Back to Me Excerpt: PTSD Chapter (Draft form)

By Kim B. Woodruff

PTSD:

Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD) affects all those who suffer from it differently. That being said, what is PTSD? I would define it as the physiological and emotional memory response of the body as a whole to a traumatic event. Basically, it is how the body remembers an experience. Some would want to categorize it as a purely physical response, but in my experience, it is so much more than that. It is emotional memory combined with the physical and psychological memory.

To completely simplify this idea, if you have never experienced a traumatic event, think of it like the lesson about a hot stove. Mom warns and warns her child about never coming near the hot stove, because he could be burned. So, when mom turns her back, what does he do? Touch the stove, of course! She turns at the same moment the child’s hand hits the heat, and mom shouts, drops the glass she has in her hand shattering it, and runs to the child. The child screams because his hand hurts, and he is frightened because of all the commotion that has ensued. What memories does he now have? Three in that one moment: physically, he remembers the pain of the burn, emotionally, he feels scared and upset, logically he learns not to touch a hot stove again, and maybe next time he will listen to mom (maybe).

When somebody experiences a PTSD episode, he/she is consumed by all pieces of the memory. The physical, emotional, and logical (or illogical, depending on your perspective) memories take absolute control of the person. In my experience, I would relive the memory of what occurred rather than see what was actually going on around me. It was like I was completely transported back to that worst moment, and my body would freeze. It didn’t matter if a small piece of my brain that kept telling me it wasn’t real, I was completely devoured by all aspects of the memory:

· auditory – from the gunshots, bombs going off, screaming, fire alarms, to a student choking on his own blood, and the screams in the library

· visual – the gunmen pulling out the guns and beginning to fire, the boys on the stairs falling as they were shot, my best friend slumping over as she was shot – and not moving, blood-soaked kids running from the library

· physical – the heat on my back, my heart racing, weariness from running, gasping for breath when I couldn’t stop my sobs when I finally found my twin in the field

· emotional – helplessness, fear, shock, heart-racing anxiety

In addition, as the PTSD episode ebbed, the survivor’s guilt questions and grief would take hold once more. A PTSD episode, for me, was not just seeing the memory again before my eyes – but living it. When the moment subsided, the only thing I could do was break down and cry. To lose complete and utter control at a moment’s notice was unbearable. It felt like my I was walking on eggshells throughout my life, not knowing when the next assault would occur.

But after a time I learned that, in my experience, a PTSD episode always has a trigger. From what I have been told, some who suffer from it do not always have triggers, or at least triggers that they are consciously aware of. One of the first things I had to learn after I was diagnosed with PTSD was to identify all of my triggers. Some of the triggers were completely obvious – loud noises, shouting, people in trench coats, sirens, fire alarms, being in crowds, fireworks, etc., but many others were not obvious at all. Some of those included: specific songs on the radio, where I would sit in relation to a door, certain weather changes, times of day, day of the week, time of year, certain passages in books, people popping their gum, sudden movements, etc. I made a list of my triggers (two hand written pages, in two columns), and worked on them one by one. I found that just before each PTSD episode my breath would become short, and I would start feeling anxious, my palms would sweat, seemingly without warning (before I knew what the triggers were). Learning my triggers and then learning to watch for the signs of an on-coming attack were large victories for me. I was defending myself against what I knew would come and the more I prepared, the less damage the episode could do.

One PTSD episode occurred when I was in a classroom up in Boulder. In a classroom with over 200 people and a single exit, I was already in near panic mode. I sat on edge, close to the door as usual, getting my materials out of my bag. A person in the desk behind me slammed down his books but to me, it was a gun shot. I ducked underneath the table, pulling my backpack over my head – then I saw everything again. People were still coming into the classroom – some stared at me, not understanding the horrors I saw before my eyes that I could not escape. I was locked in my moment of terror, and the “interactive” movie I was stuck watching wouldn’t release me until it wanted to. It took several minutes for me to reestablish where I was, and when I realized how many people were staring at me, I felt like a freak. Needless to say, I stuffed my books back into my bag as fast as I could and ran out, tears streaming down my face. It took a long time for me to calm down after that attack, several days in fact, but eventually it became easier.

For a different viewpoint analogy, it is like a newcomer to the coast, and a hurricane is coming. The first time, the newcomer just hopes for the best, without realizing he is right in the path of the storm, without insurance, and, of course, without even a survival kit. His new house’s windows and roof are torn off, and there is major flood damage as well. When he hears about another hurricane coming – he boards up the windows, fills the bath tub with fresh water, has his kit ready, and makes sure the insurance policy is in place. Will the storm come with all its fury and rage, doing all it can to destroy the house? Will there still be damage? Of course, few homes end up completely unscathed, but his will survive. Learning my triggers and the warning signs was like that for me – boarding up the windows and making sure I had my survival kit, knowing the storm was brewing inside me once more.

I learned from T’ai Chi that the best PTSD episode was one that did not occur. In T’ai Chi, one does not seek a conflict, but rather solve all conflict before it escalates. The best martial artist never fights, because he/she never has to – because the conflict has been solved before it comes to physical blows. According to the T’ai Chi classics, if a fight has to come to physical blows, then it is always considered a loss. It goes back to the idea of the move Deflect/ Intercept, Punch (discussed below). I needed to learn how to deflect, so I wouldn’t be consumed with yet another full PTSD attack. Such an attack left me feeling not only emotionally broken, but also physically drained and unable to even think about what was occurring in the actual world at that moment.

What helped me? Really, it was knowing and learning me. I am innately an auditory learner. If I heard something, it stuck with me. Therefore, my worst triggers were sounds. Ever since I was a little girl, sounds affected me more than what I saw. When most people watch a movie and become scared they cover their eyes so they can’t see what is happening… not me, I always covered my ears. I may not like what I see, but I wouldn’t forget something I hear. Which is exactly why I had to deflect mostly auditory triggers, not visual ones.

I no longer have full-blown PTSD episodes now. It is more just a feeling of slight anxiousness and sometimes hearing my memory – but I am completely conscious of my surroundings. The phantom sounds are a background noise to reality, egging on the anxiety. Some of the major triggers I have completely conquered include going to the store, being outside, spring days, single-exit rooms, trench coats, combat boots, large crowds, black bags, helicopters, sirens, fire drills, lockdown drills, most loud noises (there are a lot!), and being in school buildings. There are many minor triggers as well that I have been able to decimate, but it would be a very long list to discuss here.

I had to figure out what had the most impact on me and what didn’t. In the beginning, I focused on minor triggers and worked my way up because it is again that idea of victories and having more victories and confidence under my belt helped with more severe triggers. Balloons popping and gunshots are my only remaining triggers from my two-page list. But eventually, they won’t bother me at all. It will just take time, and more practice. Each time I experience a trigger, affects me less and each time makes me stronger for the next attempt.

Unexpectedly, I had to completely retrain my brain how to learn. Educators tend to believe, “once an auditory learner, always an auditory learner,” but I have to disagree with that. For example, if a painter goes blind – will he ever be able to create artwork again? If you think the brain can’t retrain, then your answer is – nope, he will never create anything again. But, if you think the brain can retrain – maybe he goes into textile arts, sculpture or working with music. If he is able to retrain, he can still work with his passion but in a new way. It is possible. Since most of my triggers were auditory based, I had to retrain my brain how to learn. For the logical side of my brain (the one with the continuous nagging survivor’s guilt), re-training was a way for it to think logically about a possible solution and to re-wire, accordingly. This was not an overnight task, do not expect results right away, but it is completely possible to help out the major triggers if you really understand how you learn and how you re-learn. I was lucky enough to know that my two greatest strengths were listening and writing, and now I am mostly a kinesthetic learner because of it. Do not feel like this is how you are wired and there is no changing that. At this point, I do not have a strong auditory memory, and I don’t usually remember things that are told to me one time, now I need repetition. At this point, I have to write everything down if I am expected to remember it.

PTSD lingers because it is rooted both in the long term memory and muscle memory. One never forgets how to ride a bike. The muscles that hold that memory. It is the same with PTSD; the body physically remembers an event. It takes time and practice to re-program the body to allow better memories and information in. Patience, and to continuing to chip away at the PTSD, and remembering to count the victories all help. Only by believing we are stronger than our memories and fighting for our present and future can we let the past stay in the past.