Michele Rosenthal's Blog

 

 

One of my favorite books that I’ve ever read about PTSD recovery Dr. Glenn Schiraldi’s, The Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder Sourcebook. To call this a “sourcebook” is an understatement.

Whether you’re just beginning to learn about symptoms of posttraumatic stress or wanting to develop a deeper understanding of a single topic in the PTSD and trauma mix this book is a fantastic guide — which is why I’m so excited today to post an excerpt from the newly expanded version….

Excerpt from The Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder Sourcebook, Revised & Expanded

By Dr. Glenn Schiraldi

  Resolving Guilt

Guilt is an unpleasant feeling. In guilt we feel responsible for what happened. Our conclusion is that our role in the event resulted in the negative outcome. Guilt is not a useless emotion. Guilt affirms morality. We would be concerned, for example, about a drunk driver who felt no remorse for injuring someone. We would hesitate to form a relationship or enter into business with someone who had no conscience.

Guilt is a motivator for change. If we hurt someone we care about, guilt helps us to improve our behavior. Guilt is an ally when it leads directly to a satisfactory resolution. It can help us see clearly what happened so that we can make needed adjustments and then put the guilt to rest. Unresolved guilt keeps memories emotionally charged and in active memory.

To integrate memories, we must recall the memory fragments in sufficient detail to put them back together again, and then emotionally defuse the whole memory so that it can be stored in long-term memory. To begin this process, let’s begin by considering how we might be experiencing guilt.

What we do, think, or feel. Examples are:

Drinking too much
Feeling afraid
Going along with the demands of the perpetrator (rapist, terrorist, batterer, abusive parent, robber)
Going along with the immoral behaviors of others (e.g., leaders or friends)
Feeling relief for surviving when others did not
Having PTSD when others “had it much worse”
Causing the offender to commit the crime (e.g., by making oneself attractive, wanting attention)
Saving myself but not others; abandoning others
Killing (as in combat or police work), which violates cherished values
Errors in judgment (e.g., permitting a teenager to travel with an irresponsible driver)
Identifying with the victimizer (seeing good points, trying to win favor or privileges, becoming a participant in the offense)
Wanting to die and be released from pain
Living a life that we think is so imperfect as to warrant traumatic events
Feeling ambivalent about those who died
Carelessness; thoughtlessness
An innocent mistake or accident
Hating the perpetrator; wanting to harm him
Enjoying aspects of sexual abuse
Acting unkindly to someone who was later injured or killed
Trusting someone’s judgment or decisions, which later resulted in harm to people
Using or exploiting others sexually to feel better after the trauma

What we fail to do, think, or feel. Examples include:

Failing to save or protect others (parent doesn’t stop kidnapping or rape, firefighter does not save burn victims)
Failing to take suitable precautions
Freezing and doing nothing; didn’t fight harder
Failing to leave a relationship with a batterer who severely injures a child
Failing to stop chronic abuse
Wishing that you could have done more
Failing to live up to your ideal or normal expectations
Letting others down
Failing to control symptoms or recover
Failing to say “I love you” or tell the deceased how much you valued them
Not having a proper way to say good-bye to someone who has died
Not pressing charges or reporting a crime to the police
Not feeling sympathetic to others’ suffering
Unreasonable accusations that we internalize (“I feel guilty, so I must be.”)
Police don’t believe your story and imply you are making it up or asked for it
The lawyer defending the perpetrator attacks your character
People think that the crime against you was your fault

The successful resolution of guilt follows a course similar to other intense feelings common to PTSD:

Denial. Because guilt is so uncomfortable, we may deny responsibility at first. We may be shocked and numb.
In time, we accurately assess the harm done and legitimately assess our responsibility. We learn our lessons and neutralize emotions by clarifying faulty thinking.
Here we express appropriate sorrow for the hurt we have caused and make amends as appropriate. Guilt and self-punishment are released. The focus transitions to constructive change and growth. We again look ahead, concentrating on elevating humanity—self and others.

We can’t process what is not adequately retrieved from memory. If we avoid thinking about the event, then memory fragments will intrude, but not sufficiently for processing. Unresolved guilt continues to be replayed like a broken record. In attempts to kill the pain, we numb our conscience and sensitivity to the pain of others while becoming unable to emotionally connect with them.

Many inaccuracies can enter our memories during the stress of a traumatic focused on survival that we do not see the whole picture. We may assume an exaggerated sense of responsibility and underappreciate mitigating circumstances. These views are never effectively challenged as one tries to “just forget the past and move on.”

Without complete processing, many other unkind ideas remain unchallenged. Shame often rides in on guilt’s coattails. Shame goes one step further than guilt, saying, “Not only did I do something bad, but I am bad to the core.” Shame is frequently a pattern learned in childhood. Perhaps the survivor felt

worthless when she was abandoned, or was constantly given messages of badness. The child does not think to question these messages, and so remains vulnerable when a traumatic event later occurs. A variety of other unkind ideas can be learned and connected to the trauma. If they remain unchallenged, they retain their ability to disturb the survivor. The following list is a sampling of distortions and core beliefs that are often associated with guilt.

I am either all responsible or not at all. I cannot be partly at fault.
I feel so badly that I must be completely responsible.
I don’t deserve to live or to live happily because of my behavior.
I should have done better.
The more I punish myself, the more I show I care.
The more I suffer and punish myself, the more I will ease another’s suffering.
The more I suffer, the less likely I will be to repeat the mistake.
If I give up guilt, I will be disloyal to my values, God, or those who have suffered.
If I suffer enough, I will somehow restore fairness and justice.
I should be able to fix all problems, right all wrongs, save all who are in trouble, and vanquish all evil.
I shouldn’t have been afraid.
I am somehow responsible—even totally responsible—for a crime committed against me.
There is absolutely nothing I can do to improve upon the past.
My character is flawed and unchangeable. (In truth, everyone’s character is flawed, but not unchangeable.)
I should have acted in a way that only came to me later (hindsight bias).

How Is Guilt Resolved?

In order to begin the processing of the guilt aspects of your traumatic memory, please respond to the following questions. This is now just a fact-gathering exercise.

Think of yourself as a reporter researching a story. I suggest writing the answers because writing tends to make the processing slower and more deliberate.  You might prefer to speak your responses to your therapist.

What happened? (Describe the event. List all the facts. What did I do that was good and bad? What did I fail to do that was good and bad?)
Why did the event happen? (Why did it happen to me? Was it a random act of nature or of God? Was it something about me?)
Why did I act the way I did during the event?
Why have I acted the way I have since that time? (How and why have I changed as a result of the event for good and bad?)
If something like this were to happen again, what would I do differently to cope and survive? (What strengths and knowledge would lead to a more optimistic outcome?)

As survivors we always have to wrangle our need to certainty, the fear that comes when we don’t have it and what to do when doubt becomes our most dominant perspective. I’m reading a terrific book that addresses these things. Today, I’m sharing an excerpt with you…

An Excerpt from Seeking Jordan by Matthew McKay, PhD

The sound of truth, like some harmony that only the wise can hear, rings out in the spiritual salons and in the clerics’ quarters; it is heard from the high pulpits and after eating peyote.

But the sound of truth — the words and rhythms — is just a seduction. The emotion of certainty is just an emotion — no more true or false than any other. The mind says yes because the mind fears what it can’t predict or explain.

The mind seeks the exquisite relief of order and linearity. It seeks the Great One who can finally explain our pain, our waiting in the dark. The mind is always ready to say yes because it is wired into us, into our hunger to make sense of this place.

The idea of truth deceives us. The light holds a million versions of the truth — no one of them complete or whole. Each is the partial wisdom of one moment, looking across one vista. Each is a moment of great vision and a lie, because certainty seduces, and in that certainty every other vantage place is lost.

We seek certainty because it is the antidote to fear. We seek certainty because it’s the one thing impossible to find here.

But certainty is more dangerous than doubt. From conviction come razor-edged rules. Beliefs born of certainty harden and become swords of emotional violence. They cut and wound. They kill love because love — above all — accepts. It softens around each necessary flaw.

Certainty divides the world into what is true and false, rejected and embraced. It is the defense of the righteous, the self-willed. It is what war — in every form — is made of.

So this is certain: there is no certain truth here. And the certainty we think we find is often damaging; it is never the last word. It is never complete.

While doubt is painful, it is not a curse. Jordan has told me that doubt and uncertainty are necessary to our development as souls. They create a rocky field where things grow that can be found in no other place.

***

Sitting at my childhood desk once again, I meditate as I prepare to speak with Jordan. Behind the glass mask, a candle emits blue light. Outside, a susurrant breath of wind pushes through the redwoods. Finally, from some internal stillness, I ask Jordan why doubt and uncertainly are a necessary part of our life here. His answer comes in just a moment. Jordan explains:

Certainty is not a healthy state for souls — incarnate or discarnate. There is an immense amount we don’t know. All learning must take place through the lens of doubt, which is why each thing we learn should be held as a mere hypothesis.
Doubt lies at the root of hope, and it is the experience of hope that makes seeking possible, that drives the quest for new knowledge and wisdom. So doubt motivates learning, the quest to enter what is unknown, the determination to turn darkness into light.
The doubt of incarnates, isolated as we are from our soul groups and guides, is especially painful. Nothing is certain; nothing is verifiable. We can’t even know with certainty whether the physical world is an illusion of consciousness. And while I can tell you that the physical universe exists in space and time, my words can’t prove that you aren’t dreaming. Where can we go for the truth? There is no one to ask except gurus, who are often lost themselves and may be making things up.
Here’s something important: the doubt of incarnates is crucial to the growth of all consciousness. That’s because seeking, in an environment where nothing can be proved or verified, creates openness to all the infinite possibilities. We are unencumbered by any absolute knowledge, so we can soar to imagine endless possibilities.
Paradoxically, discarnates are limited by vast, seemingly incontrovertible knowledge, which makes it more difficult for them to imagine the dark, unseen corners of the universe. We come to Earth (and other worlds) to know nothing and to imagine everything. With no certainty, with only intuition and the scientific method to guide us, we can reach past the observable bones of the universe to think what has never yet been thought and to ask what has never yet been a question. That is the gift of living in this uncertain place.
We have used our experience of not knowing to seek wisdom since souls began inhabiting bodies. We have sought truth through myths and allegories, through epic stories passed down from our elders, through beauty, and through endless observations of what works and what doesn’t. We have touched truth partially; we have at times sensed something enormous, just beyond the edges of thought. We have given all that we sensed and saw and imagined to collective consciousness — without any certainty of what was true or false.
That is what we do here.
# # #

Matthew McKay, PhD, is the author of Seeking Jordan and numerous other books. He is a clinical psychologist, professor at the Wright Institute in Berkeley, CA, and founder and publisher at New Harbinger Publications. Visit him online at http://www.SeekingJordan.com.

Excerpted from Seeking Jordan: How I Learned the Truth about Death and the Invisible Universe. Copyright © 2016 by Matthew McKay, PhD. Reprinted with permission from New World Library. www.newworldlibrary.com

In PTSD recovery we’re always looking for ways to move forward, change our behavior and find new approaches to viewing the world, ourselves and others so that trauma triggers subside and we can rebuild our safe-feeling interaction with life. Traditional ideas, suggestions and philosophies are easy to find and there’s a lot of good material about how to create personal change. Once I’ve read a lot in that category, however, I always like to see what offerings resonate with me from more alternative sources.

Recently I had the opportunity to read, Don’t Be A Jerk, by Brad Warner. A Soto Zen priest Warner’s popular books offer a clear, simple and streamlined approach to applying Zen principles in today’s world. In Don’t Be A Jerk he takes an 800-year-old Zen Buddhism classic and reframes it to fit today’s language and application. Particularly, in this book Warner deconstructs a classic text by the Japanese Monk, Eihei Dogen.

Why do I think this can be relevant to PTSD recovery? Because after trauma we are challenge to reassess, discover, explore and create our own personal philosophies of how to see, be and live in the world now that trauma has so irrevocably changed us. Everything we knew, thought we knew or would/could have learned is not filtered through the trauma lens. Getting back to the basics of choosing who we are and how we respond to the world is critical. Don’t Be A Jerk offers ideas for this through the filter of a Zen philosophy. In the words of Warner, the philosophy of Dogen, “His philsophy offers us a way out of our continuing battles between the idealistic and the materialistic view. He offers us a Middle Way.”

Finding the Middle Way in so many areas helps bring us back to a place of neutral after trauma. Here’s a taste of Warner’s book….

 

Don’t Be a Jerk
An Excerpt from Brad Warner

It used to be that nobody outside the worlds of stuffy academics and nerdy Zen studies knew who Do-gen was. And while this thirteenth-century Japanese Zen master and writer is still not one of the best-known philosophers on the planet, he’s well-known enough to have a character on the popular American TV series Lost named after him and to get referenced regularly in books and discussions of the world’s most important philosophical thinkers.

Unfortunately, in spite of all this, Do-gen still tends to be presented either as an inscrutable Oriental speaking in riddles and rhymes or as an insufferable intellectual making clever allusions to books you’re too dumb to have heard of. Nobody wants to read a guy like that.

You could argue that Do-gen really is these things. Sometimes. But he’s a lot more than that. When you work with him for a while, you start to see that he’s actually a pretty straightforward, no-nonsense guy. It’s hard to see that, though, because his world and ours are so very different.

A few months ago, my friend Whitney and I were at Atomic City Comics in Philadelphia. There I found The War That Time Forgot, a collection of DC comics from the fifties about American soldiers who battle living dinosaurs on a tropical island during World War II, and Whitney found a book called God Is Disappointed in You, by Mark Russell. The latter was far more influential in the formation of this book.

The publishers of that book, Top Shelf Publications, describe God Is Disappointed in You as being “for people who would like to read the Bible…if it would just cut to the chase.” In this book, Russell has summarized the entire Christian Bible in his own words, skipping over repetitive passages and generally making each book far more concise and straightforward than any existing translation. He livens up his prose with a funny, irreverent attitude that is nonetheless respectful to its source material. If you want to know what’s in the Bible but can’t deal with actually reading the whole darned thing, it’s a very good way to begin.

After she’d been reading God Is Disappointed in You for a while, Whitney showed it to me and suggested I try to do the same thing with Sh?b?genz?: The Treasury of the True Dharma Eye. This eight-hundred-year-old classic, written by the Japanese monk Eihei Do-gen, expounds on and explains the philosophical basis for one of the largest and most influential sects of Zen Buddhism. It’s one of the great classics of philosophical literature, revered by people all over the world. However, like many revered philosophical classics, it’s rarely read, even by those who claim to love it.

I immediately thought it was a cool idea to try to do this with Sh?b?genz?, but I didn’t know if it would work. I’ve studied Sh?b?genz? for around thirty years, much of that time under the tutelage of Gudo Wafu Nishijima. Nishijima Roshi was my ordaining teacher, and he, along with his student Chodo Mike Cross, produced a highly respected English translation that was for many years the only full English translation available. I had already written one book about Sh?b?genz?, called Sit Down and Shut Up (New World Library, 2007), and had referenced Sh?b?genz? extensively in all five of my other books about Zen practice.

My attitude toward Sh?b?genz? is somewhat like Mark Russell’s attitude toward the Bible. I deeply respect the book and its author, Do-gen. But I don’t look at it the way a religious person regards a holy book. Zen Buddhism is not a religion, however much it sometimes looks like one. There are no holy books in Zen, especially the kind of Zen that Do-gen taught. In Do-gen’s view everything is sacred, and to single out one specific thing, like a book or a city or a person, as being more sacred than anything else is a huge mistake. So the idea of rewriting Do-gen’s masterwork didn’t feel at all blasphemous or heretical to me.

But Sh?b?genz? presents a whole set of challenges Russell didn’t face with the Bible. The biggest one is that the Bible is mainly a collection of narrative stories. What Russell did, for the most part, was to summarize those stories while skipping over much of the philosophizing that occurs within them. Sh?b?genz?, on the other hand, has just a few narrative storytelling sections, and these are usually very short. It’s mostly philosophy. This meant that I’d have to deal extensively with the kind of material Russell generally skipped over.

Still, it was such an interesting idea that I figured I’d give it a try. My idea was to present the reader with everything important in Sh?b?genz?. I didn’t summarize every single line. But I have tried to give a sense of every paragraph of the book without leaving anything significant out. While I’d caution you not to quote this book and attribute it to Do-gen, I have tried to produce a book wherein you could conceivably do so without too much fear of being told by someone, “That’s not really what Do-gen said!” Obviously, if a line mentions Twinkies or zombies or beer, you’ll know I’ve done a bit of liberal paraphrasing. I have noted these instances, though, so that shouldn’t be too much of a problem.

# # #

Brad Warner is the author of Don’t Be a Jerk and numerous other titles including Sit Down & Shut Up, Hardcore Zen, and Zen Wrapped in Karma Dipped in Chocolate. A Soto Zen priest, he is a punk bassist, filmmaker, Japanese-monster-movie marketer, and popular blogger based in Los Angeles. Visit him online at www.hardcorezen.info.

 

 

Excerpted from Don’t Be a Jerk ©2016 by Brad Warner.  Published with permission of New World Library. http://www.newworldlibrary.com

As we approach a new year I’m thinking about how often we speak about our trauma itself — and whether or not we need to. I meet many survivors who don’t want to reveal the details of their trauma at all. In my clients, all of whom are survivors, most don’t want to speak about their traumatic experience in detail. They’re much more comfortable speaking about their post-trauma symptoms.

And yet, when I went into therapy that’s all we did; I didn’t feel like I had a choice. My therapist’s plan was to talk and talk and talk about what I had survived, how I felt about it, why I felt that way, and … and …. and…. Eight years later I was really sick of talking about it and not any freer from it.

If I go back even further, I remember myself very well in the days before I learned to speak about what had happened to me. I was terrified putting language to it would make it loom too large and overwhelming in my mind. I was already on the brink of insanity and I was afraid going back and describing the past would push me over the edge.

I find out now, all these years later, this sort of aversion to telling our stories is completely normal! Even this morning I went to buy dog food and the woman who owns the store confessed she’s now on medication for depression, OCD and anxiety in order to manage her post trauma symptoms that developed after surviving a rare brain tumor. “I don’t want to go to therapy,” she said. “I don’t want to have to go back to all of those feelings and talk about it.”

The good news is: We don’t have to speak to heal.

Sure, there are benefits to getting it all down and out in words, but the truth is it isn’t necessary in order for healing to take place. Last week I completed working with a survivor of sexual assault; in our 6 sessions together she never once told me what kind of assault she survived. And yet, she healed because there are techniques we can use that don’t require an enormous dissertation about the past.

I’m not alone in thinking we don’t have to force people to detail events. A while ago I met a trauma blogger I really enjoy reading. Her name is Teresa: She’s a trauma therapist and yoga instructor. She has a deep belief in the power of using the body during healing. She works with many people struggling with post trauma symptoms and has noticed that some only tell the story AFTER they have healed.

We have so many programmed beliefs about how healing is supposed to go. We must forgive first. We must talk first. We must (fill in the blank).

The truth: Healing doesn’t have a set program.

Sometimes, forgiveness comes after healing, if at all. Sometimes we talk in the end, as you’ll see next week in a special ‘Survivors Speak’ post written by my client who, now healed of post trauma symptoms, wants to reach out to other survivors.

It’s very important in healing to trust your own instincts, find your own path and do what feels right for you. When eight years of therapy didn’t heal me I struck out to find healing on my own without professional help. It just felt like the right thing to do. I’m sure my family didn’t think that was a good idea. But look where it lead.: I found wellness my own way.

There are many paths to finding freedom. In the upcoming year I hope you find yours.

(Photo: Freek van den Bergh)

I love sharing resources with you — this one comes from a survivor who emailed me privately about success with EFT…. Maybe an idea to get you going for the new year??

This is a technique I was taught few weeks ago to release unwanted thoughts,  feelings, and traumatic memories.

I really like it because it has been very effective for me.  Also, you do not need to read a book or find a practitioner.  You just have to follow a few of the Youtube videos to learn how to do it.

The founder of Faster EFT, Robert Smith, will teach you the steps in the free demo’s.  I just completed his free 7 day email course.  You can sign up here if you are interested:

http://www.fastereft.com/

I am not sure exactly how it works but it essentially teaches the mind to take the charge off of bad things by reprogramming the subconscious.   The best part is you do not have to know why you feel bad, you just have to bring up the emotion, and then follow the quick tapping method to let it go of it.  I was very skeptical at first, but have seen great results !  I hope it can help someone else.

PTSD fibromyalgia testimonial (really great !):

Faster EFT demo:

Getting through the holidays can be super-difficult. It’s a time when everyone expects you to be one way (cheerful, social, agreeable) when you’re still feeling the way you’ve felt all year (depressed, isolated, frustrated).

How to cope with PTSD symptoms and not break your wallet is always a challenge, and even more so when you have a list of presents to purchase and people expecting you to be someone you’re not.

With all the stress that builds up from now until December 31st how are you supposed to navigate these weeks without an embarrassing meltdown or earth-shattering blow up?

Check out these posts for some good how-to and you-can-do-this guidance. In all there are over 21 practical, hands-on suggestions offered by both professionals and survivors:

4 Ways to Reduce PTSD Stress During the Holidays
PTSD Symptoms & The Holidays: 7 Tips for how to cope
PTSD & Holiday Stress: How To Avoid A Meltdown
PTSD & Holiday Stress: Top 5 Tips for Successful Coping

 

I receive so many emails from survivors sharing their stories of healing with me. This one came in from a man I’ve known for quite some time.

I’ve watched him progress from struggling without a sense of control to this beautiful illustration of what it means to start making choices and taking actions that change who you are, how you live and the world that you experience.

He’s given me full permission to share this with you. He writes….

 

I wanted to share a couple of  things that I started to use:

I don’t use the words “panic attack”, instead “grieving emotions”.

I also define the emotions as safe, healthy, healing emotions.’

I had a fear that too much would come out at one time, and I wouldn’t be able to shut off the “flood gates”. I have replaced that with safe, healthy, healing “gates”.

Instead of “flashback” I replaced that with safe, healthy, healing, peaceful “images”.

Instead of saying “it wasn’t my fault, or “I have nothing to be guilty about”, I say “I am innocent”.

 

What changes have you made that have helped you feel better? Share your ideas in the comments.

A long time ago I wrote about my own personal PTSD recovery anthem. It was the song, voice and lyrics that got me through many a bad day. Recently, in Heal Your PTSD, my latest book of over 200 healing strategies for symptoms of posttraumatic stress disorder, I also wrote about healing anthems:

Bringing yourself to a place of peaceful healing means repairing the bridges that were blown up in yourself and your world when trauma occurred.

In his song “In Repair,” John Mayer croons, “So much to do to set my heart right. . . . ” (If you don’t know that song, go listen to it or watch the video; it’s a great recovery anthem.) This sentiment so aptly describes where a great deal of the pain comes from in the PTSD experience.

In the post-trauma identity crisis that accompanies PTSD, you question how to define yourself, wonder what’s true and what’s false, and lack a sense of what’s right for you—these are heart and/or soul wounds. One way to answer the questions and refill that sense of rightfulness is to engage in repair of the things that feel most devastated.

Right after that passage I invite readers to share their healing anthems with me. Last week I received this fantastic suggestion and, of course, wanted to share it with you!

Sarah Maclachlan’s “In Your Shoes”….

[What’s your healing anthem? Share it with me in the comments, or tweet me @ChangeYouChoose, #healmyptsd]

This post was contributed by Gloria Thiessen, M.A., RCC, CYT.

Restorative Style Yoga for the Emotionally Exhausted PTSD Trauma Survivor

The body’s need to rest and rejuvenate its vital energies is too often forgotten.  In our active, stress filled world, we can push ourselves to ‘go-go-go’ or ‘get it done’.  We can push ourselves trying to run from painful emotions.  In so doing we can push ourselves well beyond that place inside where we instinctively know how far is too far:  our edge.  It exhausts us to the point where it feels as if we can’t go on.  This can be especially true for the trauma survivor.

Our understanding of where our edge even is can become blurred.  We can’t sense into it anymore because we’ve lost touch with our body and its inherent intelligence.  We can’t honor what we’re not aware of, so we keep pushing. But pushing ourselves past our edge is just part of the picture for the trauma survivor.  At some point the circle of life we live in stops being a circle.  It goes all wonky.

During the day our energies too often travel in one direction – outward -without enough fresh energy generated from the inside out to sufficiently recharge and rebalance the circle. What this means is the body has no space to rest, be at ease with itself and in a position to withdraw its senses from the external environment.  One of the societal myths we live with is being productive means being visibly active. But being productive can also mean being quiet and still; nurturing and soothing.  Like giving the body a large dose of the kind of love that allows us to restore our vital energies, be re-born to the day, but now drawing from a full reservoir of energy rather than a depleted one.

How do we get to this quiet state of dynamic renewal?

One way is through a restorative style of hatha Yoga.  Where the body is held in a posture in a supported way so it can do what it’s designed to do, rest and rejuvenate itself from the inside out. Take the Supported Child’s Pose, for example.  It quiets the mind and restores depleted energy.  It feels so good to do too.  Try it and see.

What you’ll need is a mat and bolster if you have them, as well as a blanket.  If you don’t have a mat or bolster, that’s okay too.  A blanket placed on the floor in place of a mat, and a blanket or two rolled up into a 12” in diameter sized sausage ** will work just fine.  Here’s what to do next:

*Place the bolster or rolled up blanket(s) lengthwise in the center of the mat or blanket.

*Straddle the bolster at one end, with your belly facing the top of the bolster.

*Carefully come forward and lie down onto the bolster, with the belly resting against it, paying attention to creating comfort for the body in this position.  One facial cheek comes down to rest against the bolster.  The hands come to rest alongside the shoulders or ears.  The eyes can be closed or open, it’s your choice.

*Rest here for up to 10 minutes doing nothing in particular (5 minutes with each facial cheek against the bolster), allowing the breath to rise and fall in the body in its own natural way as you hold this soothing position.

The Supported Child’s Pose zeros in on the parasympathetic nervous system and stimulates the experience of relaxation.  It’s particularly good for the trauma survivor whose nervous system can be revving on high a lot of the time.  It can feel so good to the body to experience this kind of effortless relief from the busyness of life.

Even when we’re feeling completely spent, there is hope.  We can balance our energy output by honoring the circle of life and taking the time to rest deeply with a restorative style of Yoga.  The good vibes that come are like a forgotten treasure we re-discover when we take the time to rest and rejuvenate from the inside out.

** Place a blanket on the floor.  Fold it in half, widthwise.  From the narrower edge, roll the folded blanket into the shape of a sausage.  For maximum comfort, the rolled blanket should be around 12” in diameter.  If needed, a second blanket can be added on top of the first, to create a thicker sausage shaped bolster.

 

Gloria Thiessen, M.A., RCC, CYT, is a body-centered trauma therapist and Yoga teacher in British Columbia, Canada.  Over the past 20 years she’s been a leader in the integration of Yoga theory and practice in conventional talk therapy.  Her work empowers stressed out women to feel at home in their bodies and at peace with themselves.  She’s the author of Say Good-bye to the Pain Forever:  10 Secrets to Peace You Can Feel.  For your complimentary copy, visit http://studiopeace.ca/say-good-bye/.

This post was contributed by a trauma survivor.

The roar of motorcycles fills the air.  My legs are pumping, chest is burning, long grass whooshes past my bare feet.  The hills are so tall, surely I can hide, but no, they keep finding me.  The game is cat and mouse and the mouse is losing.  I slip, feet tangling, I’m down, GET UP!

Suddenly, I’m lying in bed and my dorm room is full of people.  WHAT?  I sit up hurriedly, while my resident advisor asks if I’m okay.  She explains that I just screamed and she keyed into my room with a posse to defend me.  “It was just a nightmare,” I say.  Within a year, I’m asked to find a solution or leave student housing because my roommate is also terrified…of me.

In the nearly three decades since that day, I’ve had countless night terrors, three sleep studies, and a diagnosis of PTSD.  I’ve bloodied my palms and knees fleeing my bed and once endured two months of voice rest after damaging my vocal cords.

I consulted a sleep specialist who prescribed medication that reduced my night terrors, but with horrible side effects.  He also advised me to adjust my diet, practice good sleep hygiene, and actively reduce stress in my life.  Over the course of years, these efforts reduced the frequency and severity of my night terrors from twice a week to once a month.

I also met and married Adam, who is an engineer, a problem-solver, and an inventor.  He quickly discovered that touch or noise won’t rouse me from a night terror.  Instead I integrate those sensations into the night terror, making a bad situation worse.  Adam learned that light is the quickest way to end an episode, but he sleeps peacefully and awakens slowly, struggling to find the lightswitch while I’m screaming.  For both our sakes, Adam was motivated to make light happen auto-magically.

Adam attended my sleep studies, asked questions, and inspected equipment. He duplicated some of the equipment and I hid it, because electrodes may be confusing but everybody knows why a video camera is positioned above a bed!  Adam quickly realized that heart rate monitoring was the key because my heartbeat spiked dramatically before every night terror.  Unfortunately, a solution wasn’t practical because who can sleep wired to electrodes every night?

Time passed and technology progressed.  Wireless heart monitors were developed.  And SafeWake was born.  It’s a light that turns on when my heart rate reaches a certain level.  Here’s how it works:

Each night, I don the heart rate monitor, which has a soft wrist strap and velcro closure.  I press the button on its face until a green light appears against my skin.  I check the amber light on the SafeWake lamp, indicating lamp and monitor are paired.

Then I struggle with insomnia because it’s what I do.  When insomnia grows boring I visit the bathroom.  When I return to the bedroom, the devices pair without any help from me thankfully.  Eventually I sleep.