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Tag: trauma

  • Unlocking the Healing Power of Embracing Human Complexity: A Therapeutic Journey to Growth and Wellness

    Subtle Shifts Toward Inner Harmony and Resilience

    If you subscribe to Medium please read it there John Walter 📣 Published in Age of Empathy

    Image created digitally by the author.

    The medical establishment tries to reduce us to simple diagnosable packages. This may work to a degree when applied to medical issues, but it is an absolute disaster when applied to mental health issues.

    You are given a mental health diagnosis, and along with it comes a whole load of baggage. You are no longer seen as a unique individual. You have become part of a group, and that whole group of millions of people has a whole raft of prejudices and expectations associated with it. There is a catalogue of therapeutic and medication approaches that are seen as possibly making a bit of a difference.

    You become a guinea pig to the medical side of the mental health care establishment.

    “I tried this once, and it worked a bit. Let’s see if it works for you.”
    You are no longer being treated as a unique individual. You are part of an ongoing research project. A therapy is tried with not much hope of success, and if it fails, you are moved on to another one.

    The last century has seen many advances in mental health treatments and therapies, but at the same time, thousands have received misguided treatments that have caused major harm.

    Forced lobotomies have caused serious brain damage. ECT without consent has caused memory loss and cognitive impairment. Conversion therapy for sexuality or gender identity issues has caused significant harm including psychological distress and trauma. (The UK government are still refusing to ban this practice despite all the evidence of significant harm). There has been institutional misuse of psychiatric medications, forced sterilization, human rights violations, stigmatization and discrimination.

    All of these things have been allowed to happen because there is a diagnosis. Without a diagnosis, you could not justify cutting a bit of someone’s brain out or electrocuting someone to within an inch of their life. All of these invasive approaches to mental health treatment would be seen as criminal acts against the person. The diagnosis turns something akin to criminal assault into a legal or justifiable act.

    I haven’t even touched on the government-sanctioned abuse towards autistic people, and I’ll leave you to do your own research in that area.

    Embracing Human Complexity

    I work as a Psychotherapeutic Counsellor in the UK, where no regulation exists around these terms. I am qualified as an Integrative Counsellor but have a background in Psychodynamic therapy and working around attachment issues. I am so much more than any of these official descriptors.

    I have been on a therapeutic journey for close to 40 years. Sometimes, this has been primarily cognitive, other times largely somatic (of the body). Often, it has been focused on emotional or spiritual work with a creative focus.

    If someone had convinced me at any stage of my journey that I could get all I needed from a singular approach, then I would not be in the position I am in today.

    There are dangers inherent in all of the singular approaches. If you major in cognitive or behavioural approaches, you can neglect your somatic, spiritual or emotional self. This creates an imbalance in itself, which can destabilise your sense of well-being.

    Those who focus on their spiritual life can create a spiritual bypass where they avoid facing emotional issues, psychological wounds or other essential parts of their self-development.

    The holistic approach to therapy recognises this need for balance and a consideration of the unique complexity of every individual human being. Only by considering the whole person can any sense be made of the beautiful interactions between all the many parts of yourself.

    My Journey

    Image created digitally by the author.

    My life since my mid-20s has been a 40-year-long therapeutic journey. It has been a meandering path and I am realising now that there is no direct route. I have often sought or been drawn in by someone offering some magic formula to enlightenment, only to realise that seeking a preconceived goal means I have taken my attention away from all the gloriousness of the journey.

    Self-help books offer instant transformation, you can sign up for cult-like training courses, gurus offer life-changing results, and practitioners offer to solve all your problems in 6 sessions, but the reality is that lasting change requires patience, self-reflection and a willingness to embrace life itself in all its random and unpredictable glory.

    In my personal therapy now I can be taken back to moments of change and discovery at any point along the 40-year timeline.

    Ancestral Trauma

    Considering the impact of ancestral trauma recently, I was transported back to a sweat lodge in the 80s on a Welsh hillside. I could feel the heat and the tingling sensations in my body, the difficulty catching my breath and the smells of hot stones, sage and cedar smoke. Part of the sweat lodge ceremony is to call on your ancestors to accompany you and give guidance, in a way connecting you with the spiritual realm.

    The lodge itself, a small dome of animal skins with a pile of hot stones in the centre, symbolises the womb of Mother Earth. Leaving the lodge can be seen as a rebirth, healing the trauma we all experience when we are born, of leaving the safe protective, nurturing containment of the womb and having to undergo the metamorphosis from foetus to newborn child.

    At the time of being involved in this shamanic ritual, I did not have any real understanding of the effect it was having on my personal growth process. It was powerful, and I felt a connection to the other participants and the land where it took place. I was however unaware that the seeds of transformation had been planted and would remain in my unconscious, influencing my thoughts and behaviours for years to come.

    Forty years later I am considering on a cognitive level how my relationship with my father was affected by the fact he was sent to fight in WW2 at the age of 18. How his father led men on horseback involved in the fall of Jerusalem in 1917. I relive the sensations of that sweatlodge, a powerful memory held in my body and it feels like a cycle has been completed and I can move on. It feels as if I have been carrying anger and pain for my father and his father before him and I no longer have to do that.

    Powerful metaphors

    Image created digitally by the author

    At the end of my work at a psychodynamic therapeutic community around 1990 I was asked to write a reflection on my time there. The expectation was some short, maybe rational, academic essay on my own process in relation to the work of the community.

    I wrote a short children’s story about a beast living trapped in a stone hut. The beast was befriended by a small child, who fed him and eventually helped him escape by enlarging the doorway.

    Being part of the psychoanalytic community, interpretations about id and ego and god knows what were flying around everywhere. I wasn’t too interested in these. For me, the important part was the creative process. I focused my thoughts on my time in the community, and a metaphor emerged. I remember that metaphor now, over 30 years later.

    Metaphors are useful because you remember the powerful imagery. Interpretations and meanings change over time. Extra layers can be noticed many years later.

    The use of metaphor is all about embracing human complexity. I could not begin to write about my time in the community in literal, concrete terms within a psychoanalytic framework. The language was simply not there to express my experience clearly. The language itself creates a narrow view of human experience.

    Human Complexity

    How would you draw yourself as a human being reflecting all parts of yourself? Would you be perfectly balanced or would your brain be larger than your body reflecting overthinking? Would your heart be so big you could hardly move or perhaps your body has taken control away from your heart and mind? Maybe spiritual parts have taken hold and you are forgetting to eat and keep yourself healthy.

    How has your image of yourself changed over time? Have you become more reflective, or more self-obsessed? Have you been journeying in a straight line or going around in circles or stuck in a rut? Notice how your social or cultural condition affects your relationship to that phrase. Is being still and calm necessarily a bad thing? Is travelling forward in a straight line necessarily a good thing?

    Do you judge yourself as you create these complex images or can you accept yourself exactly as you are? Are you like the monster in the drawing above who has grown so big they can no longer escape from the shelter which was once their protection but has become their prison?

    Accepting all parts of yourself is a way to develop harmony and resilience. Self-awareness is just that, an awareness of self. Personal growth is just that, growth around all parts of yourself, not the growth of one part of you to the exclusion of all others.

    And Finally:

    Healing comes from accepting all parts of yourself, and your history and developing self-awareness without judgment. Resilience is knowing there is nothing wrong. You are who you are today as a result of multiple influences from your ancestors, immediate family, society and culture.

    Trying to work out what is wrong with you so that you can fix it is a massive distraction. Life is complex and you are here to live it.

    John Walter Counsellor

  • Therapy Designed for Long-Term Impactful Change.

    Figure 1A person covered in band-aids and plasters. Image created digitally by the author.

    A common thread with all my clients is that they are looking for long term impactful change. They don’t want to be patched up and sent on their way only to fall back into old habits a month or so down the line. Many have had counselling or psychotherapy before with mixed results – some found it partially effective, while others felt it was a waste of time.

    Imagine Diana, a fictional character who suffered traumatic abuse as a child. She had been given counselling and referred to various specialist agencies over a twenty-year period but none of this had stopped her mental health deteriorating and her relationships ending in disaster. She finally sought a more enduring solution with a therapist who would not just focus on the trauma she had suffered but help her consider all the ups and downs of her life, rediscover her sense of self and create a hopeful future.

    So how do you find a therapist who will work with you effectively to bring about long-term change? There is a lot of confusion over the titles and distinctions within mental health services. Long term Therapy is quite often referred to as psychotherapy. The terms ‘Psychotherapist’ and ‘Counsellor’ are not legally defined in the UK. You could find a Psychotherapist who specialises in short term therapy or a Counsellor skilled in long term approaches amongst a whole rainbow of variations on this theme.

    Figure 2A row of therapists setting out their stalls. Image created digitally by the author.

    The qualification or the title is not the important factor. More important is that the therapist is working holistically with you, addressing the cognitive aspects but looking beyond that. Helping you to see how you have developed as a complex human. Helping you to achieve harmonic balance between the mental, physical, emotional and spiritual parts of yourself.

    For financial reasons, a lot of the therapy provided by the NHS and insurance companies is limited and short-term provision, so it may be that to get what you need you will have to look to the private sector.  There are also some specialised charities which offer low-cost provision.

    Over a forty-year period, I have worked with a host of different therapists, I’ve worked with shamans and spiritualists, somatic therapists and business coaches, a psychoanalyst and a past life therapist. I’ve done breathwork and rebirthing, CBT and hypnotherapy and gone on rites of passage adventures. I’ve chanted to a host of deities, taken part in trance drumming and dance, and become part of communities verging on the cult-like.

    Figure 3A drummer in a drumcircle. Image created digitally by the author.

    All these experiences gave me a little nudge in some direction or other but there are three experiences that stand out in bringing about permanent change:

    1. In 1985, I visited a humanistic therapist weekly for a period of two years. This launched me into a process of living a life I loved.
    2. I became a volunteer counsellor with a local Hospice and became part of the most extraordinary supervision group I have ever experienced.
    3. I began working with my current personal counsellor in May 2021 and have seen her fortnightly for around 60 sessions.

    These three experiences were and are effective because I felt seen and accepted by the others involved, and in that process, I have been able to see and accept myself. I have been able to remove the quick-fix band-aids applied to myself over the years and tend to the wounds they were covering up. I have come to know parts of myself that were hidden from view. I now have a sense of my authentic self, which is aware of those other parts but not driven by them.

    If you are looking for someone to work with you in this way, you might look out for the words holistic, humanistic, integrative, pluralistic and eclectic. Once you have identified a therapist who might fit the bill, ask questions about how they would work with you. If you get the feeling they have a pet therapeutic approach or formula, they will try to fit you into, then move on. If they suggest they will follow your lead and work with you to find a suitable approach, then you are probably in the right place.

    I wish you all the best on your journey.

  • Unlocking Healing: The Power of Long-Term Talk Therapy in Complex Trauma Recovery

    Looking beyond quick fixes and instant remedies.

    Image created digitally by the Author

    If you are a subscriber to Medium please read this on My Medium Page as I get thrown a few peanuts that way. John Walter 📣 First Published in Invisible Illness 06/11/2023

    Complex trauma is a condition many of us suffer from. By definition, it is not the result of a single event. It often begins subtly in childhood as the result of some form of abuse, neglect, stress or simply the lack of sufficient care. As children, we are programmed to find a way of surviving in less-than-ideal circumstances.

    This may be compounded later in life through traumatic issues arising in relationships or a singular traumatic event.

    We develop coping strategies, and our human resilience finds a way of adapting to the environment within which we find ourselves. Our authentic self gives us the power and drive to move towards an uncertain future. At the same time, we adapt to our emotional and social environment on a mental, physical, emotional and spiritual level.

    I asked ChatGPT for some help getting clarity in writing this section, and I quoted the answer in full because I couldn’t put it better.

    This intricate dance between our inner self and the world around us allows us to survive and thrive in the face of life’s challenges. We learn to harness the power of our emotions, channelling them into motivation and creativity. Our mental faculties enable us to analyze, learn, and grow from our experiences, while our physical strength and endurance help us overcome physical obstacles. Emotionally, we build connections, empathy, and resilience, forming deep bonds with others. Spiritually, we seek meaning and purpose, connecting with something greater than ourselves. As we continue this journey of self-discovery and adaptation, we find that our authentic self is not a fixed point but a constantly evolving entity, capable of embracing change and uncertainty with courage and grace.

    [Note Chat GPT combines multiple online sources to construct an answer to a specific question]

    Complex trauma can affect us emotionally, mentally, physically or spiritually. Usually, it is a combination of some or all of these.

    Shutting down parts of ourselves

    I very quickly learnt that physical affection or comfort from cuddles and hugs was not something I would get an abundance of. In a large family of mainly boys, I was more likely to gain physical contact through play-fighting or being “boxed around the ears” by a parent. My mother would sit me in her lap to squeeze spots, clean out ears, or lance boils. Job done. I would be off the lap, making way for the next person in line.

    My father was a handshake-only sort of person. I remember initiating my first hug with him when I was 46.

    At age 68, I have come to terms with the impact of this deprivation of close physical contact as a child. My maladaptive self has made it a lifelong struggle. My sexual relationships have been impacted. Gaining physical comfort from another human being was a fight, a struggle or part of a competition. Some comments from my family even led me to believe my need for physical comfort was something shameful and disgusting.

    I can only empathise with my first wife, who left after four years of dealing with my constant neediness and confusion in this area.

    This is one of many parts of myself that I shut down or created a maladaptive strategy around.

    Which parts of yourself have you shut down?

    Here is a possible list of maladaptive behaviours which can result from childhood trauma.

    1. Avoidance: You avoid specific stressors or situations rather than facing them head-on.
    2. Substance Abuse: Using drugs or alcohol to desensitise yourself or escape from complicated feelings. (eating disorders can be included here)
    3. Self-Harm: Inflicting pain on yourself seemingly gives temporary relief from unresolved, overwhelming feelings.
    4. Dissociation: You disconnect from your thoughts and feelings when in stressful situations. You become an observer of yourself.
    5. Rumination: Overthinking or excessive worrying, which can get in the way of taking appropriate action to solve a problematic situation.
    6. Passive Aggression: When you feel anger or frustration but feel you have to hide it. Later, the feelings may burst out inappropriately.
    7. Excessive Social Withdrawal: Isolating yourself even when you need support and connection with others.
    8. Projection: Blaming others for the difficulties you are having rather than taking responsibility for them yourself.
    9. Perfectionism: You set unrealistic standards for yourself and experience disappointment in not achieving them.
    10. Escapism: Getting lost in computer games, binge-watching TV or Sex addiction as a way of avoiding facing the challenges of life.

    The Maladaptive Self and the Authentic Self

    The maladaptive self is like a series of layers you have created as protection to survive the rigours of life. The trouble is it was constructed in an environment which was not representative of the whole world. You constructed it to survive the particular circumstances of your family life.

    As you move into independent adult living, those survival strategies may no longer be relevant or workable.

    Many people find themselves unconsciously drawn to environments similar to their family environment. Their maladaptive self is in control. The most obvious example of this is people with abusive or controlling parents finding themselves with abusive and controlling partners.

    The maladaptive self is very comfortable in this environment, no matter how uncomfortable the adult or authentic self may find it.

    Recognising and becoming aware of your maladaptive strategies is the way of creating a life which you choose rather than a life rooted in past circumstances.

    Quick fix strategies, the purpose and the dangers.

    You could look at the list of maladaptive behaviours above, choose one and then find a therapist who deals specifically with that behaviour. You could work through the list with a different therapist for each.

    The purpose of some quick-fix therapies is simply that. Identify an issue and create new coping strategies that are more appropriate to an adult life.

    In some ways, this is more of the same. Rather than looking at the root cause, you are dealing with a symptom, and the danger is that you are simply layering new behaviours on top of the maladaptive behaviours.

    Some clients become overwhelmed. Rather than living an authentic, harmonious life, they are constantly spinning plates. In every situation they encounter, they have to recognise and put on hold their previous maladaptive behaviour and initiate this new behaviour, which they are not yet entirely comfortable with.

    The piecemeal approach to personal growth and self-awareness is deeply ingrained. It comes from the medical model of mental health.
    I can’t sleep — take a sleeping pill.
    I am anxious — learn breathing techniques.
    I am depressed — take antidepressants.
    We are so used to working with the symptoms of our distress that no one even thinks to help us work with the cause. Sticking plasters layered on top of band-aids.

    This approach is exhausting and unsustainable. In some cases, I see it as further embedding the trauma rather than relieving or releasing it in any way.

    The Holistic Long-term therapy approach.

    Many clients come to me, and their first words are
    “I tried — — — — therapy for six weeks, and it was a waste of time.”

    After six or so sessions of working with their issues holistically, considering cognitive, emotional, somatic and spiritual aspects affecting them, they almost always feel it is a good use of time and commit to the long haul.

    The work is more than single-goal focused. There are often steps backwards as well as forwards and quite a lot of going around in circles. Part of the healing is accepting that the process can be non-linear. It is more about developing an overview than following a path.

    One client, a military gentleman not often resorting to metaphor, explained:

    When I arrived, I was like a spider, only aware of one tiny part of the web I was on. I felt the web vibrate and shake, and I was terrified of what was happening. I could not see what was happening. I felt all of it, and it was all unknown.

    Image created by the author

    [20 sessions later] Now it’s like I have a bird’s eye view of the web. I feel a vibration, and I can see it is just a leaf brushing past with the wind. Everything I feel now has some context, and it no longer terrifies me.

    Self-awareness is a state of being not a project to take on.

    Some clients take on self-awareness like they would a work-based project. There are goals and to-do lists, deadlines missed, and spreadsheets created.

    I have no judgment about this, but I do expect that, over time, this will get forgotten. Life is not a project. Life is to be lived.

    Having experienced trauma as a child, overthinking becomes a habit.
    “I will be safer if I behave like this”
    Every part of one’s day becomes a strategic event. The ability to be, to simply exist freely as a child should, is lost. Every step must be calculated tested and measured.

    Long-term therapy can turn back the clock. A place can be experienced where it is safe to simply be. Where you can experience the moment without fear of reprisals. Where your imagination can run riot. Where any feeling can be expressed without judgment criticism or shame.

    When you experience the freedom to simply be yourself in therapy you have made a connection with your inner child and the uncovering of the authentic self has begun.

  • You Don’t Know What Love Is

    Until you’ve learnt the meaning of the blues

    Love loss and grief, melancholic man leaning on piano
    Love, loss and grief. Photo by Anastasia Kolchina from Pexels

    Trigger Warning: this article contains a discussion of love, loss, grief and suicide that may not be suitable for all readers. AoE community, please read with care.

    My headline is the title of a song recorded by Chet Baker and Nina Simone. This is the story of how it became interwoven with my life.

    The first time I sang this song to an audience was in a small local pub the night before my youngest daughter Holly took her own life. It was also the first time I had been aware of tears rolling down my cheeks whilst performing.

    Step back a few hours, and I was on a park bench watching the tidal river ebb away in front of me. I was phoning my daughter. I wonder if I was aware of her life ebbing away like the river. She didn’t pick up. I didn’t expect her to, and it’s difficult to admit there was some relief. I don’t know what I would have said.

    Her mother was speaking to her every day. This routine began two weeks earlier when Holly was signed off work with anxiety and stress. Had Holly’s deep sadness influenced me to choose this song to sing on this night? Or was it my sadness at my sense I was losing her love, and I could no more stop that than I could stop the river in front of me from flowing back to the sea?

    I left a voice message telling her I was about to set up for a gig and could talk to her afterwards if she wanted. She texted after midnight. A simple
    “Love you, Daddy.”

    She had already decided to end her life. Her husband had been making sure one of her friends was checking in on her every day, and she had invented an arrangement to meet someone for lunch the next day. She reminded him of this bogus meetup when he left for work and said she would have her phone off.

    Until you’ve loved a love you had to lose
    You don’t know what love is

    Song Lyrics

    As far as we know, she went to the pharmacy that morning to get what she needed along with a bag of chocolates to take away the taste. An image seared into my mind is how I walked into her flat the following day and dipped my hand into that bag of chocolates. Nothing tasted the same. The lips that taste of tears lose their taste for anything else.

    And how the lips that taste of tears
    Lose the taste for kissing

    Song Lyrics

    For the last 44 months, I have been learning the meaning of the blues. That yearning and despair will never go away. The pain that blues musicians have expressed for over 150 years. The pain of racial or personal oppression and hardship or losing your loved ones. It never goes away.

    You don’t know how hearts burn
    For love that cannot live, yet never dies

    Song Lyrics

    Holly could not live, but her love will never die. I sit here today on her birthday, unable to do anything other than think of her. Forget all notions of ‘getting over it,’ ‘moving on,’ ‘having closure’. Blues music has been around for over 150 years, and if I could live that long, I would still carry those complicated feelings of love and loss with me.

    Looking at the history of Blues Music, I see a different perspective. It did not begin in slavery. The descendants of enslaved people created it. It expresses the continued oppression of African Americans but also celebrates their freedom. The Blues is a genre expressing sadness, but at the same time, it celebrates the joy of freedom.

    Now I know what love is. It is being able to experience joy and pain concurrently. Sometimes, I found it difficult to feel anything before Holly died. By losing her physically, I have gained the ability to feel love and sadness simultaneously and find I am feeling so much more.

    Find the lyrics of the song here

    Contribute to The Compassionate Friends here. Help support bereaved parents and their families.

    My instrumental piano version of the tune in my freeish modern jazz style.

    Losing a Child to Suicide

  • Father’s Day Is A Nightmare

    But brings back precious memories

    John Walter 📣

    Jun 23 · 4 min read

    Photograph of John Walter, author of the article and his daughter, Holly.
    Holly and me – by author

    I have two daughters. Holly lived life on full throttle for 28 years and then stopped. Two years after this photograph on a hot summer morning, she sent her last text to me, “Love you, daddy”, and took her own life. Like everything she did, Holly thoroughly researched and planned this final act, and it was sure to be successful.

    She won’t send me a card, text, or Whatsapp message for my third Father’s Day. So I sit here sifting through memories and wondering what it means to be a dad, father, daddy.

    She trained me well. I had strict instructions to prepare my wedding speech and write notes. She didn’t want any of that improvised waffly nonsense I was famous for. It worked, and I delivered a humdinger. I was the father of the day.

    Now I am a bereaved father, and no one has written a manual for that, and I haven’t got Holly to tell me how to do it. So I can’t ring her up and ask her to talk me through the steps like she did when she organised that cheap phone for me through her insurance.

    An anecdote in the wedding speech recalled a time when four girls were in the bath. Holly was the youngest, but her strength of personality was such that the three other girls started chanting and splashing the water.
    “Holly is the boss! Holly is the boss!”

    At times of indecision, all of us still have the thought, “What would Holly do?

    I have lost my centre. I have lost the guidebook. I am a tourist that does not want to be on holiday. Not here. Not now.

    Father’s Day arrived with a card from my eldest daughter and was soon followed by a phone call. But it all feels messy. How can I love one daughter without the other? So I spend the day with sadness dragging around my feet and love and joy carrying me forward in a lurching fashion.

    I walk to the cliffs and watch the local youth surfing some beautiful waves. I want to be out there with them, but I know my balance and bones won’t allow that. So I sit in the Cornish mizzle, a spectator on life.

    Holly’s death has been a catalyst that has transformed my life. The week after she died, I signed up for a Counselling course. Tomorrow I hand in my last bit of written work. Yesterday I attended an induction course for a new job I will soon begin as a counsellor for young people.

    Before Holly died, I was directionless, downsized, living in a beautiful place, a retired teacher who never wanted to teach again.

    The trauma of Holly taking her own life was like a lightning strike that energised me and reconnected me with my passion.

    I am a father. Of course, I doubt whether I did a good enough job.

    I have days of obsessing around the details of a conversation. Would it have made a difference if I had said …? Could I have changed the course of her life?

    That question feels rich when it is so tricky to affect any change to the course of my own life. How could I possibly manufacture a perfect upbringing for my children? My own childhood was pretty idyllic and privileged, but something was missing, meaning I have never felt fulfilled or entirely content.

    If it has taken me over 50 years and many hours of therapy to get to that realisation and still not pin it down exactly to specific causes, what hope was there of single-handedly creating the perfect environment for my children?

    I have learnt a powerful lesson from my counselling training about being congruent. This is one of the core conditions of Person-centred counselling. As a teacher, I was not congruent. My authentic self sat on the sidelines while I trundled out government-approved garbage.

    As a counsellor, I can be congruent. I can be my authentic self. I can notice how I am thinking and feeling when I am with a client. Then, rather than deflecting or dismissing those thoughts and feelings, I can make decisions in the moment on whether it is helpful to share them.

    I wish I had developed that skill while Holly was still alive. I have so many memories of conversations with her that started well and then seemed to hit a brick wall. So often with a cheery smile and “I’m fine.” Maybe my counselling skills could have created a chink in that wall that we could have worked on over the years.

    I am under no illusions, though. Just because someone is labelled father doesn’t mean they necessarily have any control or rights over their progeny. Congruent or not, every child is an independent living being with their own path to follow.

    Father’s day passes, and I know I love being a father, whatever form it takes. But, I also know there is more to it than those traditional roles of breadwinner and protector. Sometimes I was so focused on breadwinning that I failed to protect. Sometimes everything was out of kilter, but I was there. I stayed present.

    Holly — I wouldn’t have missed your wedding for the world. I still treasure the 60th birthday lunch you organised at Ronnie Scotts. I even treasure memories of you moaning all the way on a walk around the Lizard. I love the videos of you singing with your choir and the memories of family harmonies in the car.

    I wish I could have spoken to you on Father’s day but hey! Thank you for all those beautiful memories over 28 years.

  • 5 Lessons From a Trauma Survivor

    Your biggest enemy will be your desire to reinstate normal life.

    John Walter 🌍Mar 30 · 8 min read First published in Invisible Illness on Medium

    Photo by NRKbeta on Unsplash

    To varying degrees, as a result of Covid-19, everyone on the planet is joining this previously elite club.

    Trauma survivors.

    Apart from the physical, economic, cultural and social damage, there will be an enormous impact on the mental health of everyone from survivors and the medical professionals to those who found their livelihood evaporate overnight.

    Those in abusive relationships will have the trauma complicated by the undesirable imprisonment with their abuser.

    Children sold the story that steady progression through the education system is the only way to achieve a meaningful life will find themselves swimming in currents that no one had warned them about and for which they are ill-prepared.

    Grief will become commonplace.

    There will be a massive spike in those exhibiting the symptoms of PTSD

    The main symptoms of PTSD are:

    Re-living the traumatic event through distressing, unwanted memories, vivid nightmares and/or flashbacks. This can also include feeling very upset or having intense physical reactions such as heart palpitations or being unable to breathe when reminded of the traumatic event.

    Avoiding reminders of the traumatic event, including activities, places, people, thoughts or feelings that bring back memories of the trauma.

    Negative thoughts and feelings such as fear, anger, guilt, or feeling flat or numb a lot of the time. A person might blame themselves or others for what happened during or after the traumatic event, feel cut-off from friends and family, or lose interest in day-to-day activities.

    Feeling wound-up. This might mean having trouble sleeping or concentrating, feeling angry or irritable, taking risks, being easily startled, and/or being constantly on the lookout for danger.

    It is not unusual for people with PTSD to experience other mental health problems as well, like depression or anxiety. Some people may develop a habit of using alcohol or drugs as a way of coping.

    [Pheonix Australia]

    Lesson 1. Nothing will ever be the same again.

    I have had two major traumas in the past five years.

    A brain tumour administered the first. It knocked out all of the hearing in one ear overnight, caused me to lose my balance necessitating walking with a stick and gave me several months of facial pain, anxiety and depression.

    After four weeks of sick leave, I tried to go back to my job as a music teacher.

    I wish someone had told me that nothing would ever be the same again. I wasted enormous amounts of energy, trying to get my life back to normal. I went to countless meetings, we agreed a phased return to work and carried out an assessment of fitness for work all because I wanted life to be normal again.

    The moment I walked back into that school, I intuitively knew that I was no longer capable or interested in being a teacher. Walking into a crowded classroom was a terrifying experience. I could no longer tell the direction in which sound was coming. I had no depth of sound field, so the voice of the child in front of me was drowned out by all the other voices in the room. In a music classroom, I was overwhelmed with a cacophony and unable to use my hearing to focus on one sound to the exclusion of others.

    My mind drove me on. “You should be able to do this! You have to earn a living. There are plenty of deaf teachers. You are only deaf in one ear.”

    After two trial lessons, I gave up. Thanks to a wonderful boss, I was given a part-time job in a quiet office with no further contact with children.

    The lesson is – look at what you want to be doing with your life anew. If you have lost your job, are you going to bust a gut to get back into the same line of work or could you step into something more challenging or fulfilling or more suited to your current situation?

    If your relationship came under strain during this period, are you going to soldier on with it or use this opportunity to move to something new?

    If your business collapsed will you automatically look for support to rebuild it or will you step sideways into something more relevant to the times?

    Acknowledge the grief.

    When I look back at those weeks struggling with the loss of my hearing and my livelihood, I can now see it as circumstances allowing me to make changes in my life that were well overdue.

    Can you grasp the awful circumstances of a pandemic and see a personal opportunity for growth opening up?

    Lesson 2. You will find yourself responding to events in a way that seems out of your control

    My Second Trauma was in July 2018 when my beautiful, extraordinary daughter Holly took her own life. It was entirely out of the blue, she seemed to have everything she needed in life, but in a shockingly short period, her mental health deteriorated and became fatal.

    Holly

    In a short article, I can’t possibly express all the feelings that I have been wading around in since that time. What I do know is that my body can suddenly start shaking for no apparent reason. My mind will sometimes become triggered, and I can no longer hear a word anyone is saying. I have had cramps in both legs and disconcerting dizzy spells.

    I accept them now as a result of trauma. I don’t try to medicate or expect them to go away. I accept I have suffered trauma, and I will always have reactions to some events, and I will not always know why.

    https://www.newscientist.com/article/mg22429941-200-the-lifelong-cost-of-burying-our-traumatic-experiences/

    The lesson here is not to try burying your traumatic experience. After WW2 many in my parents’ generation tried to live their life without referring to the awful events in their youth. It is not a good idea. Your body will remember if your mind tries to block it out.

    Learn to listen to your body. It is telling you that there is unexpressed emotion stored up. There is nothing wrong with you. It is not something you need to fix.

    I am practising telling people when it is happening. Often I am feeling powerless in some way. Recently I was watching a political interview and simply had to switch it off and breathe as my body was shaking. I was powerless to prevent Holly from dying, and whenever I feel powerless, my body reacts.

    Lesson 3. You are a different person since your experience.

    Change has already happened. You may not recognise yourself, your reactions or your responses. Trying to resist this change is futile, painful and ultimately useless.

    After the death of my daughter, I desperately wanted to carry on as usual. It was not viable. Pretty quickly, I enrolled on a Counselling Diploma course. I felt I needed something purposeful to do and something that would connect me with Holly, who had a Masters in Psychology.

    The change in career has served me well. What has not helped me is trying to keep other activities going because they were part of my routine.

    I was in a band that I had been enjoying for a couple of years, and I was keen to keep it going. After a while, this became painful. I was no longer the same person, but I found it difficult to find expression for the new me. It all ended in tears.

    My lesson from this is that I have to accept that I have changed. I also have to allow that others will continue treating me as if I was the old me. I have to enlighten them.

    There is no shortcut to this. As a man trained to hide my feelings and keep a stiff upper lip, it was extraordinarily difficult. Over time it becomes easier. I have learnt to trust my feelings and express them as best I can. If I feel assumptions are being made based on how I used to be, I make it clear the assumptions are wrong and enter into dialogue.

    Take some time to assess what has changed in you. What can you create for your future in the light of that?

    Lesson 4. Purpose and meaning become much more relevant to you.

    The cumulation of my two traumatic events has pushed me to a new level of purposefulness. No longer will I accept doing a job just because it pays the bills. What sort of a waste of life is that?

    I focus on doing things that are meaningful and fulfilling, and at the moment, I trust that I will make a living at it in the long term.

    The fabric and structure of education, society and employment are now put on hold to support us through this awful crisis. Maybe now is the time to reassess. When you can rebuild your life, what will you be delighted to bring back? What would you prefer to leave out?

    Lesson 5. No one outside of yourself will ever give you what you need.

    The first reaction to any trauma is to blame. Who did that to me? How can I call them to account? How can I make them change their ways? How can I punish them?

    Blaming is pointing out there, rather than in here, into your own mind, when you find yourself in a painful or uncomfortable experience. Blame means shifting the responsibility for where you are onto someone or something else, rather than accepting responsibility for your role in the experience. Iyanla Vanzant

    With this pandemic, it is going to be difficult to accept responsibility for our part in it. If you want to move forward and create a new life from the ashes of the old, you have to embrace this.

    My mind went into overdrive with blame when Holly died. I started by blaming myself and my wife, then her husband, the workplace she was employed at, the GP she visited. I soon realised this was all a futile attempt not to blame Holly for her actions.

    Ultimately I had to accept that what happened happened and I will never know why. I have no desire to waste vast amounts of energy trying to unearth the unknowable.

    When the dust has settled on Coronavirus will you leap straight back into all the things you were doing before? Or will you give yourself some breathing space? Will you recognise that you and your loved ones have suffered a massive trauma?

    You need time to heal and rebuild yourself and your lives in light of the different world in which we find ourselves.