Author

Kate Gillie

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Sharing with PTSD Peers: the how to and managing other’s triggers

Share your story. Talk about it. It will reduce the hold it has on you. On and on it goes, with everybody poking at you to unburden yourself of your trauma.  Some are doing it because there is a genuine desire to help, exposing you to the details of your trauma by retelling it does over time and with repetition, reduce the power it has over your body and mind.  Some do it because they are nosy bastards and want the details to get a vicarious rush from it all: aka, trauma whores.  Others are peers who know that by walking with you and keeping you going, talking, that you will gradually get through the darkness into the light. Exposure therapy is the cusp of the argument to share your trauma story.  Expose you to it as often as we can and slowly, bit by bit, it will be reduced…

What worries me about yesterday’s act of mass murder #TorontoAttack

There’s an old meme that comes to mind as I type. It describes a new atrocity with the …. don’t jump to conclusions … and …. follows it with “…. the Muslim did it” Part of me truly wishes the Muslim had done it.  Shocking I know, but breath and let me explain. We understand extreme ideologies and let’s be clear acts of violence like this done for ideological reasons are not done by run of the mill devotees but those that have been radicalized.  The great advantage we have over this type of terror is that we for the most part can with enough money and focus dig out those radical factors, watch them and stop them. Over the last three years I have become more and more concerned about the disenfranchised of our society.  Western society.  When I see posts like “My son is a future rapist” or…

Dealing with the trauma of the #TorontoAttack

For most of my life I have had an irrational fear of smells, sounds, things and touch which my brain had stored away as “warning signs” that bad stuff was about to happen.  EMDR unlocked pandora box after pandora box of stacked horrors neatly stored behind the walls that my brain and body had carefully crafted to keep me alive.  This is what we refer to as Complex Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. My earliest trauma that we could access was my mother using, the vehicle I was in, as a weapon. For those of you who have been part of or witness to this appalling horror in Toronto where an unhinged human used his van as a weapon, I can only help by providing you with the tools, the experience and the ways to fight back that I have learnt. ANGER & RAGE If you are a cop, a firefighter…

Child Abuse – how I survived and how you can too

“Child abuse or child maltreatment is physical, sexual or psychological maltreatment or neglect of a child, especially by a parent or other caregiver.” That’s the definition but what is the reality?  I can only speak to my experiences.  My childhood was never going to be stellar given that I was born in Rhodesia in 1970 during what was going to be one of the bloodiest, nastiest African Civil Wars.  Placed for the most part on an isolated coffee estate on the Mozambique border with a father and mother who swirled in a toxic violent alcohol fuelled hell, was clearly not a great start either.  I have lived with the rumours that I wasn’t my father’s natural child, his will on his death confirmed it.  The fact that they were both capable of incredible acts of violence and cruelty, well that was something I was going to enjoy for the first…