The (Potential, Though Unlikely) Silver Lining of the January 6th Insurrection

As someone who has been living with complex post-traumatic stress disorder (C-PTSD) for a very long time, I have a theory. My expectations are low, but nothing drives home a point like being smacked in the face with the evidence.

London Graves
4 min readFeb 12, 2021
Photo by Camila Quintero Franco on Unsplash

My partner and I were listening to NPR’s live broadcast of the events as they unfolded on January 6. We could scarcely believe what we were hearing. It’s a huge cliche, but as Americans, we often think and act as if certain things are impossible in this country.

On the night of the election in 2016, I felt a similar sort of way: it was such a bizarre thing to watch happen. My dad and I were watching it live, and I felt helpless and horrified by it.

That was a lifetime ago. I wanted to be wrong about what I believed at that point. No, really. I wanted that administration to do great things for everyone and blow me away with its awesomeness, because it seemed so terrible, I could hardly believe how bad it promised to be.

Instead, it lived down to my expectations and then some, and it seemed to get worse every single day. That was before the pandemic.

The pandemic is another thing that a lot of folks couldn’t quite comprehend until it happened. I would submit that the pandemic, along with the insurrection and the presidency of Agent Orange itself, were impossible for us to fully grasp, not just because “that couldn’t happen here,” but moreso because of the magnitude of each of the problems.

Think about a black hole, something so dense, with such a powerful gravitational pull, that light itself can’t escape. We can picture it… sort of. But the magnitude of the thing holds us back from fully “getting it.” I’d argue the same thought applies to the notion of infinity and very large numbers and objects. After some point, our brains just go, “it’s really big,” and call it a day.

This is how I think about the insurrection, and it makes a really good metaphor for trauma itself.

There are many ways to look at and explain PTSD. In terms of my own experiences, I think of it as something that happens when your brain can’t handle processing one or more experiences you’ve had.

Sometimes, this manifests as blocking out or repressing all or part of the relevant memories. This may be an attempt on the part of the brain to protect itself and the consciousness when dealing with it in the moment is just impossible, for whatever reasons.

What I’m getting at is, if you don’t have PTSD, you may not know much about it. (And what I’ve described barely scratches the surface.) If you do develop PTSD, though, it’s liable to change your outlook on things like therapy and mental health.

While I would not wish it upon anyone, it is statistically likely that some of those among the officials and staffers in the Capitol on January 6 will develop some degree of mental health difficulties in the wake of that event. For some of them, it may be the first time they have ever experienced anything like it.

I hate that this happened. But if there’s a silver lining to be had, other than the 45th president being barred from holding federal office ever again, it’s this: they may learn to value mental health support services in a way that they didn’t before. I’m hoping that this results in more funding being allocated to create and support organizations that do this kind of work and help people who experience these kinds of problems.

I say that I’m hopeful, and I am. But being hopeful and expecting change are two different things. In the film Charlie Wilson’s War, Joanne asks Charlie, “Why is Congress saying one thing and doing nothing?” Charlie, true to form, responds, “Tradition, mostly.”

He’s not wrong. But given everything that’s gone on in the last five years, including but not limited to the pandemic and the insurrection on January 6, I imagine more people than ever would benefit from programs that support mental healthcare as well as mental health literacy. When I say “literacy,” I mean being informed about the kinds of mental health services that exist, who can benefit from them, and how they can be accessed, even if you don’t have a lot of money.

It’s also worth noting that, if you do seek out mental health resources, you have the right to be treated with dignity and respect. If you’re seeing a clinician who behaves in a disrespectful or otherwise unbecoming manner, or one that makes you feel uncomfortable, you should say something to their boss or a trusted third party.

The fact that these things will be new information to many is one of many reasons why I’m about to say the following: traumatized congresspeople will now understand a little bit more about why mental health services are so important — and why they can become extremely important to a person very quickly, when that person may never have considered seeking out that kind of help before.

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London Graves

Queer vegan cryptid trying their best to survive late-stage capitalism while helping others do the same.