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#PTSDChat

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PTS Embarrassing Moments Shared

EMDR is an interesting journey. Interesting in the super crappy sense.  Interesting in the “you could write a horror movie that Alfred Hitchcock would faint watching”, sense.  Interesting in the “Why me?” sense. It’s been a tough go.  First and worst is supposed to be the route, but my trauma was so complex from babyhood to age 15; multi-layered with intersecting slicing personalities inflicting deep injuries on my child psysche that left my poor therapist needing therapy.  I was a few months in and focused on healing.  Focused on not going back to the place with the shot gun and my toe wedged in the trigger wanting to just stop the motion picture show in my head. My happy place is my kids elementary school where I teach art.  I love this place.  I love children.  Love watching their genius unfold, see them find their voices and express their deepest…

idiots in suits & white shirts will be the death of us all

The windows overlook the back end of another grey municipal building; the carpet is made of that indestructible plastic fibre that will still be around for the apocalypse.  Untouched by the tread of police boots, coffee spills and no doubt, if acid were to spill the acid would flop impotently back into the jar.  No doubt.  I am the fly on the wall watching and listening to the meetings being held behind closed doors in police, EMS, Fire Fighting and military recruiting departments across the world: one burning question to ask, “How do we hire people who won’t get PTS?” Post Traumatic Stress Work related stress injury. How do you hire folk that won’t get PTS? Well, said the fly, that’s really quite simple. “Hire a human that resembles that carpet beneath your feet.  Hire a human who will look on at the suffering they are witnesses to, the pain…

BITING THE BULLET FOR BASTARDS

How strange it is that the ones we would bite the bullet for are the ones behind the trigger.  A new cop friend told me in our first exchange that “Betrayal is the wilful slaughter of Trust”.  When an institution claims ‘Trust’ as one of its core beliefs, what are we to make of their focused, wilful betrayal of their own? A soldier does not fight for esoteric ideals expostulated in the rarified air of the corridors of power (also known as political bullshit); he fights for his NCO, his General, his brothers in arms. A cop who lives solely for the gratitude of the public he protects will die quickly and miserably: the general public wants him only when they are in dire trouble and need him to vanish as quickly as he arrived, embarrassed that he is there at all. No. A cop bites the bullet for…

Flashbacks: "GET OVER IT!"

My uncle is a kind, gentle, intelligent man. I distrust him as I do all adults, whilst I respect his intelligence and his knowledge. He is a Head Doctor and has answered my questions with a sad, deep sigh, saying “There is nothing that modern medicine can do to help you. You must simply try to control it and do not whatever you do, open that pandora box in your head. If you do, we will not be able to put you back together again. The child brain is more plastic than the adult – it has ways of protecting you in a way an adult brain, cannot. Do not talk about it. Just do your best to avoid the things you know you can’t handle.” The year is 1985 and I want answers. My mother has hit me for the last time. I took my beating, both physical…