Recognizing the (Quiet) Signs of PTSD and Trauma
- Deanna Diamond, LPC

- Jun 25
- 3 min read
Many of us have grown up with media portrayals of trauma and PTSD. This has just been part of the entertainment landscape since we were children, and it has migrated to social media and the Interwebs, leading to an understanding of trauma as something that impacts us in ways that we do not fully comprehend, sometimes for years. Because visual and entertainment media is so external and so dependent on capturing behavior, most of the portrayals of PTSD focus on the more expressive and demonstrative aspects of the disorder, the flashbacks, the episodes of emotional dysregulation, the startle responses that are too big for what triggered them. There is another side to trauma that does not get as much focus, and it is often quieter and less externally disruptive, but it can be just as impactful.
Learned helplessness is a trauma response. First coined by Martin Seligman and Steven Maier in 1967, “learned helplessness” refers to a state where a person has been subjected to uncontrollable, stressful, and abusive events to a point where they stop trying to escape or change the situation, even when an opportunity becomes available. It may seem counterintuitive given how PTSD is often presented in popular culture, but this quiet inertia of helplessness and hopelessness can be a sign of a trauma response, especially for those who have experienced repetitive trauma or were exposed to it at a very early age. Learned helplessness is both cognitive and emotional. People with the condition have mental blocks in place that prevent them from seeing options, weighing risks, and taking decisive action. They may also have very low self-esteem, impaired ability to trust themselves or other people, and a high tolerance for discomfort and mental stress. All of this can combine to create a feedback loop that convinces them that change is futile and improvement is not possible.
The lack of understanding of this connection between trauma and learned helplessness can lead to some very misinformed and extremely damaging reactions from people whose job it is to provide support, care, and advocacy for the traumatized. I saw this firsthand throughout my early career, when I worked in the criminal justice system and saw police and prosecutors dismiss abused women as “volunteers”, not victims, because they could not leave on a dime when their abusers got arrested. I see it now when I work with clients whose family members are telling them they are “weak” for not taking career risks after years of layoffs, pay cuts, and being overworked to the point of exhaustion by their employers. I recently watched a friend go through this with her long-term partner, who labeled her as “irresponsible” for not wanting to go to yet another doctor after years of testing for debilitating symptoms that still do not have a diagnosis.
Learned helplessness is a conditioned response, not a personality trait. It is something that a person has acquired, not an inherent part of who they are. To treat it as something indelible that cannot be altered is to dismiss the lived reality of someone with trauma. That person may not remember a version of themselves that was open to change, possibility, opportunity, and agency, but they existed in the world with those qualities at some point. Helping that person find a way back to a more balanced, realistic understanding of what is withing their power to control and influence is often the goal of trauma therapy. People who exist in a state of learned helplessness often cannot recognize that they are there, so I would encourage you to react with compassion and genuine curiosity when the people in your life display this behavior. Talk to them about what you are observing without labeling the pattern as something intentional, or even conscious. Avoid turning the learned helplessness into who they are. Frame it as something that they are doing and offer examples of how it is impacting their life. Let them know you love them and care about them. Express hope that their life can change and get better, even when they are incapable of believing that.
Written by: Deanna Diamond, LPC




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