Letās face it, PTSD is a label. Having a diagnosis can be very helpful as it allows clients to access appropriate resources and supports. However, it doesnāt accurately reflect the experience of recovering from trauma.
When healthy people are repeatedly exposed to traumatic and dangerous situations, itās normal that thereās a residual effect. Like an athlete that runs too many marathons without enough recovery time, injuries are sustained that can be lingering or career-threatening.
The word ādisorderā does a disservice to the injuries suffered by those who put themselves in harmās way in the course of their work. People with PTSD are not disordered, they are injured. Their wounds originate from repeated or severe exposure to trauma. Thereās nothing disordered about that, itās a natural and predictable reaction to unnatural events or situations.
Just because itās invisible, doesnāt mean itās not real. Weāre going to increasingly be using the term PTSI in our communications. These injuries are significant, severe, and potentially life threatening if not tended to in a thoughtful, compassionate manner. As with any injury, thereās a continuum of severity, ranging from mildly disruptive to debilitating. Not everyone who has these injuries is the same. The mechanism of injury, presentation of symptoms, and severity of harm may vary from person to person. Nonetheless, everyone has an equal right to access treatment and care in a timely manner.
Disorders are something we stick in the corner and donāt quite know what to do with. Injuries are something we heal. So we get it, without the label, itās impossible to access appropriate care. But between you and me, weāll be calling it an injury.
Warm wishes,
Belinda Seagram, Ph.D., R. Psych. Executive Director, Landing Strong
Glancing through Facebook, itās easy to believe that for most people, life is a series of joyful moments. Even knowing that social media is a highlight reel of peopleās lives, itās easy to start believing that others are always happy.
In reality, I think of life as more of a climb. Some days a struggle, but most often a climb.
Iāve had the opportunity to climb Mount Kilimanjaro twice. The night before the summit push is long, cold, dark, and tortuous. There are many times I asked myself why I was doing it. Reaching Uhuru peak at the break of dawn, it all made sense. When weāre in the struggle, itās often hard to see the point. Glancing back in the darkness, the distant glow of headlamps of the other groups weaving their way up the mountain reminded me of how far weād come, even though we werenāt yet at the top.
We judged our movement by the needs of the group, taking breaks if people were struggling, telling stories, and singing songs when spirits needed to be lifted. We knew we were going to do this as a team, and that we would leave no one behind.
By husband Joe has led over 7 school groups up Kilimanjaro. Of the people who attempt to summit Kilimanjaro, about 50% are successful. With these school groups, after months of training, group work, and team building, the success rate is almost 100%. What I have learned from this, is that we work best in teams. The second time I summitted felt harder than the first. Although the photos look the same, they represent two completely different experiences. Both of which were preceded by many months of training.
Perhaps life is like this, a climb, punctuated by triumphs and joyful moments. If Iām not having fun today, thatās okay, as long as Iām content with the longer term journey. Wherever you are on your journey, we invite you to reach out and join us as we move forward, together.
Warm wishes,
Belinda Seagram, Ph.D., R. Psych. Executive Director, Landing Strong
This week, I devoted time to sort through stuff in my basement with the intention of clearing out junk that has accumulated over the years. I found a box filled with all of my report cards from elementary school to the end of high school, as well as some journals, creative writing assignments, and art books. Iāve always believed that life is about constant change, striving to be a better person, growing, adapting and taking on new challenges. Looking back at my younger self, Iām not so sure that Iāve actually changed. Thereās a consistency to who Iāve always been thatās reflected through the art, writing, and report cards of my younger self.
Striving for personal growth, fighting for social justice, practicing the voice of leadership, and expressing my thoughts through writing and art are themes that have been consistent through my entire life.
Even in grade five, my stories were about trauma and redemption. I wrote about hardship, regrouping, and finding the strength to get life back on track. In all of these stories, people had to trust in themselves and others in order to move forward.
There are many days in my adult life where I question myself, and wonder if I have what it takes. Looking back, I realize Iām on the right path. Some days, Iāll do it well. Some daysā¦ not so much.
Despite how much I think Iāve changed, maybe underneath it all weāre not that much different from who weāve always been. The gifts weāre born with that make us unique, are there from the beginning. Itās a matter of how much we honour and develop them that determines whether or not we’re on the right path.
If youāre injured or finding yourself off-track, itās likely not because youāre a different person now, but rather, that you havenāt yet figured out how to continue being the person youāve always been.
Weāre not just a trauma recovery centre. Weāre also a centre for resiliency and personal growth, for both those who have been injured as well as those who love and support them.
If youāre interested, we still have space in our next caregiver program. Honour who youāve always been, but learn to take care of yourself in the process.
Warm wishes,
Belinda Seagram, Ph.D., R. Psych. Executive Director, Landing Strong
Do you remember dreaming of snow days as a child? Iād cross my fingers in hopes that school would be cancelled. Snow day. These two beautiful words evoke excitement and anticipation, with the thought of an unstructured and unsupervised day laying ahead. Even as we grow older, the freedom associated with snow days persists. Some of us might make a last-minute rush to the grocery store to stock up on storm chips. Others might curl up on the couch for Netflix marathons.
Although I know that heavy snowfalls will precipitate massive cancellations in my client schedule, I have to confessā¦ a part of me gets excited. Iāll have a whole day of no structure, and little supervision. What kind of trouble can I get myself into, I wonder?
Okay, I know Iāll end up using this time to catch up on overdue work. But itās incredibly satisfying knowing that I donāt have to.
At Landing Strong, we recognize that snow days arenāt as much fun for everyone. Driving in such conditions is stressful. For those of you in first responder roles, we acknowledge that you are putting your coats on as we are coming home and taking ours off. For this, we thank you.
Snow days are a reminder that the emotional meaning of current events is coloured by the lens of past experiences. What might be positive for one person could be alarming or stressful to another. Trauma is like that too.
Trauma isnāt about what happens to us, rather, itās the personal meaning of the event in the context of our lives thatās important.
Thatās why we canāt judge othersā reactions to things when they differ from ours. We havenāt walked in their shoes, or seen things through the lens of their experiences. By seeking to understand, we diminish the aloneness of their experience.
Warm wishes,
Belinda Seagram, Ph.D., R. Psych. Executive Director, Landing Strong
I fully enjoyed my holidays, but have to admitā¦the thought of returning to work is somewhat daunting.
I canāt help but think of the large to do list awaiting me. The tightness in my chest serves as a reminder that I may be expecting too much of myself. I donāt think Iām alone in this regard.
āI am the architect of my universe,ā I remind myself. āIf I donāt like the way something feels, itās no oneās job but mine to change itā.
I decided to set aside some time this afternoon and draw up lists. Get those āto doā things out of my head and onto paper. I assigned them priorities. The list isnāt actually as long as I thought.
The beauty of the sun glistening on the lake reminds me that deadlines are arbitrary. There is really nothing that is urgent: no one is going to die if I donāt get it all done immediately. Instead of things I have to do, Iāll view my tasks as things I can feel good about accomplishing.
Most importantly, Iāll make sure to add a bunch of fun and creative things to my list. If this is to be my job description for the next yearā¦I want it to be creative, engaging and enjoyable.
I add an extra listā¦creative hobby ideas, and feel myself lighten.
Changing the world might be important, but so is enjoying the day š
Warm wishes,
Belinda Seagram, Ph.D., R. Psych. Executive Director, Landing Strong
Heās Dougās dog. Max may greet you cheerfully when you walk in the door at Landing Strong. Wagging his fluffy white tail while showing off his fabulous winter sweater.
Max comes in to work because he hasnāt had an easy time lately. His lifelong companion Murphy passed away and the adjustment has been hard on him. Always together, Max suddenly found himself without his best friend. When I first met Max he was sad and somewhat withdrawn. Overtime, heās growing in confidence and is coming out of his bed more often. The more he interacts, the better he does.
Grief is like that. Isolating and all encompassing. It makes it hard to get up and go outā¦particularly if all we want to do is lie in bed. The thing is, grief is not meant to be experienced alone. Thereās power and strength in expressing the roar of pain associated with loss. Pain is meant to be seen and heardā¦thatās why we cry out. Itās an invitation for connectionā¦for recovery never happens in isolation.
Extending our thoughts and hearts to each and every one of you who are experiencing the pain of loss. Know that you are not alone.
Warm wishes,
Belinda Seagram, Ph.D., R. Psych. Executive Director, Landing Strong
This week I looked out the window and noticed a flurry of tiny snowflakes making their way down from the skies. Weather forecasters were calling for a large storm, and I knew that was going to make for a complicated day at the office.
āSmall flakes big snowā one of the clients mentioned on their way out, āget your snow shovels ready!ā
Iāve heard that expression before, and wondered about its origins. Is there some ancient wisdom Iām unaware of that would allow me to be able to better predict my day simply by looking at the size of snowflakes? A few minutes of google research later, I realize itās not quite so simple. Warmer temperatures lead to higher water content, and thus larger flakes. Colder atmospheric temperature forms smaller flakes because there isnāt as much sticky stuff to hold the flakes together. So in a way Itās true: if itās warm outside it isnāt likely to stay snowy for longā¦it might turn to slushy wet stuff or rain. Small snowflakes and lower temperatures are a sign that whatever falls is likely to hang around for longer.
It strikes me that change is a bit like the snow. If we try to do too much too soon (large flakes) it isnāt likely to be lasting. Small repeated steps in the right direction, however, accumulate over time and can lead to a mountain of change. If we turn the heat up on ourselves too quickly, itās not sustainable. If I want to take up running, for example, and start by trying to run 5 km at once, itās likely too much. Sure I did it some years ago, but that doesnāt mean my body will recognize that movement now. A series of small steps, building up over time will increase my stamina so that Iām better equipped to do the run. Maybe a better goal is to start walking 10,000 steps a day instead. If I want any positive change to be lasting, easing in with gradual small changes is the way to go.
Keeping in line with our New Year commitment to self-compassion, I will embrace my inner (running) warrior, and enjoy pleasant walks through the snow this winter. Enjoying each small flake as it accumulates into something bigger. Maybe you will too?
Warm wishes,
Belinda Seagram, Ph.D., R. Psych. Executive Director, Landing Strong
The Holidays can be a difficult time for many, with increased expectations around social engagements, drinking, crowds and overindulgences. What if we simply focus on what the holiday spirit truly means. No matter what our spiritual beliefs may be, itās a time when people come together to celebrate, offer support to one another, and reflect on the passing year.
Itās undeniably a time of year where shopping, preparing elaborate meals, and commercialism seemingly take over. Itās also true that almost half of all charitable donations made by Canadians happen in the last two months of the year. This suggests that despite the stress associated with the season, itās a time when people are thinking of those who face more challenging circumstances.
In the midst of one of the busiest times of the year, we are able to set aside our differences and recognize our shared humanity. When people are spending the most and perhaps are feeling the stress of their financial state, they recognize that this discomfort isnāt temporary for many. When they are surrounded by those they love, thoughts turn to those who may not be as fortunate.
We hope youāre able to take some time over the holidays to reflect on all the small things that are meaningful to you in your life. We are grateful for our connection with you, our sense of shared purpose as we support those who are injured, and our appreciation for those who continue to put themselves in harmās way so we may be safe.
Warmest wishes for a safe and happy holiday season,
Belinda Seagram, Ph.D., R. Psych. Executive Director, Landing Strong
High performance athletes canāt always do whatās expected. Occasionally, they might have a minor sprain or injury that needs nurturing. In the case of a major setback, they might be on the sidelines for a longer period of time. This doesnāt mean they arenāt a top performer. It simply means that no matter what weāre good at, or what weāre trying to work on, none of us can be good at it all of the time.
Sometimes when we have a setback, it might be easy to doubt whether weāve made any progress at all.
āMaybe the good mood I had last month wasnāt real…ā
āI feel like Iām back at square oneā
āI thought I was doing so much better, what does it mean now that Iām really struggling?ā
As in any journey, the path has peaks and valleys. The emotions you feel at any one point in time will never be a constant. True, the good times will passā¦ but so will the bad.
The most important thing to remember in those moments of self-doubt is thatās the time to reach out. Itās totally counter-intuitive, but a certain way to turn things around quickly. When we most want to retreat, thatās actually when we need to advance.
Donāt wait until youāre feeling good to join one of our groupsā¦ it would be a very empty room if we all took that approach. Take a look at the programs weāre offering in the new year and see if thereās one that seems right for you. Thereās a seat waiting for you.
Warm regards,
Belinda Seagram, Ph.D., R. Psych. Executive Director, Landing Strong
This week, Iām on the South Shore running an intensive Veterans Retreat. Itās a chance to disconnect from everything, and spend uninterrupted time devoted to assisting injured veterans and first responders recover from trauma exposure.
We sit in a close knit circle, and start each morning by asking participants how they slept, and whether they had any new insights following the work we did on the previous day. Most importantly, we ask them if they had any dreams. Whether theyāre good or bad, Iāve come to appreciate the value of dreams in trauma recovery.
No one likes having nightmares. As children, weāre taught to try to not think about them, distracting ourselves from the images that most disturb us.
The problem with trying to suppress thoughts is that it keeps them bubbling to the surface while we sleep. Letās call it our nocturnal internal guidance system.
The brain knows what it wants to process. Whether we like it or not, bad dreams are our mindās way of letting us know that we have unprocessed memories or emotions that need unloading.
So, I bet you know what Iām going to say nextā¦the only way to stop the bad dreams is to work through the underlying cause.
Itās only by shining a light on our darkest places that we are able to remove the threatā¦ see what needs to be seen so that we can move forward.
Strange as it seems, dreams (good or bad) are our friends. They serve as our inner compass, pointing us in the direction of where we need to look.
So instead of shying away from bad dreams, consider leaning forward, taking a closer look at what your subconscious is trying to tell you. Itāll generally point you in the direction of health.
Warm regards,
Belinda Seagram, Ph.D., R. Psych. Executive Director, Landing Strong
