog, I believe surviving means learning to live forever with this trembling tadpole.”