I have a personal theory about Post Traumatic Stress Syndrome. I believe the brain replays traumatic/adrenaline surged events in order to learn how not to do that again, whatever that may be. The fastest way for a person to end this kind of playback is to examine “that” and plan alternate courses of action to prevent it. Post Traumatic Stress Disorder occurs when a person feels powerless to affect the cause of the trauma. The playback is endless because no matter how many times the event is played back no pathway is found to prevent it from ever happening again. “Playback” may be as vivid as a full sensory flashback, or as mild as a feeling of fear or depression when similar circumstances are encountered. By this point in my post I’ve probably played merry hell with proper psychological terminology, I don’t much care. I’m trying to explain to myself what has been happening in my head for the past 7 years.
Seven years ago I underwent 7 weeks of radiation therapy to eradicate a tumor under my chin. It was a miserable experience. The tumor had been surgically removed, regrown, and removed again. It looked like the only way to prevent a cyclical repeat of regrowth and surgery was to radiate it until it was dead and I wasn’t. The therapy began at the end of January 1999 and ended in the middle of March. My mom had to come at stay with us for the last three weeks because I couldn’t keep things together. As soon as the therapy was over I shut the door on that part of my life. I was so desperate to be done with it and never go there again that I didn’t even want to think about it. I believe the proper psychological term for that is denial or maybe avoidance.
In the past 7 years I’ve always thought of radiation as something that was over. I’m done with that, so I don’t need to think about it. Only I’m not done with it. The experience was long enough and unpleasant enough that it set up a whole raft of associations in my brain that affect my moods and thinking. Howard tells me that every January/February he observes a noticable downtick in my moods. As soon as the holidays are over I start longing for spring because in 1999 spring coincided with the end of radiation therapy. I love crocus because they are a sign that the Bad Time is over. Last year I didn’t have a “downtick” during the winter. I remember thinking about it and feeling like I’d finally put behind me the last lingering emotional effects of the radiation therapy. I was wrong, this year all the associations are back with a vengence. Apparently I can’t just “put it behind me,” I need to face it and examine it. Not really something I want to do.
So I guess it is time for me to end the avoidance or denial or whatever you want to call it. I need to do some writing to take a clear look at what I went through and how I feel about it, because I packed the experience away so quickly I’m sure there are unresolved threads there. It’s been packed away for so many years that the memories are sure to be moth eaten and wrinkly, so anybody who was around me back then is welcome to add input or corrections as they see fit. This process will probably take several entries, I’ll try to put them behind cuts so that if anyone else wants to avoid this plunge into my worst winter, they can. To be honest I have very mixed feelings about putting this in livejournal at all. Part of me is afraid that it’ll look like I’m asking for pity or sympathy. This is the same part that is always reluctant to ask for help even when it is obviously needed. Also this is a very personal delving into my psyche and a life-altering experience, do I really want that hanging out in a public place? On the other hand I would love it if my experiences could be of some help to someone else. It would be nice to be able to feel like there was a point to this miserable experience. Also I’ll be able to sort my brain better if other people are around to comment and help me make connections that I’m missing. And there is also that whole avoidance thing. I’ve begun a couple of times to write about radiation, but without someone else involved I get about a half page done and quit. Livejournal is more like telling other people than like talking to myself.
So I’m going to take a middle approach. Everyone on my friend’s list will be able to read these entries because I already trust all of you to be kind and considerate. If any of you know someone who might be helped by anything I share, feel free to pass it on, or put them in touch with me, but do not post it in a public place. I may in the future decide to make all of this public information, but I’m not ready to do that yet. If you have thoughts for or against making this public, I’d be interested in hearing them, but I don’t promise to follow your advice. There will be more than one entry on this as I refine my thinking and sort my thoughts. I’m not sure how many entries this will come to, hopefully not too many. I don’t want anyone to get bored and I’d like to sort quickly. Of course that desire to “sort quickly” is a reflection of my desire to be done with it. Sigh. I definitely need to unpack this box.
I can’t do justice to your post right now, since I’m heading out the door in about 30 minutes. You’re right on the nail’s head with saying powerlessness/helplessness is a big factor in PTSD. It’s one of the things that interferes with breaking the continual-replay cycle.
Here’s a snap untrained off-the-cuff for “what happened last year”: I suspect that you were still in full “adjusting to the new financial situation” mode. At this time last year, Howard was only a few months out of Novell and your entire household was in the throes of trying to make (and stick with!) the lifestyle changes required. Massive uncertainity everywhere you looked? That was more than enough to keep your brain and hands occupied! You didn’t have time or brainpower to spare for the gray-day tumor-blues.
This year, things are smoother. You’ve trimmed and adjusted and most importantly, the household has successfully transitioned into being happy with the new frugal lifestyle – that’s a huge burden taken from your mind. You know you can do this living-without-Novell-income, and be HAPPY without the nice things that income provided. So, this year, there’s less on your mind to distract you from the PTSD. Pop psychology, eh?
I have several friends dealing with Katrina-related PTSD; they’re the first responders who went in and saw the scenes and smells and such first-hand, and they’re having problems. My position was back-office logistical support, so I was never “on the ground” in the thick of things and dealt with only the second-hand descriptions which were bad enough – shoulder-to-cry-on. My Katrina-related PTSD was fairly minor, and so far seems to have been successfully dealt with by reminding myself of what we DID achieve and do – BUT, I quickly run out of fingers and toes counting the times we got water and medical supplies and other needed items to places where they made a real difference in alleviating the suffering. That helped me a great deal. It’s DONE. We DID SOMETHING ABOUT IT. We couldn’t stop the storm, the drownings, the shootings, or make everything perfect and help everyone, but we did SOMETHING that MADE A DIFFERENCE. And we’ve made plans to do it even better if this happens again.
The “we” part has helped, too. I’m a loner by nature, but it helped the healing to know that I wasn’t alone in dealing with it. There were other people out there, including total strangers, who felt the same way I did, who experienced what I had, who were there for me when I needed them, and let me cry on their shoulder and rail into their ears, and together we made a difference for ourselves and others. That’s a really powerful feeling. It’s one of the reasons group therapy with the guidance of a professional is such a help for some people.
So I use “I” sometimes for reminding myself *I* do have the power to do something about things … and “WE” for reminding myself I’m not *alone* in all of this.
I’ll try to write up more later when things slow down this weekend. Family members in Alaska have gone on at great length about Dec/Jan/Feb and SAD – Seasonal Affective Disorder. With so many acquaintances dealing with Katrina-PTSD, I’ve heard several times that that even mild SAD can contribute to the PTSD, it makes it harder to break.
Some off-the-cuff suggestions – surround yourself with things that make you happy, that trigger good memories and relive good times. Remind yourself of past successes, both with the tumor and others.
Also, you love fresh flowers and crocuses, signs of renewal and spring and joy after the gray. Can you get a pot of them for indoors, a table or windowsill, so that when you look out you’re seeing this lovely spot of color in grey?
Or perhaps in your garage sale and thrift store wanderings you’ve run across a picture that makes you smile and feel warm inside? If there’s a picture of crocuses in bloom that makes you smile, consider spending $5 to have it on your wall and look at it instead of spending money on a prescription to treat the mood. I’m not saying go whole-hog on buying stuff, not that you would anyhow — but look for the little things that pull your mind off it.
(going to post in 2 parts, apparently it was too long!)
Another thought – consider joining a cancer survivor’s group of some type, or talking with a professional about the feelings. Given how your religion permeates your life, thoughts, and soul, if you can find a cancer survivor’s group within the Church, that’d be a great place to check out, I suspect. Shared experiences magnified by shared faith are very powerful healing.
It’s not a weakness to go looking for someone to talk to or help. Several of the medical professionals I know who are dealing with Katrina PTSD are outright geniuses, people who’ve managed to harness incredible intelligence with an amazing depth of compassion … and yet they, too, aren’t islands … they feel frustrated at not being able to deal with it themselves even while at the same time they’re objectively saying “sometimes you need a third party”. So now they have support in the form of a network of other people who were also first responders, who saw the same scenes and dealt with the same horrors and know how they feel without needing to explain.
*HUGS* I got to scram. More later. It’s good to see that you are not neglecting YOUR needs. BIG HUGS.
You’ve got your hands full, kiddo.
“Unpacking” is a lot of work. Then there’s still the “laundry”.
I’ll be reading with interest. And, you have a lot of friends who will be glad to help out with the “heavy lifting”.
Thank you for doing this. It may give me hints on how not to do the same thing to myself. (:
Just so you know, denial and repression are invaluable psychological tools even though they get a bad reputation. For the first year or two I really NEEDED to box it all up and move on. Now I’m ready to open the box and see what is there.
I think you’re exactly right about “what happened last year.” Howard said the same thing to me in a conversation last night. Two unrelated witnesses make for a pretty good case.
Of course since last year I told myself I was finally done, facing the blues again this year was hard to swallow. I have to confess that I’m hoping this “unpacking” will work like an exorcism and future years will go better. Or at least not blindside me.
You’re right, fresh flowers in the house would definitely help. I may go dig up a few of my bulbs and bring them in… if I can remember where they are.
I’ve always felt that a cancer survivor’s group wouldn’t be a good fit for me because I didn’t have cancer. The tumor grew back aggresively, but it was benign (not going to metastize and colonize other parts of my body.) I can picture my self sitting in group therapy with all these people who have faced death and beat it, then there I would be. Or worse would be sitting there completely whole with people who may yet die. My choices were between deformity and rounds of surgery or radiation, not between slow death or radiation.
Besides, all evidence sugguests that I’ve formed a pretty good support group right here.
I’m glad to hear from someone who has dealt/is dealing with PTSD that my analysis isn’t too far off base. I’ll be looking forward to more input from you.
I’m hoping that there’s some stuff that can be pitched without having to launder it. 😉
Thanks for being here.
It’s pretty clear that I needed at least the last year, this is true. (: I don’t know if I need longer than that, or not. (:
I know that Ross and I have suffered PTSD from our missions. They were really hard missions and really affected us. Ross took a Japanese class in college after his mission and was practically paralyzed every time he had to talk to the Japanese man who was the professor. I couldn’t open my scriptures for a year or more after my mission because they smelled like Japan. It took us YEARS before we were able to invite the missionaries over for dinner.
Also, I went to a Chronic Fatigue Support group once. Everyone there was WAY worse off than I was…. and so I couldn’t face going back there again. I know that Chronic Fatigue isn’t about cancer or death, but, I could understand not wanting to go to a survivor’s group if you were better off than the others.
This is going to sound WAY HORRIBLE, I’ve sometimes wished that I had cancer or some other really recognized illness/disease that is treatable instead of Chronic Fatigue. You went through horrible horrible things, but, you have been able to resume your life. When you say “Cancer” you get sympathy and support. When you say “Chronic Fatigue” then people just tell you that you need to exercise, because “exercise makes you feel better and gives you energy”! No one understands or sympathizes or supports.
oops,sorry Sandra, I guess that this is what I need to write in my own LJ.
I guess I have my own box…