Life after Trauma

Staying grounded - using self-talk and affirmations to cope with estrangement

Just like moons and like suns,

With the certainty of tides,

Just like hopes springing high,

Still I'll rise.

Maya Angelou

 

Moon rise (photo: Timo Newton-Sym, flickr creative commons)

 

 This morning one of my daughters, the foster daughter we raised through her teens, phoned, crying. At first, I could barely make out what she was saying, she was crying so hard. But, as she calmed down, I understood what had happened. Her oldest sister had run into her while she was grocery shopping and began yelling at her about their brother who had killed himself two years ago. "You killed our brother!" her sister screamed. Our daughter (who I'll call M.) was embarrassed, angry, and very hurt. Sadly, this can be a common problem in the aftermath of a suicide: blaming other members of the family. I talked to M. for a long time, kindly, gently reminding her that her brother's death hadn't been her fault; that she was a good person; that I didn't understand why her sister was so hurtful. Eventually, she calmed down and then I told her I loved her and hung up.

Breathe (flickr creative commons)

After I hung the phone up, I was thinking about how I responded to M.'s distress. If only I could be that kind to myself. Well, sometimes I am. Yesterday wasn't one of those days, however. We leave for Michigan in a few days where I will either hear from my biological daughter or not; I will hear from her father or not. The thought of being excluded or, even worse, belittled for not being who they would like me to be, turns my stomach into knots. I dread the thought of being so close, and yet so far away from these two people who are so important in my life. Yesterday, I was quite morose about my powerlessness in the face of their silence. And then, today, after talking to M., I realized that I can talk kindly to myself. It doesn't always work, but when I am able to stay grounded and listen to myself, I feel strong.

I take a small book bound in Japanese paper with me everywhere I go. Inside, I've written poems and sayings that lift me up. "Still I Rise," by Maya Angelou is one of those poems. When I feel raw and hurt, I read the poem out loud to remind myself that I, too, have power. I have the power to choose how I feel about myself. I also have poems by Rumi, Wendell Berry, Naomi Shihab Nye, Mary Oliver and others in my little book. Each poem gives me strength, when I remember to pause and truly take in the words. Sometimes - like yesterday - I forget and lie on the bed and imagine hurtful scenarios in which my daughter tells me she never wants to speak to me again. Or I hear the hurtful words of my ex's last email echoing through my heart. And this is the hard truth: we cannot always please others. We can only stay true to ourselves.

I'm blessed with being in a choir and I've got many songs memorized. One of my favorites is "Storm Comin'" by the Wailin' Jennys. Our choir performed that song at our last concert and from time-to-time lines from the song pop into my head. Sometimes I start to sing the song. Sometimes, I just hear the lines and nod my head in agreement. Below are some lines from this powerful song.

 

Thunderstorm (photo: Harald Hoyer, flickr creative commons)

 

When that storm comes don't run for cover

When that storm comes don't run for cover

Don't run from the comin' storm cause there ain't no use in runnin'.

 

When that rain falls let it wash away

When that rain falls let it wash away

Let it wash away that fallin' rain the tears and the trouble.

(The Wailin' Jennys) 

 Finally, here is another song that I love. It never fails to lift my spirits.

 

 What do you do to help cope with estrangement? Do you have any affirmations, poems, or songs you'd like to share? I'd love to hear them.

How can [birth] first mothers cope when adoption reunions fall apart?

They say everything can be replaced

Yet every distance is not near

Bob Dylan

Lone tree (Bader Al Bassam, flickr creative commons)

 Today is my daughter's birthday. I lost her on this day 41 years ago and didn't see her again until she was 29 and then two years ago I lost her again. I realize that the circumstances weren't normal. After all, when are circumstances normal with adoption reunions? There's nothing normal about a baby being taken from its mother at birth and growing up in another family. This is a huge obstacle to overcome when the two - if the two - meet again. Adoption reunions often unfold in predictable stages:

1. Search

2. Reunion

3. Honeymoon  

4. Pull back (Time out)

4.  Re-reunion and/or

5. Estrangment

Here's a great article from [Birth Mother], First Mother Forum on the ups and downs of adoption reunion.Why do Adoption Reunions Go Awry?

 

Miss you, Arthur's Seat, Edinburgh (Laura Suarez, flickr creative commons)

 My daughter (let's call her E.) and I have gone through all of these phases and, now, we are going through our longest silence since we were reunited. Rationally, I understand the reasons for this: E.s husband died about two years ago; in 2010, her natural father, E. and I were together for the first time since she was born. Both events triggered deep sorrow and anxiety for me. Meanwhile, E. was grieving the loss of her husband. What that means for our relationship is less clear, since she hasn't told me what she's feeling. All she said before cutting off contact was "I'll phone you when I'm ready." The last time we spoke was two years ago, on her birthday, so today, also on her birthday, I'm missing her, frustrated, confused, and have no idea what to do. That's because I don't know if she's taking a time-out or using the silent treatment or some combination of both. I sent her a birthday card and may try to phone her later. May. That would be a big step because she hasn't answered the phone when I called for two years and imagining her ignoring my number is distressing. On the other hand, I'm the mother and maybe I should extend myself further than a card.

What Should You Do When You Are Estranged from an Adult Child?

Knowing what to do, is complicated to say the least. Dr. Joshua Coleman, who works with parents of estranged adult children, has some suggestions.

Why parents should hold back

 

Porch light (photo: Valerie Everett, flickr creative commons)

Laura Davis, author of I Thought We'd Never Speak Again: The Road from Estrangement to Reconciliation, has many wise things to say about estrangement and I recommend her book to anyone who is dealing with estrangement in their own lives. (A full book review to follow in a future post.) Davis describes a strategy which she calls, "Leaving the Porch Light On," that makes sense to me. 

I like to think of it as leaving the porch light on; you are in your home, puttering and content, focused on what you need to do in your own life, but you still keep a warm place in your heart for the person who is gone (p. 306)

Of course, this isn't as easy to do as it sounds. First, you have to get far enough along the path of acceptance and forgiveness, and that takes time. I realize that I need to know more about why my daughter can't "deal with" having me in her life. Sadly, I need to hear this from her, but reading the memoirs of other adoptees can help. I've resisted doing this because they're so triggering. However, if I cannot speak to my daughter, they are the next best thing. So, once I pass through the fragile stage I'm in now, I vow to pick out several memoirs of adoptees and see what I can learn from them. Meanwhile, I'm "keeping the porch light on," through sending birthday cards, Christmas cards, and occasional letters throughout the year. So far, E. hasn't told me to stop doing that, so I will continue.

Finally, a song by Gillian Welch, herself an adoptee. Mary Gauthier is another singer-songwriter/adoptee who has been influenced by adoption. 

 

 

How have you dealt with estrangement from adult children? Have you had any issues with adoption reunion?  I'd love to hear from you. 

 

 

Healing the Earth: Restoring Traumatized Landscapes

There are no passengers on Spaceship Earth. We are all crew.

Marshall McLuhan 

 

 

 

Deforestation, India (photo: Engineering fro Change, flickr creative commons)

 The last post was the bad news. Now, the good news. We don't have to sit back in our seats on Spaceship Earth feeling bad; we can work for change. Scientists have moved on and so should we. They realize that it's too late to reduce carbon before climate change increases and it's time to work on mitigating it. Many have come to understand that we can work to make the Earth stronger and more resilient to face whatever's coming.

In the coming years, we're going to hear more about Climate Change Mitigation, Climate Change Adaptation, and Restoration Ecology. Many mitigation, adaptation, and restoration projects are already going on in places around the world. In today's post, I'm going to look at restoring, what I call, traumatized landscapes. Another term for these landscapes is degraded. All around the world, forests have been cut down and replaced by agricultural, industrial, and urban landscapes. The photo above, shows one such landscape in Rajasthan, India. In Rajasthan,  so many trees have been cut, that women must spend the better part of the day gathering firewood. The women above have to walk one hour each way to get to an area with any wood left - and from the looks of the loads they're carrying, those trees left must be pretty small.

Reforestation, Kenya (photo: Neil Palmer, CIAT, flickr creative commons)

Reforestation is an important part of Restoration Ecology

Planting trees is often  a key part of restoring degraded landscapes. Planting trees in our own communities or yards (gardens) is a good place to start. However, where trees are desperately needed are in places like Africa, China, and South America. A tree planted in a rain forest is also worth more - ecologically speaking - than one planted in a temperate forest. Although there has been some debate about the ability to restore landscapes it has become generally accepted that restoration ecology is a win-win situation for everyone involved: included the restored ecosystem. 

 My Father-in-law's Story

Showy lady's slipper orchid (Wikimedia Commons)

My father-in-law grew up in a degraded landscape in the Saginaw Valley of Michigan. The Saginaw Valley had been clearcut in the nineteenth century, with the exception of a few stands of mature forest in difficult to reach areas. By the 1920s, when my father-in-law was growing up, few trees had been replanted and the landscape was taken up by marginal agriculture and littered with huge pine stumps. Forest fires had come through more than once during the late nineteenth and twentieth century burning second-growth forest. My father-in-law - Albert Augustine or A.A. - bought a 93 acre farm in the early 1940s. The farm, much of which had sandy soil, had about three trees growing on  it, including a beautiful maple that's still there today. Sometime in the early 1940s, the Civilian Conservation Corps began giving out free pine seedlings and over the course of about a decade, A.A. planted 15,000 trees. He had no means to water the trees, so some years most survived and some years, few. By the time I met my husband in the mid-70s, A.A. had his own forest of about 30 acres of white and red pine. It was a beautiful place and, as the trees grew, he also transplanted orchids from areas slated for construction and soon birds and deer began to come back into the area. His final project - and one that has thrived beyond his wildest dreams - was reintroducing wild turkeys. In a way, you could say that my father-in-law was practicing restoration ecology, albeit in a rather crude form. The vacant land that was once filled with only burned stumps became a forest, not as diverse as the one it replaced, but a forest nonetheless. Seeing that forest always makes me smile and think fondly about my father-in-law and his belief in restoring landscapes. 

 Next time, some exciting reforestation projects and how you can support them. Meanwhile, here's an inspirational video about climate change and reforestation. 

  

Wildfires, Drought, and Doom: Global Warming and PTSD

 We're in a giant car heading toward a brick wall and everyone's arguing over where they're going to sit.

David Suzuki

Wildfire, Saratoga Springs, June 22, 2012 (photo: Melissa Hincha-Ownby, flickr creative commons)

Yesterday afternoon, my husband and I were driving down a street near here and a white van pulled out of a gas station ahead of us. I immediately thought of my doctor's patient who is triggered by white vans (which remind him of his experiences in a war zone) and what she said about him struggling with "handling" this trigger. I also thought about how, as people with PTSD navigate through the world, they never know when they may encounter a trigger. These days, I've also been thinking a lot about how global warming can become a potent PTSD trigger. For one thing, people with PTSD may live much of the time with a sense of doom or dread hanging over their lives: who needs real, immediate reasons for those feelings? This is true for those of us in recovery and for people like myself who are living through anniversaries. I know that the climate change/global warming news that we've been bombarded with this summer has heightened my already high sense of anxiety. Don't get me wrong. I believe that climate change is very real and anyone who understands science, particularly physics, agrees with me. What I want to take a look at here, is how events in the real world can add to the anxiety load that people with PTSD already carry.

In this post, I'll discuss the mechanisms involved. Next time, I'll write about ways to cope. 

How can global warming be a PTSD trigger?

 

Worried (photo: Lisa Brewster, flickr creative commons)

 

• Global warming events increase our background level of anxiety.
• Disaster scenarios feed our already shortened sense of a future.
• We may feel powerless in the face of uncontrollable events, which can trigger feelings/memories of our own traumas.
• Climate change denial and silencing may remind us of when we were silenced.
• Like the white van trigger (above), news of global warming is everywhere. 
• Global warming events increase uncertainty about the future and the safety of the world: problems trauma survivors already struggle with. 
• Fears of widespread global disaster are bound to be a trigger.

 The Summer of 2012 in the United States

This summer, has seen more than its share of global warming events and ongoing climate problems, from extreme heat waves to wildfires in the American West to a huge, and spreading, drought in the Midwest. I live on the West Coast and, even here, where it has been pretty normal, there are still unavoidable signs of climate change. Smoke from the huge fires burning in Siberia has traveled across the Pacific and hangs in our air. If I turn on the news, there is often news about fires and droughts and heat waves. All-in-all it has been an unsettling summer. 

Man watering cornfield, circa 1930s, U.S. (flickr creative commons)

 Recent articles, such as, Drought Disaster Declared in U.S have said that temperatures and conditions in parts of the U.S. are worse than the Dust Bowl conditions of the 1930s. It's no wonder I'm feeling on edge. Not to mention the thousands of people, in the U.S. alone, that are survivors of traumatic weather events each year. The larger "elephant in the room," is the realization that our present way of life and the Earth itself is endangered by our changing climate and the political paralysis that has resulted in a non-existent or weak response to looming disaster. But don't take it from me. The National Wildlife Federation recently released a report on The Psychological Effects of Global Warming. I intend to read it after I finish this post. 

But all is not gloom and doom. Next time: how to cope, what to do and what not to do. One of the things not to do - in my opinion - is to wait for a miracle (even if Leonard Cohen makes it sound tempting.)

 

What happens when your child goes through life passages that are PTSD triggers for you?

You cannot step into the same river twice. 

Heraclitus

Standing in water (photo: Leonora Enking, flickr creative commons)

 

 No offense to Heraclitus but even if you can't step in the same river twice, you can watch someone you love step in their own river for the first time. That's what I've been doing this spring and summer - watching my 18-year-old-son fall in love, graduate from high school, and move forward into the next phase of his life. It's unsettling to watch my son navigate the life passages that were so perilous in my own life. I've already written a similar post on the subject, so here's my second take. It's been over two weeks since my son's graduation and, since then, he spent the first night with his girlfriend (while her parents were away) and that, in itself, was a trigger of another sort. I can only guess what happened and to ask would be an invasion of their privacy. I assume, however, that something happened. And that thought is unsettling too. Not that I begrudge them their love or their happiness. Not at all. It's just that watching their love, is a trigger for all sorts of feelings. These feelings are so complex that, sometimes, I can't even put a name to them. I'm happy for them, sad for me and my first love and on edge, waiting for the other shoe to drop. Some days it's not on my mind too much. Other days, like today when we took my son and his girlfriend out for lunch, it's hard to quit thinking about things. And some days I want to warn them: "be careful, love is so fragile, you could lose it just like that, in the blink of an eye." But, of course, I don't because they wouldn't understand.

Planetary alignment

The fact that my son is going through the same events that I did during one of the darkest years of my life, reminds me of a planetary alignment. (Apparently astronomers call this event syzgy.) As much as I understand - which isn't a lot, this is an event when, from our perspective here on earth, three planets are lined up. I'm not sure what astronomers learn from alignments; however, my own alignment has definitely been a learning experience. And that surprises me: that good could come out of a PTSD flashback and it could facilitate healing in ways I didn't expect. Others have also written about this phenomenon. 

Things I've Learned

• First love is precious and fragile.
• Everyone should be supported when they are navigating the passage to adulthood.
• Time doesn't heal all wounds.
• Kindness is more important than most of us realize.
• The things I lost when I was 17, 18, & 19 are irreplaceable. 
• Watching my son and his girlfriend hurts me and heals me. 
• Life goes on and happiness comes again in one form or another.
• Learning from an emotional flashback is better than running away.
• Despite everything that's happened in my life, I can still be sentimental about young love.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

My (PTSD) Summer Anniversaries

Somehow we survive and tenderness, frustrated, does not wither

Dennis Brutus 

Summer, Ann Arbor (photo: Ryan Hyde, flickr creative commons)

Summer is a glorious time of the year. Our summer here on the West Coast got off to a slow start this year (unlike for those of you in the inferno of last week's heat wave). Last week, the rains stopped, the sun came out, and everyone is going around with a smile on their face. Most of the time, I love summer too. I love to go for walks on the beach, eat ice cream cones, and enjoy the long summer days. Summer also has its dark side, when I feel as though a meteor is going to fall out of the sky and land on me. That's because my summer is crammed with the anniversaries of traumatic events. 

 

 

 June 5, 1991                            Miscarriage

July 25, 1971                           Birth and loss of my first child

mid-August, 1971                 Official relinquishment of my daughter for adoption

August, 1972                           Break-up with my high school sweetheart

Summer 1973                         Two sexual assaults

Summer 1983                        Separation from my husband

July 25, 2010                       Last time I spoke to my daughter 

Just reading that list makes me tired. You might think that after all of these years the anniversaries of these events, no matter how horrible they might have been, would no longer intrude on my life. Sadly, that's not how it works. The intrusive emotions associated with PTSD anniversaries soften; however, they never completely go away.  Here is a wonderful post from counselor John C. Flanagan on Anniversary Reactions. How does our brain do that anyway? How does it "remember" when particular anniversaries happen? I know it has something to do with day length, seasonal changes, and specific dates. The beginning of July is often a big trigger for me. I'm sure there are other signals reaching my brain that say: look out!  I also know that we need the part of our brain that does this to keep doing it because it is connected to the larger function of keeping us safe. So, much as I might want the anniversary effect, as one author calls it, to go away, I need that part of my brain to do its job. Here's more on the anniversary effect. 

 Still, I wish that there weren't so many anniversaries bunched up during the summer. It makes me think of a poem by Kay Ryan, called Home to Roost.

 

Chicken (flickr creative commons)

Home to Roost

The chickens 

are circling and

blotting out the 

day. The sun is bright, 

but the 

chickens are in

the way. Yes,

the sky is dark

with chickens,

dense with them.

They turn and 

then they turn

again. 

These 

are the chickens 

you let loose

one at a time

and small -

various breeds.

Now they have

come home

to roost - all 

the same kind

at the same speed. 

 

And sometimes I feel a bit like Wile E. Coyote dodging the many obstacles he faces in every episode.

 

 

Because it's summer, I 'm going to be writing shorter posts and will post every two or three days. 

What are your PTSD anniversaries? How do you cope with them?

Coping with PTSD triggers and flashbacks

Life is not the way it's supposed to be. It's the way it is. The way you cope with it is what makes the difference.

Virginia Satir

 

Coping (photo: Thom Chandler, flickr creative commons)

The methods you can use to cope with PTSD flashbacks and triggers depend on the type of flashback you're having and how intense it is. 

 

 

 

 

 Intense Flashbacks

Sometimes, the emotions and memories associated with flashbacks can be so intense that you may want to hurt yourself or even contemplate suicide. If that's the case, seek help immediately.

• Phone your doctor or therapist 
• Phone a close friend or family member
• Do not stay alone, unless you must. 
• If you are feeling truly suicidal, phone 9-1-1 or go to the closest emergency room. 

 

Holding hands (photo: Bruce McKay, flickr creative commons

 

 Some other methods

1. Hold onto a special object, put your feet on the ground, touch something around you, or hold someone's hand to bring yourself back into the here and now. 

2. Remind yourself that you're safe now; the traumatic event isn't happening again.

3. Listen to soothing music.

 4. Write in your journal.

 5. One of my favorites: get your partner (if you have one) to lie beside you and hold your hand or massage your neck or back. 
 6. Go for a walk. 

 7. Do an easy and repetitive activity. Some suggestions include playing solitaire, knitting, doing crossword puzzles: basically anything that provides a distraction.

8. Practice deep breathing. Breath in through your nose and out through your mouth, making whatever noise feels good on the exhale. 

9. Cry. 

 10. Give yourself permission to feel terrible. Struggling only makes things worse.

When I have strong flashbacks or encounter a disturbing or unexpected trigger, I turn to The PTSD Workbook. I particularly recommend Chapter 4: Helping Yourself When You Reexperience a Trauma. This chapter has helped me on many occasions. 

Here's a great article on 18 Ways to Cope with PTSD Flashbacks that has more excellent suggestions. 

Buddha (photo: Dennis Jarvis, flickr creative commons)

  Long Term Coping

Long term there are other important practices that you can use to become prepared, so that when the flashbacks come, they aren't as strong. The more you know about what's happening and what to do, the more in control you should feel and the less overwhelmed. Here are some practices that I have found to be particularly useful.

• Educate yourself about PTSD. When it comes to PTSD, ignorance is definitely not bliss. 
• Practice relaxation techniques, either formal or informal ones. Some good ones include restorative yoga, quigong, tai chi, meditation, and walking meditation.
• Exercise regularly. Swim, walk, hike, cycle: get moving and get your endorphins up.
• Singing and music can be very helpful practices: they have helped me tremendously.
• See a therapist or your family doctor. 
• Keep a journal.
• Talk to friends or family members. 
• Find a support group. (Be cautious, however. More on this later.)
• Practice self-kindness. 

 

Man thinking (photo: Robyn Jay, flickr creative commons)

 

This last thing is the most important of all!  Don't beat up on yourself if you encounter a trigger and have a flashback or feel really bad. It's not your fault!!  Learning to cope is a skill like any other and it takes time and a great deal of courage and persistence. Maybe, we won't become like the lovely Buddha above, but life will get better. On the other hand, you will probably never completely "get over" your PTSD. I know that even when I'm feeling relaxed and enjoying life, I still find myself looking over my shoulder or expecting something "bad" to happen. Not constantly, but sometimes. It goes with the territory of my life. Will I get beyond this someday? Who knows. Just two days ago, I had to cancel dinner with one of my best friends because I'd had a bad day dealing with a medical crisis with my mother, who's in the hospital with pneumonia. Then my son and his girlfriend hosted a party for a friend who's going away and seeing all those beautiful young people, was a trigger. I was happy for them, but sad for myself that my own high school sweetheart and I had to go through so much together and are now estranged. And so, instead of going to dinner, I went upstairs, shut my door, and read a book. Sometimes, however, I just let myself feel sad and it was okay. Here are some final words to ponder from Chilean poet Pablo Neruda.

 

from Oh, earth wait for me

 

River (flickr creative commons)

 

I want to go back to being what I haven't been,

to learn to return from such depths that among all natural things I may live or not live.

I don't mind being one stone more, the dark stone, the pure stone that the river bears away.

by Pablo Neruda  

How do you cope with PTSD flashbacks? I'd love to hear your story.