My H's grandfather is a Holocaust survivor. He is a wonderful, strong, open-hearted man. (His family was executed in front of him, leaving him orphaned at 9.) While some of his other relatives squawked about my marrying into the family, he always welcomed me with open arms, which I think speaks many, many volumes about his character. I could write a huge long post about how awesome he is.

And yet, there are many ways in which he is very emotionally fragile. It's just not obvious -- I feel like that trauma manifests itself in other ways.

Totally agree with what lolagrace said about the sense of community. What helped my H's grandpa survive was the fact that the Jewish community was small and threatened, and they helped each other. He is also a man of faith. I also agree that therapy wasn't much of a thing back then, and I get the sense from my H's family that therapy isn't something they really embrace even now. They can be close-minded about some things.

I'm a little wary of what I'm going to say next because I'm afraid of coming of as cynical and dismissive, and so I'll just preface it by saying I'm just pointing out a reality, and I have no idea how much it really comes into play. But I'm encouraged by the people who talk about survivors who did NOT come out undamaged, who DO carry a large burden, which may be silent but gets passed onto later generations. And that is that the people who are willing to talk, and who are most celebrated, are often the ones who have done best. It's unclear why some people are really resilient to this level of trauma -- in fact several of my colleagues study exactly this -- but we do know that some people really are. They don't suffer NO damage, but they do manage to come through and do pretty well.

You're just less likely to read about the people who committed suicide (which even now has a lot of shame attached to it, even more back then), or who have been bitter and angry the rest of their lives. You're more likely to hear about people who were met with unspeakable horror, but triumphed over adversity. No one wants to hear "Ever since my uncle left the camp, he's been a real a s s hole." Of course you can totally understand why someone might be just so hurt and traumatized that they could never associate properly with people again, so you'd forgive a man for being a jerk the rest of his life after something like that. But it's not the story we want to hear.

And also, it's a little easier for other people to be understanding about traumas that are obvious. While the Jews continue to have a hard time in many parts of the world, within their community, it's known what it means to have come out of the camps. But if you have a "hidden" illness, like depression, it can be harder to find support. Indeed, it's not like the Jewish community is much different from others in terms of domestic violence and abuse -- people are still people, and when it's something they don't have to see directly, they can dismiss it. A tattooed number on your hand is harder to ignore.

Bottom line is, yes, there are ways to make it without therapy. Some people would have made it without therapy anyway, and some people were done well by their close-knit community and faith. There are people who didn't make it, though. And there are aspects of the story and how it is told in some instances (I second the recommendation of "Night") that can lead to a person overemphasizing the ability to get past such a trauma, which for some people is a real struggle.

In other words, there is nothing wrong with using something other than therapy to get through the personal ugliness someone may encounter, and there is also nothing wrong with using therapy. And the magnitude of the ugliness isn't a fair comparison. We all have to do what we have to do.