Topic: Trauma

Today,

in honor and memory of those who went and didn’t come back,

and for those who mourn them and remain behind,

for those who went and came back never to be the same,

for those that live with them forever changed…

we remember.

At our house, it was a somber and quiet moment this morning as we watched and listened to the bugle call. Tears rolled down my face as the cameras showed one veteran after another during the minutes of utter silence amongst the large crowd in Ottawa on television. We watched the Silver Cross Mother lay the wreath, struggling for control, remembering her son, and all the other sons who are gone. I thought of her, of the other mothers...

I know of a friend, a veteran, who is avoiding television this week…a week when there are retrospectives about those who fought, outlining the courage of soldiers and the horrors of war. Although he respects and honors those who fought for freedom, he dares not allow the fragile present be shattered by vivid images of the past which will trigger the horrible memories. He will go to extremes to avoid re-experiencing the jarring hijacking of his body of gripping terror and feelings of imminent doom. He will remember, but will tread carefully amongst the land mines of memories to remember the fallen without letting himself fall back in the pit of PTSD devastation.

It is hard for many who have seen combat to figure out how to fit back into “this world”…and historically, many have found their “safe place” at the legion, having a pint (or more) with others who were also there, and who also don’t really fit in anymore. Very few speak of their memories and their fears…many numb their memories in a separate part of their psyche…but to hang out with those who get how that sort of repression takes a toll on one’s soul is important.

I’ve known and cried with the daughters and sons of those whose bodies come back from war but their souls are in pieces, and held together by a hard shell that stops tenderness and playful connection. Their father came home…but not in a way that meant that meant they had a “daddy”.

I’ve also had friends who are new Canadians, managing to make it to a new life here after years spent in refugee/resettlement camps. Events like Halloween with the presence of skeletons and “blood and guts” are not fun, but rather terrifying triggers that remind them of the massacres they have witnessed…watching loved ones be killed. Their memories of war are literally unspeakable.

I’ve learned much this last year about honor and desire to serve one’s country, about the dedication and commitment to the high calling of serving one’s country and the global community. Those who could be businessman or tradespeople and come home to their families at 6:00 daily, and instead are willing to be ripped away from their families for months at a time, believing in a nobler, higher calling. I honor those difficult choices. I’ve come to admire those serving in the military in a way I’d never have imagined this last year…and yet I remain torn.

It all feels rather hopeless to a humble Winnipeg therapist…to witness the incredible effects of war on soldiers, victims of war, and casualties of war at home and abroad. Seems there are no true victors in the ravages of violent conflict.

I intentionally look for ways to be a peace maker…to create space and opportunities for others to have increased peace in their lives…combating poverty, interpersonal conflict, oppression and victimization is vital to the idea of “Never Again”… the slogan frequently used to express desire to end the need for war.

It is the oppressed and victims of one generation who often rise up to be the oppressors and victimizers of the next generation. To that end, I offer up my very humble efforts as my contribution for peace. These pale in comparison to the sacrifices many have paid for peace, but in this stage of life raising my tribe, I work to do small things:

• Staying in tune with world events, receiving emails from ONE.org “ONE is a grassroots campaign of more than 2.5 million people committed to the fight against extreme poverty and preventable diseases.” ONE works to address global inequities, and to raise awareness. I sign petitions requesting debt relief or changes in policy allowing the oppressed opportunities to gain adequate health care, clean water or adequate diet. I’m just one, but I am one…and I can combine with millions of other “ones” to make a difference.
  
• Sponsoring Louis through World Vision. Louis lives in Haiti. He likes soccer and math, and his best friend is Joribeus. Louis has been a part of our family for about 5 years now. Louis’ life is different because we are a part of it…we partner with his parents to make sure he has what he needs to help him grow up to be a productive and healthy member of society
  
• Contributing to Siloam Mission by supervising students. They take on projects that the full time staff who work tirelessly can’t get to…the needs are great. Some of the homeless there are veterans, all live in poverty…and taking care of the less fortunate is one way to address injustice which creates the seeds of unrest.
  
• A commitment to difficult conversations…ones that are uncomfortable, that apologize for when I’ve hurt someone, that work to make strained relationships right. I’ve had a few of these in last weeks in my personal life. I’ve had many challenging and important conversations between clients as husband and wife, mother and son, and others collaborate to improve relationships.
  
• Anger Management…one at a time, or in small groups…honoring the underlying reasons for anger and providing inspiration and tools for speaking honorably on behalf of anger rather than out of anger…a way of resolving conflict without violence. We provide good quality anger management, and I’m proud of the difference we make in people’s lives.
  

 We are all global citizens…we are all invited to honor those who have paid the price for peace by doing our small part to increase this planet’s potential for harmony.

The trauma of childhood sexual abuse has too often focused on the vulnerability of girls.  One in three girls is sexually abused...that's a lot, a lot of girls.  How many women do you know?  Statistically, one in three has been violated.  So, so many.  So many lives changed, so many tears shed, so many hearts torn and then hardened.

Tyler Perry, a popular Hollywood mogul, took male sexual abuse out of the closet and onto Oprah's stage.  Oprah Winfrey and Tyler Perry invited men to join him...200 men joined them in the audience.  One in 6 boys are sexually abused...that's a lot, a lot of boys.  How many men do you know? Statiscally, one in six has been violated.  So, so many.  So many lives changed, so many tears shed, so many hearts torn and then hardened. 

So much shame, so much secrecy, so much confusion.

I work with people daily who have experienced significant trauma in their lives, so you think that a show like this would be "no big deal" to me.  Not.

Watch the opening few seconds of this show.  Although I don't have a chance to catch Oprah often, I watched the tape of this episode, and it was worth it to spend an hour Friday night watching it.  The opening 20 seconds stopped my breath and started the tears.


There weren't just 200 men who had experienced sexual abuse, there were 200 men with photos of themselves as little boys...a poignant reminder of who had been hurt.  Little smiling faces for school photos, a slugger in a baseball uniform, an alter boy.  No music, no voice over, just simple silence as we gazed at these men holding tender, vulnerable pictures of themselves as little boys. And throughout the show, when interviewing the men, there would be a subtitle on the bottom with his name...and the photo of him as a child.

The silent sight of 200 men standing honoring the memory of those little boys, is something that brings tears to my eyes even as I write this. It wasn't big strapping men who had vague memories of something bad happening, it was little boys BEING hurt.  Little boys defenseless, confused, hurting, and trapped.  Each man carried the little boy to the Oprah show that day...many with all the internal pain of that little boy still locked inside.

The unique challenges of being a male survivor of childhood sexual abuse are dealing with the confusing way in which a boy's body betrays him.  As the reflexive erection occurs, he is told that he is enjoying the abuse, may in fact be welcoming it.  The erection, on a biological level, feels good--even though when the touch is not welcome.  Sometimes the touch is both welcomed and not welcomed when it comes from a trusted caregiver who has carefully wooed and seduced a child gradually over time, grooming him for abuse in a way that builds in secrecy and trust.

As someone who has experienced abuse and is distressed by it, a man generally feels there are few options to deal with the pain. There is a North American cultural expectation that men be strong, not show feelings, not be weak or vulnerable.  Talking about abuse is, by definition, a very vulnerable experience.  Substance abuse, alcohol use and abuse, broken relationships often result as ineffective strategies to deal with the pain inside.

I was humbled by the courage of these men who braved a lifetime of secrecy and shame to work towards a healing, brought by naming what had happened, beginning to understand what it meant (someone hurt them) and what it didn't mean (no kid asks for it, no kid deserves it).

If I think about all the men I know, and divide the number by 6...well, that's a lot of men.  Know that we women will work towards making it easier to talk about your abuse.  We as women want to work to allow you to be vulnerable, to not always have to be strong, to let your journey be known in the way you feel comfortable.

This message is for the 1 in 6 males out there who have been hurt:  I'm so sorry this happened to you.  It should not have been happened.  You did not deserve to be hurt.  It must have been difficult, confusing, and hard to be violated.  It must be hard to talk about now.  May you find ways to work towards peace in your soul on this.

Those who struggle with memories and bodily effects of childhood trauma won't be surprised by the news in The Winnipeg Free Press today.  Hypervigilance, which is a super-aware-alertness to the world around, with particular attention to impending danger is exhausting, and wears on a body.  Those who grew up in a chaotic, dangerous household, that became frightening at irregular intervals know what I'm writing about.  That hypervigilance was hugely adaptive as a child--it got a child through scary situations in their life...helping them to anticipate dangerous situations and then be able to help prevent disaster (e.g. find ways of keeping a drunk dad from going into a rage by doing things that would keep him happy and work to prevent triggers that could have him fly into a rage), or seek safety (e.g. to run and hide in the garage, or under the bed).  But a body learns that hypervigiliance as a coping strategy and learns it well...and there is no "turning it off" and it continues to be present in a body, even when life becomes safer.

The article stated:

"Childhood abuse may be a predictor for heart disease in adult life, suggests a study published this week by the University of Toronto...further research needs to be conducted to be able to explain physiologically why childhood physical abuse may trigger heart disease. One theory is that victimized children have to relate to how much cortisol, also known as the "fight or flight" or stress hormone they have in their bodies.

"These children are more likely to be always alert, they can't relax and become more vulnerable to stress because they worry whether they will be abused," she said. "Some literature has indicated that people with heart disease have higher rates of cortisol."

Another theory is that people with more stress are also more likely to have chronic inflammation, which is shown to be at higher rates in heart disease patients. "Child abuse is just one factor of many," said Fuller-Thomson. "I don't want people who experienced abuse to feel like they've been condemned to have heart disease. They have slightly higher odds and just need to be more vigilant in monitoring their weight and checking their blood pressure."

(Bolded emphasis mine)

  Childhood trauma is not a cardiac death sentence.  This rather serves as a voice of powerful understanding and validation to those who feel the stress in their bodies even decades after the trauma.

"I killed who she could have been,"

said David, who sexually abused his cousin for 12 years. 

He goes on to say that the woman he abused contacted him through her therapist a few years ago, and she had a conversation with him.  She wanted to let him know that she forgave him.  David said he had trouble with that, because he felt that what he did was unforgiveable.  That was a powerful line to witness.  Wow.  He gets it.  He understands the devastation of what he did.

I work with many people who have experienced the trauma of childhood sexual abuse.  I have rarely worked with those who have been the abusers. Today on CTV, the Oprah Show had  Oprah interviewing those who have been in treatment for sexually abusing children.  She asks them what they have done--she asks them to say it--to be specific about the ugliness--and they are. The focus is on educating parents to prevent their children from getting hurt. However, there was a much larger component that I think was quite healing to hear (which is surprising given the topic and interviewees)...the comments of some viewers said they found value in abusers taking responsibility for their actions, demonstrating greater understanding of their actions, recognizing the long journey of healing for those they hurt, and not minimizing the danger they have posed and may still pose to others.  Some of the comments of the child molesters demonstrate that while they are on their way to healing, they are not all the way there yet--at times their therapist would gently facilitate them to increase their honesty.  It was gutsy for Oprah to ask the questions she did and it was gutsy for the molesters to answer her honestly. 

Oprah is able to help the men discuss the sinister side of seduction of children who are molested (Unfortunately she implies that generally children don't experience the abuse as traumatic at the time because they are pulled into it by someone they care about, who wants them to "feel good"...the evidence, and certainly my experience says that it is more complex than that--many children are very hurt, even in the moment, by sexual abuse).

This is a long interview which won't interest many readers.  It may be an interview that is too harsh for some to hear who have been hurt--this may hit "too close to home"--don't listen to it if you have been sexually violated as a child and you haven't had lots of support to process it. It is an interview that is explicit and hard to listen. It is not for the faint of heart. But there will be some that will find it healing--to know that there are perpetrators who have been willing to work hard to acknowledge what they have done, are willing to make themselves vulnerable across a nation as part of educating parents to protect their children. 

Oprah doesn't have it set up to allow embedding the entire video here on the blog...but you can go to her website and view it. 

Motherhood is wired into animals:  A mother duck won't let you near her babies.

This lesson reviewed for me powerfully as I was admiring the baby ducklings on my run in the Calgary Bow River Trail Park last weekend. They were resplendent in their furriness…adorable, fuzzy little creatures. They were my second favorite thing to look at on my trip last weekend. I couldn’t stop gawking at these cute babies as they waddled in packs.

My most favorite thing was closely related to this: their mothers and their hostility towards me.

I am a heckuva lot bigger than they are. Really, a mother duck is no match for a human like me—even though I’m not particularly vertically gifted. I’m bigger, stronger, and smarter. Now, mother ducks have hard beaks, but really, I think I could take her…ordinarily.

But a mother duck has the zeal of a mother looking after her babies. And no human is a match for that.

The mother ducks hissed at me something fierce when I got too close to admiring their little ones. They’d hiss at me fiercely and hustle off their little ducklings. Hiss and hustle. Hiss and hustle. Took their jobs of keeping their offspring safe VERY seriously.

I LOVED that.

See, I firmly believe that little ones everywhere love living in the security of their mothers protecting and them and keeping them safe. Mothers everywhere are keeping their offspring safe…calves, lambs, ducklings and so on. One of the first things I remember learning when I went to a National Park for the first time is: “NEVER stand between a mother bear and her cub”.

Which is why some of my clients so desperately struggle with depression when they live with the devastating feeling that: “My mother didn’t protect me”. Often times, a person can be more upset at their mother for not keeping them safe than they are upset about the person who was dangerous for them:

• The pain of knowing a mother chose not to leave an abusive home.  Mom may also have been yelled at, ridiculed and hit, or maybe she wasn't--but was scared to consider options and put her hands over her ears when dad tore a strip one side and down the other off a kid.
  
• The abandonment that is felt when it seems a mom looked the other way when a relative touched them in a way that was “bad touch”.  She might have wondered how the family would react--if they would believe her and the child...it was just easier to show up at the next family gathering and pray that it wouldn't happen that time.
  
• The feeling of being unimportant when mom makes excuses for a father’s yelling and drunken rages and dismisses the terror of the children and expected them to not notice the broken furniture or holes in the walls the next morning.  The child lives with an ongoing sustained level of fear that happens when there is the knowledge that it might happen again tomorrow, or maybe the next night, or maybe next week, but certainly knowing it will happen again. And sensing that if it gets worse, they're in real trouble because mom doesn't recognize the seriousness and won't take action.
  

These children fear that which is unsafe (as all would) but also fear that their mother won’t protect them when the level of danger rises because they have learned that she doesn’t put their safety first. That is a double whammy for a kid.

I recognize that mothers who don’t protect their kids often didn’t experience protection themselves—having grown up in abusive homes or in residential schools, and themselves didn’t have models which demonstrated how to protect children, and provide them with that sense of safety. It’s hard to provide something that one has never experienced. 

It’s natural to want to feel safe and protected. It’s natural to look to mom to expect her to protect you and keep you safe. We see it all around us. I have seen people cope with significant abuse with amazing resilience which is aided when they have parents that take action, that recognize that something to needs to happen to keep the child safe, when they are outraged at the source of danger, and offer help/support/hugs/security. And when it doesn’t happen, the sense of betrayal and confusion is huge. Children wonder, “What is wrong with me that she doesn’t protect me?” or “How come she doesn’t love me enough to keep me safe?” Children (of all ages) scramble for missing pieces of the puzzle as they endeavor to understand that betrayal.

Having worked with many who struggle with the sense of loss of a mother’s protection, it warmed my heart to see one mommy duck after another quickly gather her courage and without thinking, let me know that there is no messing with her babies. 

Thanx, mother ducks…you done my heart good.