The people who I have met who speak about their “trauma” tend to be decadent elites with enough time for extensive psychotherapy and the acute knowledge that, in a democracy, they are not *victims* and yet somehow need to attain that sweet, sweet victim status; hence they discover, particularly women and physically weak men, that they have been “abused” and “traumatised”; they then ruminate over their supposed wound—milk it for attention and status points.
I have noticed that such people are often ruthless and nasty with “the little people”; indeed, I encountered one man, a trust-funder, who extensively examined his “trauma” with pseudo-artistic projects. He volunteered in a charity shop to fill the hours; and yet he had nothing but contempt for the derelicts who came in to buy second-hand clothes—he made savage little caricatures of them; snobbish and resentful. All the while he struggled to recall his “trauma”—perhaps he was abused by his nanny? If only he could remember…
He struggled to remember because nothing bad had ever happened to him; in a sense, that was his problem—his life had been easy. Yet he needed to be special, he needed to be one with the mob—he needed “trauma”. Everything is floaty and vague with these people—floaty and vague like the very words “trauma” and “abuse”, words that could cover anything from the time your dad locked you out for three hours as a punishment to some savage step-parental beat down and rape in a basement. The professional trauma victim always keeps it vague and floaty because nothing bad has ever happened to them—even therapy discovers nothing.
However, there is one redemptive element in the ideas psychology has spawned about trauma: psychologists have observed that a traumatised person often experiences a split, they divide into a pseudo-mature exterior that navigates the world smoothly while inside they remain stuck at the age the trauma occurred—in Nietzschean terms, they never experience any genuine growth; all they have is the pseudo-mature shell that lets them navigate the world in a superficial way. This is effectively a dissociative state.
I think that the West, as a civilisational bloc, has experienced an analogous trauma reaction. Events that have contributed to this collective dissociative state: the Black Plague, the French Revolution, the First World War, the Second World War—and, possibly, the advent of Christianity and the destruction of pagan rites (the trees were chopped down). In the post-war period, most Westerners have grown up in a media and educational environment that is unremittingly anti-Western and anti-white. I think this collective trauma explains why so-called normiecons are so corny; they represent the pseudo-mature carapace that conceals genuine trauma: their talk about civility, manners, and so on is so ridiculously disconnected from the situation in which they live—one in which their civilisation has been nuked from orbit. They are corny like a precocious trauma victim in his three-piece suit at seventeen.
Example: at school in the mid-1990s I met two boys who went on and on about their Irish heritage and about Cromwell’s “genocide” at Drogheda—I was bad because I was “English”, hence evil; except these boys were less Celtic that I am, since I am half Welsh. Reality: they were English boys who were so brainwashed that Englishness is evil and low status that they, as intelligent members of the middle class, disowned the category at age twelve; the self-hatred is steamed into the psyche that early. At the time it bewildered me, it took me decades to realise why they learned to hate so early. In 2016, I met an American graduate and asked him where he was from. He eyed me suspiciously and said, “I don’t think I’m allowed to answer that question.” It was only later I learned American graduates are indoctrinated not to answer the “racist” question—since the regime wants to achieve total deracination and, in effect, a total dissociative state maintained with consumerism, Netflix, and Disney+.