The Good News Project: Vol. 33— The Trigger for an Uncommon Compassion by Jane Beller
This is the thirty-third edition of The Good News Project: A series where anyone can share a personal story of inspiration or an event in life where they overcame tremendous odds. Everyone has a powerful story to tell and something to teach the world. (Here are guidelines on how you can write for The Good News Project.) Here we have Jane Beller with "The Trigger for an Uncommon Compassion"
--Picture this. You spend an enormous amount of time inventing worst-case scenarios in your mind, worthy of the most ridiculous soap opera story lines. You are irrationally fearful of becoming homeless. You jump at loud noises. You have the most frightening nightmares several times a week. The term “day-mares” seems absurd to most people but not to you—you laugh because you understand exactly what it means. You have this voice in your head telling you, several times a day, that you should “just kill yourself.” It speaks as if suicide is the simplest solution to even the most banal problem.
I lived that way for twenty years. Then one day I was called upon to do jury duty. I couldn’t look towards one side of the courtroom. I was shaking violently. I was terrified. When they tried to calm me down by saying I might not have to serve in this actual courtroom but “down that hall where that door is,” I looked down the empty hallway and screamed.
Something was terribly wrong.
I stumbled out of there crying, called my sister, and told her I was crazy.
Rewind, twenty years earlier, I was fifteen and my sister was nineteen, we were abducted by a man. He posed as a policeman. He took us in his car to a dark street. He held a knife to my back, pushing my face into the car radio, and sexually molested my sister, with me in between them. He told us repeatedly that he was doing this for our own good. That there are bad people out there. That he was doing us a favor.
The cops knew who it was the minute we called them. He was not a first time offender, but they had never successfully convicted him. Five months later, we were in a courtroom. The defense attorney tried to accuse us of being prostitutes. Our kidnapper was a few feet away, staring me down, unblinkingly, like Charles Manson. The defense attorney kept badgering me, asking me how many fingers did the man put into my sister’s vagina. I was still a child. I was virgin. I felt as if all the grown ups in the room had abandoned me.
We put him in jail on two counts of kidnapping, one count of assault with a deadly weapon, and one count of sexual assault. I do not regret putting him in jail. I never have. I couldn’t have lived thinking he would do this to anyone else. But the court case took its toll on me.
Fast-forward to jury duty those many years later. I was once again a traumatized fifteen-year old girl, and he was staring me down from the side of the courtroom. Afterwards I went to see a therapist, and he said, “well you know you have PTSD, right?” Clearly, I didn’t. I had seen many a therapist before, but PTSD wasn't mentioned. It wasn’t a known entity, yet.
PTSD is Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. It is a mental health condition resulting from a traumatic event. Humans are born with an innate need to avoid or defend themselves from danger, and we all have natural flight, fight, and freeze responses. It is normal to feel fear when you are in these situations. But people like me feel fear when there is no danger. A trigger is the catalyst that brings on these reactions. It could be something as simple as a song, or a scene in a film, or a television program. It could be a news event, a loud noise, or a person’s emotional outburst.
When I am triggered, I become dazed and feel like a deer in the headlights. That is my "freeze" response. Or I can get speedy and jumpy, and sometimes I impulsively remove myself from an uncomfortable situation. Those are my “flight” responses. I feel the need to physically defend people when I perceive a danger. That is my “fight” response.
Not knowing I was triggered all those years, not knowing what PTSD was, I did not know I could find help.
I found the right therapist for me. Simply put, she makes me feel better. I work very hard in therapy, and I leave her office every time with a renewed pep in my step. I have actually skipped down the city street after leaving her office! That skip is her doing. She helps return me to the same funny child I once was.
Talk therapy and EMDR (Eye Movement Desensitization & Reprocessing Therapy*) are tools that have changed my life. And I get to do them with probably the kindest soul I've ever met. I am learning how to understand PTSD and live peacefully with it.
I don’t have to pretend to be brave and act tough all the time. I can just be me. I am not frightened as often. I have learned to recognize signs of my PTSD, and I now have tools to gently pull myself back in off the proverbial edge.
They say that PTSD never goes away. But instead of it being a living nightmare, it has just become a part of me to which I must consistently tend and look after. I now more naturally choose friends who are empathetic and understanding, and who choose positive paths around their own roadblocks. And it has actually given me a gift—not only can I empathize with others’ struggles, but I can offer them a sort of uncommon compassion. That is the silver lining to my dark cloud. I can show up and bring them a small ray of sunshine.
* For more information about PTSD Peter Levine’s books are highly recommended. Though for those with PTSD, getting help is the answer.
* For more information about EMDR and/or to find a trained therapist go to: http://www.emdr.com
--Picture this. You spend an enormous amount of time inventing worst-case scenarios in your mind, worthy of the most ridiculous soap opera story lines. You are irrationally fearful of becoming homeless. You jump at loud noises. You have the most frightening nightmares several times a week. The term “day-mares” seems absurd to most people but not to you—you laugh because you understand exactly what it means. You have this voice in your head telling you, several times a day, that you should “just kill yourself.” It speaks as if suicide is the simplest solution to even the most banal problem.
I lived that way for twenty years. Then one day I was called upon to do jury duty. I couldn’t look towards one side of the courtroom. I was shaking violently. I was terrified. When they tried to calm me down by saying I might not have to serve in this actual courtroom but “down that hall where that door is,” I looked down the empty hallway and screamed.
Something was terribly wrong.
I stumbled out of there crying, called my sister, and told her I was crazy.
Rewind, twenty years earlier, I was fifteen and my sister was nineteen, we were abducted by a man. He posed as a policeman. He took us in his car to a dark street. He held a knife to my back, pushing my face into the car radio, and sexually molested my sister, with me in between them. He told us repeatedly that he was doing this for our own good. That there are bad people out there. That he was doing us a favor.
The cops knew who it was the minute we called them. He was not a first time offender, but they had never successfully convicted him. Five months later, we were in a courtroom. The defense attorney tried to accuse us of being prostitutes. Our kidnapper was a few feet away, staring me down, unblinkingly, like Charles Manson. The defense attorney kept badgering me, asking me how many fingers did the man put into my sister’s vagina. I was still a child. I was virgin. I felt as if all the grown ups in the room had abandoned me.
We put him in jail on two counts of kidnapping, one count of assault with a deadly weapon, and one count of sexual assault. I do not regret putting him in jail. I never have. I couldn’t have lived thinking he would do this to anyone else. But the court case took its toll on me.
Fast-forward to jury duty those many years later. I was once again a traumatized fifteen-year old girl, and he was staring me down from the side of the courtroom. Afterwards I went to see a therapist, and he said, “well you know you have PTSD, right?” Clearly, I didn’t. I had seen many a therapist before, but PTSD wasn't mentioned. It wasn’t a known entity, yet.
PTSD is Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. It is a mental health condition resulting from a traumatic event. Humans are born with an innate need to avoid or defend themselves from danger, and we all have natural flight, fight, and freeze responses. It is normal to feel fear when you are in these situations. But people like me feel fear when there is no danger. A trigger is the catalyst that brings on these reactions. It could be something as simple as a song, or a scene in a film, or a television program. It could be a news event, a loud noise, or a person’s emotional outburst.
When I am triggered, I become dazed and feel like a deer in the headlights. That is my "freeze" response. Or I can get speedy and jumpy, and sometimes I impulsively remove myself from an uncomfortable situation. Those are my “flight” responses. I feel the need to physically defend people when I perceive a danger. That is my “fight” response.
Not knowing I was triggered all those years, not knowing what PTSD was, I did not know I could find help.
I found the right therapist for me. Simply put, she makes me feel better. I work very hard in therapy, and I leave her office every time with a renewed pep in my step. I have actually skipped down the city street after leaving her office! That skip is her doing. She helps return me to the same funny child I once was.
Talk therapy and EMDR (Eye Movement Desensitization & Reprocessing Therapy*) are tools that have changed my life. And I get to do them with probably the kindest soul I've ever met. I am learning how to understand PTSD and live peacefully with it.
I don’t have to pretend to be brave and act tough all the time. I can just be me. I am not frightened as often. I have learned to recognize signs of my PTSD, and I now have tools to gently pull myself back in off the proverbial edge.
They say that PTSD never goes away. But instead of it being a living nightmare, it has just become a part of me to which I must consistently tend and look after. I now more naturally choose friends who are empathetic and understanding, and who choose positive paths around their own roadblocks. And it has actually given me a gift—not only can I empathize with others’ struggles, but I can offer them a sort of uncommon compassion. That is the silver lining to my dark cloud. I can show up and bring them a small ray of sunshine.
* For more information about PTSD Peter Levine’s books are highly recommended. Though for those with PTSD, getting help is the answer.
* For more information about EMDR and/or to find a trained therapist go to: http://www.emdr.com
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