At risk of sounding like a therapy junkie, I am currently halfway through my therapy for Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. Once a week, I spend an intense hour and a half attempting to put my many demons back into their box and get my life in order.
Unlike the hypnotherapy for my wasp problem, this is not a particular straightfoward task. I know what I want to achieve from the PTSD therapy, but since I have to do all the hard work myself without any helpful input from my subconscious, it is a much trickier path, especially since all the fears and anxieties my PTSD are more low level and insidious than the my fear of wasps. The former is constant, the latter is seasonal and while my answer to both is stay indoors away from the big bad world, it doesn't really help either problem.
Post Traumatic Stress Disorder is a slippery customer to define. It tends to encompass a certain number of common symptoms, such as suffering nightmares and the day-time equivalent known as 'flashbacks', along with active avoidance of anything that exacerbates or 'triggers' symptoms and feelings and a sense of heightened danger and being 'on guard'. The severity and complexity of these symptoms can vary according to the type of trauma experienced, leaving a combat veteran and a rape victim with the same disorder, but on different pages.
PTSD also causes secondary problems that develop like ivy on the drainpipe of an old house. In my case these are depression, anxiety, panic disorder and agoraphobia. The sheer list of problems to be tackled in 12 weeks of therapy can be discouraging in itself, but it would be very fulfilling to tick off each of those things at the end of it. Unfortunately all these secondary problem make it more difficult to thwart the PTSD. They interfere with the attempt to consign the current feeling of flashbacks that make it feel like the trauma is happening to you again to regular normal memories that lurk in your mind, only to be recalled when you choose. It is the difference between keeping everything in a messy emotional heap that threatens to take over the table or storing it neatly in a filing cabinet to access when needed.
Sadly I have never been very good with random bits of paper and tend to accumulate piles on tables in my physical life, so I'm not entirely sure why it comes as such a shock to me that I haven't been able to tidy my emotions either. It's never particularly confidence inspiring to have to admit to yourself or others that you can't handle your own emotions and events in your life, especially when others have managed fine, but that has been the reality of the last few years of my life. I'm also my own greatest critic (in my mind I'm like one of those old school types with a super posh accent who frequents a members' club) so I find it hard to admit it's ok to find things tough.
It seemed like for the therapy to work, I was going to have to change a lot about myself as person as well as try to put the lid back on Pandora's Box. Unsurprisingly I was apprehensive about this, but it turns out that my therapy is more about being encouraged to look at things from another perspective rather than the rut I've got myself into over the past few years. It's surprisingly easy to do when someone else guides you and I'm getting a lot more from the sessions than I expected.
I have had CBT for these problems a few years previously, although without a formal diagnosis of PTSD. This is when I discovered that it's sometimes not about the therapy, but all about the therapist. If you don't trust them and feel like they will be your safety net in tough times, it's probably not worth even doing the therapy. My first CBT practitioner was not-so affectionately known in my house as Dr Dickhead. His helpful advice to someone as traumatised as myself was that I was paranoid about personal safety as so many women are, and that I was nervous around men not because 3 had attacked me in 1 year, but because my parents are divorced. Our sessions were shortlived to say the least.
My current therapist is calm, reassuring and encouraging. There is no sense of judgement, just a genuine feeling that she wants to help me resolve my issues. Plus she is available by email in between the sessions if anything gets too much which is a particular reassurance. I feel I can talk to her about even the weirdest things that arise in my sessions. It just goes to show that the NHS can get mental health services right if you give them long enough! All I need to do is keep up the hard work for the next 5 weeks...and hope I don't start to lapse into therapy speak before then!
I started this blog as a way to talk to myself as I worked my way toward rebuilding my life after experiencing two rapes. Then other people started reading it too and I realised talking about myself wasn't enough and expanded it to having an opinion on everything, especially women and sexual violence. I want this to be a safe welcoming space so please assume all posts need a trigger warning for rape, PTSD, general trauma related crappiness and bad jokes. I'm thrilled anyone reads it and want everyone to feel welcome, including men who may have been victims. I talk about rape from a woman's perspective as that's my own experience, but don't want to exclude anyone who doesn't feel their experience is the same. Feel free to browse or make comments. These are moderated so any apologist crap hits the bin, but not to boost my ego. Anonymous comments or pseudonyms are fine by me since I only blog anonymously myself. Thanks for reading. I do reward you with the odd lighthearted post as well...