Falling in Quicksand

A SCARS Institute Scam Victim Recovery Insight

Quicksand: The Hidden Peril and Its Parallel to Trauma Recovery

Yes, quicksand is a real thing! I have personally experienced it.

Quicksand is one of nature’s most insidious traps, a phenomenon that has captured the human imagination forever. It is not always, as often depicted in movies, a bottomless pit that will swallow you whole. But sometimes it is.

In reality, quicksand is a non-Newtonian fluid, a mixture of sand, silt, clay, and water that has become saturated with so much water that it can no longer support weight. Its most terrifying characteristic is its ability to hide in plain sight, appearing as solid, stable ground until it is too late. A riverbank, a tidal flat, the bottom of a revine, the trough between two sand dunes, or a marshy area can look completely innocuous, but beneath the surface lies a trap waiting for the right amount of pressure to be applied.

I know this firsthand, since I had my own experience with quicksand in 1975. I was a student of anthrology & archeology in Costa Rica at the time. I was on a walkabout in the deep rainforests of southern Costa Rica. Coming down from a ridge to the gap between it and the next ridge was a stream (though during rain it could become a raging river). While trying to cross this stream, I stepped on a sandbar and sank instantly up to my waist. Some quicksand is formed by stagnant water, these cause you to sink by your movement, but those near streams and rivers can have water flowing through the under the surface. These can pull you down even without much movement. Some may be over sinkholes that can go way down. In this case, I froze, lay back on my back to float. Slowly, I swam across the surface of it and survived to tell the tale.

The mechanism of quicksand is a masterclass in deception. What makes it so dangerous is the hidden, powerful force beneath the surface. An underground source of water, like a spring or a flowing stream, that saturates the ground from below. This upward flow of water pushes apart the grains of sand, suspending them in the liquid and destroying the friction that normally gives soil its strength. The surface may have a thin crust that looks and feels solid, but it is a fragile facade. The moment a person or animal steps onto it, this crust collapses, and the victim is instantly engulfed. The more they struggle, the more they agitate the mixture, turning what was once semi-solid into a viscous liquid that pulls them deeper.

The struggle itself is the most critical and tragic element of the quicksand trap. The instinctual human reaction to sinking is to thrash, to kick, to pull oneself out with frantic effort. This is precisely the wrong approach. Violent movement forces more water into the sand around the trapped limb, liquefying it further and creating a powerful suction effect. Every desperate movement makes the situation worse, creating a terrifying feedback loop where the victim’s efforts to save themselves are the very thing that seals their fate. The harder they fight, the faster they sink, leading to panic, exhaustion, and eventual submersion. Does this remind you of something?

This natural phenomenon serves as a powerful and poignant parallel for the experience of a traumatized scam victim navigating the treacherous terrain of recovery. The initial scam and its discovery is the step onto the false ground, the moment their reality collapses beneath them. The trauma that follows, the emotional and psychological fallout, is the quicksand itself. It is a non-Newtonian state of being, where the solid ground of their identity, trust, and security has been liquefied by the invasive flow of deception and betrayal. Like quicksand, this trauma can hide in plain sight. To an outside observer, the victim may appear functional, going through the motions of daily life, but beneath the surface, they are trapped, struggling in a viscous mixture of shame, self-blame, and hypervigilance.

The deeper water flow is the perfect metaphor for the ongoing psychological mechanisms that keep the trauma alive. Just as the underground spring destabilizes the ground, the constant replay of memories, the “what ifs” and “if onlys,” and the profound sense of violation continue to churn beneath the surface, preventing the victim’s inner world from solidifying again. This internal current keeps the grains of their self-worth suspended, making it impossible to find stable footing. The victim is stuck, not because they aren’t trying, but because the very nature of their psychological state is working against them.

The most devastating parallel lies in the victim’s struggle. The scam survivor, like the person in quicksand, instinctively fights; they often panic in the early days. They frantically try to get their money back, seek justice, and find anyone to help them. They try to “get over it,” to “shake it off,” to force themselves to feel normal again. They berate themselves for not healing faster, pushing themselves to re-engage with life before they are ready. This mental and emotional struggle is the equivalent of thrashing in quicksand. Every act of forced positivity, every moment of self-criticism for not being “fixed,” every desperate attempt to trust again before they are ready, only agitates the trauma further. It liquefies their fragile emotional stability, pulling them deeper into the pit of shame, anxiety, and despair. The harder they fight their own mind and emotions, the more trapped they become.

The way out of quicksand, as survival experts teach, is counterintuitive. It requires stillness. One must stop struggling, relax, and slowly, methodically lie back to float, inflating their lungs for buoyancy, wiggle their legs very slowly to allow water to seep in and loosen the suction. By increasing their surface area and slowly, patiently redistributing their weight, they can gradually float to the surface and inch their way to solid ground. It is a process that requires patience, calm, and a complete rejection of instinctual panic.

This is precisely the path through trauma. Escape from the quicksand of scam victimization begins with the radical act of acceptance, of stopping the struggle. It means acknowledging that healing is not a battle to be won but a process to be endured. It requires self-compassion instead of self-criticism, and the patience to allow the emotional sediment to slowly settle. It requires deliberate slowness instead of a panicked rush. Professional support, from therapists and specialized recovery groups, acts like a lifeline, providing stable ground to pull toward. The journey out is slow, deliberate, and often feels backward, but it is the only way. Just as one cannot fight quicksand with force, a scam victim cannot conquer their trauma with willpower alone. Both require a surrender to the process, a deep breath of stillness, and the patient, slow work of finding solid ground once more.

Prof. Tim McGuinness, Ph.D.
May 2026