Living with the impacts of trauma can be a daily battle, one rarely acknowledged by society at large. Survivors have little choice but to wade through the complexities of rebuilding their lives while struggling to function in a culture offering little support to those who don’t conform to its strict standards.
As a domestic abuse survivor diagnosed with Complex Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (CPTSD), I share my journey in the hopes of supporting fellow survivors. My recent experience with a predatory towing company highlights the many ways oppressive practices can trigger distress and trauma symptoms. It also serves as a reminder that these companies tend to disproportionately target those who are already in vulnerable circumstances with few resources to fight back.
Tow woes
Last week, I was forced to move into a new apartment after being wildly priced out of my old one. I’d been paying $350+ over my base rent in hidden fees, the strain of which already had me reconsidering staying for another year. My decision was made for me when my lease renewal offer came and I learned my base rent was increasing by almost $400. I had no choice but to find a new place to call home.
While searching for an apartment is always stressful, it can be especially anxiety-inducing for an abuse survivor. They’re likely to be understandably preoccupied with safety and security concerns as a result of the trauma they endured. They may have escaped with limited social or financial resources. They could also be grappling with physical and/or mental injuries. The added pressures of this major life change: unclear timelines, financial strain, and competitive markets to name a few, can exacerbate feelings of instability and overwhelm.
I was fortunate to find an affordable place just minutes from friends, my climbing gym, and the base of a gorgeous mountain I couldn’t wait to explore. While I was sad to leave the first home I’d found since escaping my abuser nearly three years ago, I tried to remain optimistic about what I viewed as an exciting new chapter.
On the fourth morning in the new place, I awoke early for a slow start before running errands. I enjoyed some light stretching while drinking my morning coffee; it was starting out to be a beautiful day. That is, until I headed to the parking lot, only to freeze in confusion when I discovered my car missing from its assigned spot.
Disrespect and profiteering
If this has ever happened to you, it’s a disorienting, instantly day-ruining feeling. Trying to remain calm, I called my rental company as no one was in the office. No answer. I then tried the number for a towing company I found on a sign. No answer.
After twenty minutes and some progressively more agitated voicemails to both numbers, I was at a loss. I called the police to report my car stolen, only to be told it had, in fact, been towed at 11:30 p.m. the evening prior. Unfortunately, they weren’t able to provide information as to why it was towed or to what address.
The towing company sign listed five potential locations, so I had no choice but to call repeatedly for another thirty minutes until an operator finally answered, sounding very much as though she’d been intentionally ignoring my previous attempts and was annoyed I hadn’t given up on trying to locate my fucking car.
It turns out I was supposed to have a parking sticker in order to park in my assigned spot, something I was not made aware of upon moving in. My welcome packet did include two stickers with the apartment logo on them, which I’d been told were “guest passes”. Apparently, I was supposed to intuit that one of these was for my own vehicle.
When I explained I’d moved in a few days prior and had been misinformed about the stickers, the operator, tone dripping in smug critique, said their operators had no way of knowing that. I asked why I hadn’t received a written warning (I’d seen one stuck to a car in one of the lot’s unassigned spots while looking for the tow number) or at least a knock on my door since I’d obviously been home. Apparently, the company automatically tows violations found on overnight patrol.
I hung up and dissolved into exasperated tears. This is a gated complex, why all the restrictions when I’m already paying extra to park here? How would unauthorized vehicles even get in? I’d given the rental company my vehicle information when they moved in, shouldn’t they know which car is supposed to park in which spot?
On top of all of that, how could a company be so callous as to not give people a chance to correct a simple, tiny error? I was 15 steps away, watching tv on my couch, unaware I was violating any rules. It would’ve taken that towing operator far less time and effort to contact me than it would have to tow my car.
But compassion isn’t as profitable as exploitation.
My partner left work on their lunch break to drive me the 30 minutes to a shady-ass tow yard, where I was forced to pay a $170 fine to get my car back. For. A. Sticker. My heart sank as I thought about how I’d already had to pay rent on both my old and new apartments this month, along with a security deposit.
When I finally got ahold of my rental company hours later, I was told I’d violated my lease and there was nothing they could do. The closest I got to any sort of apology was that they were relieved I had the sticker now so this “misunderstanding” wouldn’t happen again.
Reviving past trauma
This predatory incident triggered a cascade of distressing emotions and memories. It reminded me of the many past experiences of being manipulated, punished, and humiliated for actions I didn’t understand or intend. The unexpected loss of freedom, coupled with the confusion and degrading treatment I was subjected to, reinforced the deep-seated shame and self-blame that often accompany abuse.
Heightened anxiety and hyper-vigilance are common symptoms of CPTSD, feelings that were intensified by this incident. These symptoms can cause extreme distress, disrupt daily functioning, and hinder progress in healing. This ordeal brought me back to the many times I was made to feel small, insignificant, and guilty by an unsympathetic oppressor.
Confinement, disruption, and invasion of space
The concepts of safety and stability hold immense significance for survivors. This incident shattered the delicate sense of security I’d begun building in my new apartment, leaving me feeling exposed and activated. It disrupted my entire day and caused me to miss several important appointments and plans, hindering my ability to engage in activities and routines that contribute to my overall well-being.
Financial stability is often a hard-won achievement for those struggling with trauma. This is especially true if, as in my case, the abuser’s control extended to finances. Being forced to pay a significant sum of money to retrieve my car due to a miscommunication felt deeply unjust.
Moving into a new apartment is supposed to be a fresh start in a safe place. Having my car seized without warning shattered that illusion and left me feeling powerless. It prompted thoughts of the many times my independence and autonomy were restricted by my abuser’s controlling behaviors, including times when he’d confiscate my keys to keep me physically unable to leave.
Shame and negative self perception
Abusive individuals often manipulate survivors into feeling ashamed and humiliated, often for things that are out of their control. The disrespect I was subjected to while trying to retrieve my car reinforced internal feelings of unworthiness ingrained through five years of manipulation.
The tow operator spoke as though I was careless for allowing my car to be towed due to what I’m sure they assumed was a disregard for the rules rather than ignorance of them. As I tried to reason with my leasing agent about the extenuating circumstances, knowing they’d do nothing, I again felt judged and dehumanized for information I couldn’t have known.
Injustice and exploitation
As abuse survivors, we’re no strangers to systems and policies failing us. This incident was yet another instance of a corrupt policy designed to prioritize power, profit, and control over the well-being of those it allegedly serves. It exposed the flaws in a procedure that disproportionately burdens those already struggling, reinforcing barriers to progress that keep them stuck.
Why do we make it so hard to live? Why are we thrusting these obstacles upon people who are already burdened with their already full and busy lives? It seems like these complex and discordant rules are designed to do nothing more than trip people up, giving those in power authority to shit on and exploit people just because they can. This keeps targets trapped without recourse, desperately toiling to better their circumstances while being blind-sighted by endless roadblocks along the way.
Reinforcing helplessness
This incident served as a reminder of the ways the inflexible systems designed to govern our lives fail us, perpetuating an already rampant cycle of victim-blaming and disempowerment. Just as abusers exert control and unforeseen consequences on survivors, this automatic towing policy stripped me of my agency and subjected me to unexpected repercussions.
The lack of warning or chance to rectify the situation before retaliation recalled the helplessness I felt with my abuser, where I regularly faced punishment for things I couldn’t control. Despite my attempts to communicate the extenuating circumstances, I was met with indifference and dismissal. This reinforced the sense that no matter how hard vulnerable populations try to navigate these bureaucratic mazes, the burden of consequences falls disproportionately on their shoulders.
Societal consequences
This terrible welcome left me resentful of my new home. As we’ve explored, mistreating tenants is a recipe for conditions in a community to deteriorate. Does the rental company think tenants will take pride in maintaining the property after they’ve shown such undue force? Typically I’d go out of my way to pick up trash around shared community spaces, but now? Not my problem. Less than a week into my lease and I know I won’t be re-signing next year.
By highlighting the parallels between these rigid systems and abusive tactics, we can recognize the urgent need for change and advocate for more compassionate, trauma-informed procedures. I envision a future where survivors are no longer subjected to further harm trying to navigate an unsympathetic society. A future where those in power support the most vulnerable members of their community rather than punching down.