āMom can we go to Italy?ā my daughter called out to me when she was little. Wondering why she would ask such a thing, I enquired further, āWhy do you want to go to Italy honey?ā
āBecause it would make me happy,” she replied.
āHappy?ā
āYes happy!ā she explained, staring at me like I was missing the obvious.
āBut why Italy?ā I prodded. “Because mom, thatās where they make Nutella, the Nutella Factory is in Italy, and Nutella makes me happy so we should go there.ā
The basic wisdom of her logic touched me. So simple. Going to the people and places that make us happy. Iām not talking about quick gratification… the quick sugar high that comes from eating half a cheesecake in one sitting, or a buzz after too many beers. Iām talking about the pleasure of an evening spent with someone we care about, or doing something that fills us with joy. Mindfully constructing our day so that each contains an element of beauty.
PTSD, anxiety, and depression are all about avoidance. The only problem is, the withdrawal that is associated with protecting ourselves also eliminates new possibilitiesā¦ like visiting the Nutella Factory.
It really stinks… a corner in the reception area of my office, that is. I canāt figure out why. Iāve looked everywhere for the source of the smell, but I canāt find it. Normally the waiting room area is a fresh sunny place where people comment on the pleasing environment and smells. Our yard is full of blooming lilacs, the apple blossoms are out, and the garden is wonderful. But this does not seem to be transferring to the inside. Not this week at least.
Emily Lane, our Office Manager, who works on this floor of the building has been great. With relentless good nature and patience she has been working to uncover the culprit.
On Sunday, I bought a huge number of gorgeous potted flowers that I left on the deck by the office. On Sunday night most of them froze with that unexpected frost. I took them inside and tried to resuscitate them. It turns out it’s not possible to do CPR with geraniums, but some of the pink did come back with the few blossoms I managed to save.
A veteran who has been working hard on his recovery was in the building yesterday. He was the epitome of optimism, noting that all those lovely plants inside helped hide the unwelcomed smell.Ā There you go, a silver lining to every cloud.
I suppose PTSD and operational injuries are like that. The symptoms serve as reminders that there is something that needs to be addressed. It generally isnāt something we are eager to do, but the unwelcomed symptoms wonāt go away until we dig down and find the source of the problem.
So Iām taking action, enlisting the support of professionals who are experts in their areas, confident that we will figure it out, together. Hoping warm weather and pleasing scents find their way back to us soon.
p.s. The day after I wrote this article I arrived at the office and magically the offensive smell was goneā¦ a week after its mysterious appearance. Maybe talking about things does help after all.
Anyone who knows me well also knows that I love a challenge.
This may be, in part, why I so much enjoy the show Naked and Afraid. Itās not that I have the desire to be dropped in the middle of some foreign wasteland with a complete stranger and no clothing. Quite the contrary in fact.
Itās the survival aspect of the show that intrigues me. The more episodes I watch, the more I realize that the outcome of the 21 day challenge is largely determined within the first 48 hours. Drinking enough water, protecting oneself from the elements, and protecting oneself from predators (which by the way does tend to be primarily blood-sucking insects rather than large mammals) are all very important. Equally important though is the participantsā ability to work together. Participants who work well together do much better than those who donāt. We survive better in tribes than we do solo, particularly in times of hardship.
Thatās one of the big reasons why I believe in a group approach to recovery. Sure itās hard to form the initial trust, but once we have it, the strength of the team far surpasses that of the individual. Itās a concept Iām totally sold on, because I have seen it work. I hope you will come be a part of our tribe.
Itās complicatedā¦ a standard line delivered in movies when someone is trying to gently tell someone else why they donāt want to date them.
Dating someone with PTSD for sure isnāt easy. Being married to, or a partner with, someone with PTSD also isnāt easy. Wanting to be able to connect but not knowing how, and feeling the burden of shame that prevents intimacy, can be a difficult road. It isn’t simple loving your family or being connected to your friends when you have PTSD. It can be hard not understanding what is happening when it all used to be so effortless.
Is that complex PTSD? It may seem so, but in fact complex PTSD is what happens when we are exposed to childhood trauma and then again more trauma later in life. We may have figured out how to manage the childhood piece, but under the burden of adult trauma exposure, the face of childhood trauma may rear its ugly head. The adult trauma exposure may not by itself have been enough to undo us, but compounded with the early life experiences, the combined weight might be too much.
As I mentioned earlier, it is indeed complicated. Trauma exposure is not something that happens in discrete units. Itās a cumulative thing.
In order to figure things out, we often need to go upstream, back in time. View ourselves as a whole person, in the totality of our experience. This, by necessity, is a voyage of compassionate enquiry.Ā Something not meant to be done alone.
Any outdoor enthusiasts out there know these journeys are not for the faint of heart, and certainly not meant to be done alone. Please join us on this journey.
For fifteen dollars on the clearance table at Chapters I find enlightenment. Or so Iām promised. Throwing caution to the wind, I make the purchase. 365 Meditations: A Spiritual Journey on the Path of Wisdom. I flip it open and glance through glossy pages and colourful Zen images. A particular quote catches my eye:
“A falling tree makes more noise than a growing forest.” ~Ā Lao Tzu
I think about the program we are creating and the community that will be needed to support it. The extent of the problem is well known: thousands of military members, veterans, and first responders injured in the line of duty without sufficient supports in place to adequately facilitate their recovery.Ā I hear the sound of them falling.
At the same time, I see a forest growing silently and steadily around me.Ā It takes many forms:
A steadily growing group of talented and passionate clinicians, expert in trauma recovery;
A community rallying in support;
A breathtaking center that is almost fully renovated;
An ever expanding list of potential participants, tentatively stepping forward, daring to be the firstĀ in the program; and perhaps most significantly,
Over the past few daysā¦ signs ofĀ interest from potential funders, willing to join us to help make this all happen.
Weāre not there yet.Ā But Iām hopeful.
There is indeed a forest growing around me. Caught up in the details of the work that needs to be done, it would be easy to miss. I glance back at my bargain Zen book and make a mental note to take a moment to appreciate the wonder of it all.
Iām not going to kid you, trauma recovery is painstaking, hard work. Thereās no way to sugar coat it.
I remember when I was young (I refuse to tell you exactly how many years ago that was) most of the āolder generationā used to take cod liver oil daily. Nasty stuff, I certainly was not about to have it.Ā Bitter tasting and vile, I turned up my nose.
They also regularly ate Jello for dessert. Jello salads at dinner parties filled with cabbage or carrots (vegetables in disguise), pineapple-marshmallow filled Jello for dessert. Wobbly brightly coloured stuff camouflaged in decorative forms in an effort to increase appeal.
Wow, Iād shake my head thinking how strange that was, and how lucky we are to have invented so many tastier and smarter ways of doing things.
Instead, I pay exorbitant amounts of money for bottles of Omega Oil and Hydrolyzed Collagen Protein
ā¦historically known as cod liver oil and Jello.
Turns out they were right. A small daily dose of a bitter tasting substance can lead to a whole heck of a lot of prevention. Not doing that comes at a cost.
Trauma recovery is like that. Small doses of regular exposure to our deepest feared emotions can prevent blockage and backlog. The same blockage that leads to overload (PTSD symptoms).
So if you are doing the work, and wondering why it is taking so long, or why in Heavenās name you would regularly do something that is so unpleasant, just think of the wisdom of our grandparents.
Hang in there, with patience, you will start to feel better, even though the process may not be enjoyable.
