What is
Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder?
Post-Traumatic
Stress Disorder (PTSD) is an anxiety disorder that an individual may develop
after seeing or experiencing a dangerous event, such as physical injury or
severe mental and emotional distress. In the face of imminent danger the fear
response is triggered, alerting the body to prepare for, defend or avoid the
danger. This ‘fight-or-flight’ response
is a normal reaction that primes the body to protect itself from harm. Over
time, however, this reaction to fear is changed or damaged in sufferers of
PTSD, rendering them hypersensitive to stress and fear even when they are no
longer in danger. Given this, it comes as no surprise that those who have
experienced military combat, violent assault, natural disasters or
life-threatening events are at a higher risk in developing PTSD. Sometimes,
PTSD may develop after witnessing a friend or family member being harmed.
Individuals
suffering from PTSD are often re-experiencing symptoms that may be triggered by
words, objects or situations that remind them of the traumatic event.
Additionally, they may avoid reminders that trigger memories of the event, and can exhibit signs of hyper-arousal such as
easily being startled, feeling tense, or having difficulty sleeping. After a
traumatic event, it is quite normal for individuals to experience some of these
symptoms. What differentiates a normal response to that of a disorder is the
intensity of the response and the duration. It should be noted though that some
people may not show any symptoms for weeks or months, while others who
experience a traumatic event may not even develop the disorder. That said, a
traumatic event is generally a necessary component in the development of PTSD,
but it is not sufficient for it to develop.
My two cents
I have just
briefly described PTSD - I’ll now give you my two cents on how I managed my
PTSD.
“You can’t forget
the past, but you can change how you view it.”
For a significant
portion of my childhood, I was sexually abused by one of my older brothers.
Kept in secrecy, I thought it was a normal part of growing up. In year 5, the
concept of sexual intercourse and conduct was brought to my attention, as well
as with whom I could share this experience with. Given that I was 10 years old
at the time, you can imagine the confusion that came with this newfound
information. I was unable to process the magnitude of the situation and its
long term consequences.
It wasn’t until my early years at university that I began to come to
terms with the impact that sexual abuse had on my life. I was hypersensitive to
touch, refused physical contact such as hugs, and had high anxiety among a number of other
difficulties. What confused me most was the terminology and connotations that
came with ‘abuse’. ‘Abuse’ to me implied a sense of experienced negativity and
upon reflection of my memories, my experiences as a child were both physically
arousing and at times emotionally distressing. Not all my experiences were
traumatic and forced, some were coerced and others initiated by me.
The disparity
between my feelings and what others told me was morally wrong confused me
immensely. It was a major component that drove me to latch onto what made most
sense - blaming someone. I had little knowledge of what ‘grooming’ was, and so
placed the blame inwardly.
I was unable to
tell anyone because I feared for my life. I was unable to communicate
effectively because I had been unknowing for so long. I was unable to freely
express my thoughts because I feared rejection and a lack of support. The items
in these sentences are “I” which implies a sense of personal responsibility.
These thoughts over time became the norm, and it became how I learned to deal
with what I felt and how I was ‘supposed’ to feel according to the norms of
sexual abuse. I rationalised this blame inwardly because I felt it was my
responsibility to ensure my own safety and sexual development. Worse still, I
could have spoken out at any time, but chose not to.
This blame game led to an internal fight accompanied by self-deprecating
thoughts, immense feelings of shame since I was unable to speak out, and an
unrealistically high standard of
emotional control. A deep depression followed that severely affected my emotional stability, and ability to study and work.
Noticing my
failing grades, the academic progress committee at my University decided to
monitor me. They offered counselling sessions, consultations with doctors and psychiatrists
and a support network with specialised
services, such as the Centre Against Sexual Abuse (CASA), that I wasn’t
aware was out there. After countless counselling sessions, meditation and
prescribed medication from my doctor, I was able to get my depression under
control.
What I wanted to
highlight here is how I learned to view the traumatic event. A change in
perspective really can do wonders in coming to terms with and understanding the
emotions that came with the trauma. I put my traumatic event under a microscope
and questioned the blame I placed on myself: what if it were another child who
had gone through the same experience? How would I feel towards them? What if
they came to me, confused about how they felt? Would I deny them of support,
empathy, or understanding?
The obvious
answer is ‘hell no’. I would go to the ends of the earth to ensure their
safety, protection and happiness. But because I did not receive this kind of
support as a child, the idea was so foreign. I had to learn that what happened
to me was extremely unfortunate, but what I could do was control my reaction to
it. And I’ve chosen to react in a pro-active way by not allowing it to be the
defining factor of who I am; by raising awareness of the situation, by making
it a less ‘taboo’ topic, by making sure this doesn’t happen to those around me,
and hopefully - to all children. My experiences were traumatic, my pain is
real, but the motivation that comes from it is pure, compassionate and kind.
Understanding
myself more now, I extend the compassion I would for a child who has gone
through the same experience towards myself. I rationalize it this way because I
cannot blame children for their lack of understanding, so how can I blame
myself? They’re children - underdeveloped cognitively, emotionally, physically
and psychologically. They are unable to understand fully, sexual conduct and
the consequences of actions, making them sensitive to manipulation and
coercion. With that said, children should be protected and free to explore
their sexuality in an environment that is safe and loving. I now extend this
empathy inwardly - for if I choose to deny myself of such compassion, then I’m
indirectly denying sufferers from that same understanding and support.
I plucked up the
courage to write a letter to my parents, sent it off, and awaited their reply.
Long story short - I cried, they cried, asked me why I never told them, they
told me they always had an idea but thought I would speak up about it - and
much to my surprise, the walls that always kept my emotions in check began to
dissolve. This feeling of unexpected support and understanding was beyond
anything I could have imagined (I’m crying just writing about it now!), and the
weight that held me down was slowly lifted. I could feel happiness without it being
tainted by my past memories, I could study without having flashbacks, and I
could connect with others on a much more personal level. And the sense of
clarity that came with this acknowledgement and release of pain was more than
welcomed.
I wrote this
article to reach out to those who have suffered such traumatic events. What has
helped me immensely is speaking out about the issue of sexual abuse. The taboo
feelings that surround discussions on sexual abuse shouldn’t be there - they
should be open and free, without judgement and received with support. I once
read somewhere that when someone suffers from cancer or some other form of
potentially life threatening disease, they are a survivor - and more often than
not, are received with much compassion and viewed in a bright light. What I
wish for the future of sexual abuse survivors is that we are viewed in much the
same light - that we are survivors, that we came to terms with the abuse and
that we won’t stand for this in our lives or in those around us. For if we as
free adults are unable to speak out about it in an empathetic and open way, how
can children feel the need to do so? How can we then look to stop the cycle of
abuse? Even if you do not have the courage yet to speak out about it, speak
inwardly to yourself. Allow yourself that same kindness you would extend to
another sufferer. Allow yourself that peace.
T.L. Nguyen