When the recent fires swept through nearby Pacific Palisades, all the gas and electricity were shut off in Malibu. Without a working generator, we had no heat, no power, no internet, no phone, and no way of knowing how closely the fires were encroaching. Like so many others during that hellish time, we had no choice but to evacuate.
We were fortunate; our home survived the inferno. And we survived, too, although not without some emotional burn scars of our own. Too many dear friends had lost all they owned.
Mother Nature, which has blessed our neighborhood with so much beauty, had revealed her vengeful alter ego. Life as we once knew it would never be the same. They have an obvious reason to mourn, and everyone acknowledges their right to suffer. I hear it over and over again—in the supermarket, on social media , in the neighborhood as I walk the dog.
People who were lucky enough to escape the worst outcome of this natural disaster seem to feel guilty about their good fortune and deny they have any reason at all to complain about their experience. It jumped her pool and scorched her backyard, but firefighters were able to contain it before it reached her house. This disconcerted me enough that I decided to do some research into survivor guilt—and what I discovered surprised me.
Given its prevalence and diagnostic significance, one would think that a great deal of study has been devoted to understanding and treating it. As a mental health advocate, this deeply concerns me because survivor guilt is associated with higher levels of suicidality.
