Trauma Bonding - The Ties That Bind

As I mentioned in a previous post, I couldn't connect to my feelings. This past couple of weeks, however, have uncovered some intensely painful feelings. I discovered that shame has taken root in me like a hundred year old tree. It is insidious. "Shame is a sickness of the soul. It is the most poignant experience of the self by the self, whether felt as humiliation or cowardice, or in a sense of failure to cope successfully with a challenge. Shame is a wound felt from the inside, dividing us both from ourselves and from one another" (Kaufman 1996). Shame results in feelings of isolation, loneliness, depression, anxiety, self doubt, perfectionism, and hopelessness.People with post traumatic stress disorder, PTSD, don't believe they deserve to be happy, because we're bad people. Even if we are happy for a moment then it isn't going to last because eventually the other shoe will drop.... these are typical thoughts, trauma bonds, in the minds of most trauma survivors. Last post, I was fearful I wouldn't be able to connect with the feelings surrounding my trauma. This past week, I wish I hadn't.

I expressed to my therapy group that I didn't deserve to be with them, because in my opinion, they had suffered traumas much worse than mine. My childhood wasn't really that bad in comparison to what they experienced. They compassionately and adamantly kept telling me, trying to convince me that that wasn't the case. Trauma is trauma. They wanted me to see the truth, so I could move on, so I could become "unstuck" in the past, and yet the voices that told me for forty years, in order to cope, "that my life isn't so bad", my voice; and the voice that told me I wasn't worthy of compassion, understanding or having my needs met, my father's voice, and how could my father be wrong, prevailed again, and again, and again making it impossible for me to accept what they were telling me. This is one of my many trauma bonds, my unhealthy or toxic relationship with myself. Again, I am trapped in my past. I'm very depressed now. I rejected the support I was being offered, and depression is the result of not having one's needs met. I needed that support, and rejecting support is a form of self harm which is also common to PTSD survivors. Substance abuse, cutting, starving, or simply not giving yourself what you need are forms of self harm. It saddens me deeply to realize that I think so little of myself when my heart knows I'm worthy, but my mind has been poisoned to believe otherwise.Some symptoms of toxic shame as indicated in my program:

*  Believing I am a bad person.
*  Constantly belittling of one's self or others
* A compulsion to rescue hurting or needy people.
*  Excessive sensitivity and defensiveness to imagined or actual criticism or rejection
* Habitually putting one's own needs or welfare last
* Rarely buying anything nice for one's self or going on special trips
* Deflecting compliments
* Chronically giving time and energy to others and getting little or nothing in return
*  Repeatedly choosing, justifying, tolerating toxic relationships or situations.
* Not setting and enforcing holistically healthy boundaries with self and others
* Self-sabotage: setting one's self up for failure
* Choosing a direct-contact human-service profession i.e. clergy, medicine, education, law enforcement, social worker etc.

When I told my therapy group that my father had devoured my heart with his ungodly actions and hateful words, and that I was incapable of love, they again were surprised at my comment and told me I had repeatedly demonstrated I was an extremely thoughtful person always supporting others, showing compassion and kindness whenever it was needed and without hesitation, but they also observed I never do those things for myself. Instead, I beat myself up for not doing enough. I couldn't hear those words either. I wanted so badly to believe what they were telling me, to hear them, but it goes against every core belief I was ever taught which is that I'm a bad person. I broke down and cried at the realization. Shame is a major symptom of PTSD whether the trauma is related to combat, policing, or childhood abuse. We often feel "I could have done better", "if only...", "it was all my fault" when in actuallity none of that is true, if we could only objectively examine the facts... another example of our toxic relationship with ourselves, our trauma bond, we remain attached, tied to our trauma and our pain.

Attachments are a normal much needed part of our development. We can learn healthy attachment or unhealthy attachment even as adults where you may have been held captive or felt trapped for a long period of time. Some survivors are so traumatized and hurt that they feel they don't need anyone, so they isolate which leads to major depression and possibly suicide. The unhealthy attachments we learned are what we look for throughout our lives because it is familiar, thus we victimize ourselves over and over again, if we don't break that bond.

I'm terrified of making a shift in my beliefs even if those new beliefs are healthier, but that is the nature of a trauma bond. We fear the unknown, change, unpredictability, we need to feel in control, and we become very anxious if we don't feel we are in control, so we would rather stick with what is familiar, shame, unhealthy relationships, isolation, toxic work environments, playing our role as rescuer or care giver to our own detriment even though we KNOW these behaviours are unhealthy. Some of you might be saying, "come on, just make the choice to believe differently." Easier said then done. For example, suppose evidence came to light that perhaps God doesn't really exist and then asking a Christian to accept that truth.Not only is it preposterous in the Christian's mind, but the very thought of even trying to make that shift causes such suffering that it would hurt them deep within their souls.

We all wear masks. When asked "how are you?" we almost always respond "good, fine, great"... not always true, but easier than explaining how we're really feeling. The mask worn by trauma survivors isn't always easily hidden. Sometimes we just seem numb, unable to connect emotionally, or sometimes we seem angry for no reason, irritable, hot-tempered, sad,  and have no idea why. Many can't even identity their emotions, because the only one they ever feel is anger and justifiably so. Why? Because we are stuck in the past, we are stuck in the moment or time our trauma occurred. Naturally, the feeling at that time was anger and that's where we remain stuck for years in some cases, four decades in my particular case. Anxiety is another feeling we live with because we're stuck. We're in a low grade "flight or fight" response all the time.We don't know frustration, giddiness, disappointment, cheerful, joy, sorrow, aggravated, reticent, apprehension, caution, and the list goes on and on. The possible spectrum of emotions we can experience is completely unfamiliar to us, so in my treatment program, I am being taught to practice identifying my emotions, not an easy task when you've been faking it all your life.

The trauma bonds are strong, my core beliefs, my attraction to people who need help, my tendency to get involved with people or situations that hurt me. They're like a demon clutching your soul in its claws, you're too afraid to move, because you know it's going to hurt like hell if you do. However, if we are to heal, if we are to recover, if we are to become unstuck so that we can live life in the present, enjoy and be grateful for what's right in front of us without subconsciously poisoning it with our past, then we need to fight that demon and break those bonds or at least begin recognize them. Damned if you do, damned if you don't, right? Well, if I'm going to hurt anyway, then it might as well be with the hopes of living life in the present not in the tragic past.

If you feel you might have been exposed to trauma, if any of this sounds familiar to you,  there are tests on line to assist you if you might  be concerned about PTSD. Even if you don't do the tests, talk to your doctor about your symptoms and possibly your trauma. Help is available, and you deserve to be happy just as much as anyone else.

That's the view from here right now.... I'll keep you posted on the remainder of my journey. Thanks for stopping by. :)

Kaufman, Gershen. (1996) The Psychology of Shame 2nd Ed., Springer Pub. New York

Who Am I without my PTSD??

...The Million Dollar Question

The journey continues, and I've reached a pit stop the sign reads "Who Are You?", and what is your story? Well, I thought I had the answers to those questions; I'm a mother of three, I'm single, a professional, a sister, and a friend. All true, but also generic. Who is Lisa? What does she like? What does she dislike? What are her values? How does she feel about herself? What are her goals and dreams? The answer to those questions.... I haven't a clue, and the reason is that people with PTSD usually don't believe they're going to live a long life in this unsafe world, so we don't plan for the future. We have no idea how to provide for our own needs, because we don't know what they are anymore, if we ever knew at all. At some point, a trauma changed our thinking, literally rewired us to believe and act as though our needs are secondary or don't exist at all.

Trauma, I'm told in my treatment, is a wound to the soul, a betrayal, a profound and painful loss of more than just our identity, but our sense of security, belonging, ability to trust and find happiness in a world that we now or have always believed is unsafe. At the moment of trauma, all control is taken away from the victim, usually violently, along with our sense of dignity and self worth in some cases. In my case, the trauma was not an event or series of events, it was severe, repeated, and lasted 17 years. It didn't shatter my identity as is the case with trauma through acute events, it prevented me from even forming an identity. For some trauma sufferers, treatment is about trying to return to, as much as possible, who we were before the trauma occurred, before our schema of the world and our place in it was poisoned, but for people like me, it's like trying to discover who I would be if my trauma had never occurred... no small task especially with two deceased parents and being the oldest of four children, I have more memories than they do!! My identity, my role all my life, has been to take care of others. Telling you a bit more of my story will help you better understand.

Mental illness runs in my family. My father was an addict and had what I now believe was IED, intermitent explosive disorder which is described by the Mayo Clinic as "involving repeated episodes of impulsive, aggressive, violent behavior or angry verbal outbursts in which you react grossly out of proportion to the situation. Road rage, domestic abuse, throwing or breaking objects, or other temper tantrums may be signs of intermittent explosive disorder. People with intermittent explosive disorder may attack others and their possessions, causing bodily injury and property damage.....", and it is also strongly associated to substance abuse. I have very few memories of my childhood before the age of 13 and what I do remember, isn't good. My earliest memory of my father is when I was about two, still in diapers, I remember the cotton diaper feeling wet. I was standing on a chair in the kitchen, and my daddy arrived home from work. Of course, I was excited to see him screeching his name and jumping up and down arms extended to come pick me up. He closed the door and turned to me and instead of seeing the joy that most fathers would have at seeing his first born little girl at the end of the day, I saw something that I couldn't identify at that age, and it wasn't good. I was confused. His face was red, his eyes were bugging out, and he had a look like he was going to kill me. This was a look I would see often for the next 15 years. He marched toward my chair and even with what I saw on his face, I still believed he was coming to happily pick me up, but I remember being slightly afraid and still confused. When he got to my chair, he grabbed hold of the back of it, yanked it out from underneath me, and I went crashing to the floor. I don't remember anything after that.

There were many other events like that one throughout my life, filled with rage, terror, chaos, psychologically, physically, spiritually and emotionally damaging events and words. Sometimes his anger was directed toward me, but most of the time it was directed toward my mother. I have three younger siblings, so it then became my job to protect and provide for them which I did from the day my younger sister was born, I was six years old. So based on this one event, what I say next will make more sense.

I re-enacted over and over again the role of care-giver all my life; with my siblings, with my chosen vocation, with my partner of 14 years, and with my friends, my children even as teenagers, always trying do as much as possible for others while doing nothing for myself. I believed if I could keep others happy, keep the peace, then I would be happy too. Plus, how could I do anything for myself, I didn't realize that I needed the exact same things I was giving others, compassion, kindness, forgiveness, love, because it was never given to me. My upbringing had taught me I was invisible, I didn't exist or at least my needs didn't. The horrible things my father did and said to us also made me feel unworthy, unlovable, and incapable of anything. So what did I do? I spent my entire life trying to prove him wrong. I moved to another province, got my own place, and a full time job at the age of 17. I put myself through 8 years of post-secondary school while raising two toddlers with my partner, and working a part time job. I busted my ass to be the best I could be at everything, student, mother, human being, so that what he said about me could not be true, and I was willing to pay a very high cost; my health and sanity. Still, I was going to be the best at everything!! My self expectations were extremely high, and believed if I could do it then my friends, children, and partner could do it too. Sadly, my expectations were unrealistic, and cost me my relationship and my two oldest children moved out at a young age, because they couldn't take my controlling nature and high expectations.

That is my childhood in a nutshell. I was raised in a violent and chaotic environment, my father was my "captor" and abuser, and I had no control over anything. I didn't even have the right to feel sad, angry or afraid because I would be punished for expressing those feelings, and they were too intense so I buried them, I disocciated, I told myself things weren't as bad as I thought they were which is called "minimizing". Many survivors do this in order to cope with the memories and the tragedy of what occurred. I'm certain this sounds very  familiar to some of you, and if it does, talk to your doctor.

So after four decades of repressing my feelings in order to survive, and later as a way to cope, I'm now being asked to express them. Express what? How I felt living in that environment? I reply to my therapist "I felt scared, sad, angry, confused." Not good enough, I need to show those feelings, connect to those feelings, let them be heard for the first time, and I must do this so that they have less of an impact on me, my happiness, my life,  and I can stop re-enacting my trauma. But I can't connect with them. I learned my lessons so well about repressing all those bad feelings that I don't know if I will ever be able to feel them  which means I don't know if I can recover from this. I spent this entire past week trying to access sadness, fear, pain, and I can't. I can talk about what I experienced in the same way I talk about a movie I saw, matter-of-factly. What if I don't succeed in connecting in the remaining five weeks of the program? What if it never happens? Will I remain a prisoner of my trauma, sentenced to live out the rest of my life like a character in "Ground Hog Day" re-enacting events of the past, because I don't know how not to??  Now I'm scared for real... but not of my trauma.

http://www.mayoclinic.com/health/intermittent-explosive-disorder/DS00730

Bullying - We are more than our respective traumas....

 Reduced me to tears....

A nice break from my personal experience to learn that we are not alone in our pain....

Amazing how powerful creativity is in communicating an idea. What really resonates with me in this piece is the complete eradication of self that results from trauma in this case, bullying. When someone has been traumatized or abused as a child, they never learn who they really are, only who their abusers tell them they are. I'm not even certain that little girl who was traumatized repeatedly as a child even exists any more, but  only now, or since my treatment began last Fall, am I beginning to learn who she became and what I need now because what I needed as a child was irrelevant.  I'm also beginning to learn "it's not so much about the pain as it is the beauty."

An inspiring, moving, and haunting spoken word piece about mental illness, depression, pain, loneliness, loss, identity, and bullying. Spoken word, for those unfamiliar with this unique genre of art, is a spoken poem sung without a melody but just as beautiful as any song. In a Canadian "Ted Talks" clip, Shane Koyczan is compelling and authentic in his creative rendering of the pain and the beauty of mental illness. Anyone who has ever experienced bullying or depression will be touched by his words. It is a twelve minute piece, but I guarantee you, it's worth every second. Just another sufferer of mental illness taking something painful and finding value in it, and finding a way to communicate it as honestly as possible to the world. I have so much admiration for this man.... love it!

"Art is a personal act of courage, something one human does that creates change in another." Godin.

Post Traumatic Stress Disorder - Do I Really Want to go Back There?

As I was telling some friends, with less than 48 hours to go before I return to the mental health hospital I was in last Fall for a mood and anxiety treatment program, I find myself feeling very reluctant. Why? Because this program is for PTSD, post traumatic stress disorder. For those of you who may not know what that is, it is a disorder usually caused by a traumatic event in a person's life where he/she felt that his/her life or the life of a loved one was at risk for being seriously harmed or even destroyed. Many war veterans and police officers suffer from PTSD for obvious reasons, but serious car accidents, a life threatening illness, sexual abuse, domestic violence, child abuse, rape, burglary, being threatened with a weapon, natural disasters, and robbery to name only a few can also result in PTSD.

In my particular case, the psychologist labelled my PTSD as "severe and complex" which means it was ongoing and repeated (severe), and it began before the age of 8 years (complex). Apparently, when the trauma occurs before the age of eight, it is much more difficult to address since many of the memories are buried. When I was being assessed for possibly having PTSD, in the first section of the survey were twelve questions where each question ended with the statement ".... where you felt you or a loved one were under threat of being seriously harmed or killed"... I answered "yes" to seven of the twelve questions. I had to stop there when filling out the survey, because seeing it all on paper made me realize just how sad it truly was, and I began to cry. Before then, "it was just my life", "that's just the way the cookie crumbled", "the cards I was dealt", "nobody has it easy" kind of thing, but looking at it on paper made it real, it could not be avoided or overlooked any longer, I could see how wrong it was especially considering I knew my abuser, someone who was supposed to protect me and keep me safe during those very early formative years. I had two other abusers later in my life as well, we tend to be drawn to what is familiar. You can imagine how that warped my entire view of the world, who to trust, whether anyone was really safe, or how to view alleged "loving" relationships. So what I did as a result, a coping mechanism, was become so independent that I needed no one, there was no need to trust anyone or ask for help only to be disappointed, because I could take care of myself, the same way I always took care of my siblings as well as myself. A very lonely existence which put a great deal of pressure on me that resulted in depression, insomnia, hyper-vigilence, unexplained fears, difficulties with relationships, and isolation.

So, the closer it gets to my admission date, the more afraid I become. I'm so scared of going back there, not to the hospital, but the place where all this pain began, my childhood. Pain I haven't even really felt, but I know I'm going to feel. I find myself crying a lot because I don't want to go there, I don't want to be that little girl without any control or power again, I don't want to feel what she so skillfully buried and kept hidden as a means of survival. I'm not strong like everyone thinks. I don't want to remember what happened, I just want it to stay where it is, in that box in the back of my mind labelled "toxic- do not open".... but I know it will help me live a better life in the long run, a happier life. Treatment for PTSD has been known to improve so many other conditions which I've already named, conditions like depression, which can be fatal, so for that reason, I must find the strength.

I've decided, as well, that as I learn about my PTSD while in the hospital, I'm going to share what I've learned with you the readers. Not everyone gets the opportunity, as terrifying as it may be, to be admitted to an eight week treatment program, so I am going to do my best to post my experiences, feelings, revelations, and hopes while I am in this program beginning this week. I hope you'll come back to see what the view from the inside is like.... it is my hope you will find it helpful. It is my hope that you will seek treatment for your own mental health problems.

Imagine Living in Fear Everyday of Your Life

I never really understood my anxiety disorder until recently, and I've had it all my life. I, as well as all my friends, just considered me  "dramatic", "high strung", "intense", "passionate", "high maintenance", "hypersensitive", or "very emotional". I never suspected I had Generalized Anxiety Disorder, but when I discovered that was the case, it explained a lot about my behaviour. .

According to the US National Library of Medicine, "the main symptom is the almost constant presence of worry or tension, even when there is little or no cause. Worries seem to float from one problem to another, such as family or relationship problems, work issues, money, health, and other problems.
Even when aware that their worries or fears are stronger than needed, a person with GAD still has difficulty controlling them." It's true. I'm a worrier although I am getting better because of mindfulness which I explained in an earlier post. The simplest things can cause me anxiety, for example leaving the house in the morning makes me very anxious until I'm en route; starting something new causes my heart to beat faster until I feel comfortable with it . Change and  transitions generally create anxiety for me in varying degrees. Being in noisy and crowded spaces like a busy mall or a room full of chattering people causes great anxiety. If someone is late visiting me, I begin to think the worst. If they don't contact me, I will be panicky and sobbing within 30 minutes after their scheduled arrival time thinking they were in a car accident. I always worry I've left something electrical on when I leave the house, and worry that my house is going to burn down when I'm gone. Sometimes my anxiety is so bad, I will actually turn around and go back home just to make sure. I've had a bat under my bed for 9 years now. At one time, I could not drive on the highway, it was a huge trigger for my anxiety, because I thought I was going to crash traveling 110 km an hour. Deadlines can practically paralyze me at times depending on my stress level. At times, I cannot even begin to organize or prioritize in order to meet deadlines. I'm a hypochondriac, I'm convinced every ache and pain is cancer, MS, stroke, brain tumour something terminal (another symptom of depression too, feeling you won't live long). It's always the worst case scenario with me. And roller coasters? Lordy, I feel like I'm going to die on a roller coaster, screaming and crying uncontrollably practically needing an ambulance when the ride is over. Anxiety is such a daily part of my life, I just chalked it up to "well, that's just me".

When I was 22 years old, I was watching a movie called "Tracy Thurman Story" which is a true story about a horrific domestic violence case. When it got to the scene where Tracy's ex husband  is beating her within an inch of her life by kicking her in the head, I completely lost it. I couldn't breath, I ran and hid in the corner of the room sobbing profusely, I was terrified. My partner had gone to the store and came back to a locked door and my audible sobbing behind it which was obviously very disconcerting. He banged on the door calling my name, but I couldn't move to open the door, and I had no idea why. I thought I was "crazy! What a weirdo! Good lord, Lisa, what is your problem?" This is how people with mental illness tear themselves down and are torn down by others in the same vain. Violence is still a huge trigger for me, and I realize why now, I grew up in a home where domestic violence was the norm, and I was diagnosed with PTSD last fall.

Then there's the fear of abandonment issue which is a well hidden phobia that shows itself in unpredictable ways resulting in anxiety, defensiveness, anger, and sadness. All phobias obviously create a great deal of anxiety but are limited to usually a couple of things, snakes, spiders, balloons, whereas GAD is non-descriminative about what creates the anxiety. At one point in life, usually at young age, the person who develops a fear of abandonment has been abandoned possibly through the death of a loved one, a divorce or separation, or felt emotionally abandoned by a caregiver or someone they trust. Usually it rears it's ugly head when I irrationally feel that someone doesn't care about me, like my own children for example, how irrational it that? When they were teens, they questioned my authority of course, and their growing independence was very threatening to me, because it meant they were going to leave me, and I was going to be alone. In my fear and anger, I would lash out, literally have temper tantrums in desperation and not knowing why I was doing it. It created quite a rift between us which we are now beginning to heal. Sometimes someone not returning a phone call can do it,  or when friends would get together and not invite me. You might say that I'm just insecure which is somewhat true, but I have accomplished a lot in my life time, and most people who meet me say the exact opposite. I appear very confident. You can imagine how destructive such fears and anxieties are in personal relationships as well as all the things they prevent you from enjoying. Fear is a real joy stopper.

So as you can see, these are pretty regular everyday occurences, so yes I was anxious almost everyday, and it usually comes out in hurtful remarks and irritability which, of course, at the very least confuses them as to what they've done wrong which is usually nothing. I've had insomnia for as long as I can remember, that's anxiety. I get intense stomach problems when I'm anxious, and my anxiety and depression has gotten so bad that sometimes my anxiety will overwhelm me to the point that my mind actually prevents my body from moving quickly and slows down my thinking and speaking as well which is called psychomotor impairment (I will discuss this further in my next post). Anxiety and depression are cohorts, it's rare to have one without the other and most people are either higher in anxiety than depression or vice versa. I've been blessed with being high in both!

So how do you deal with someone like me? Someone who seems to be afraid of everything, worries all the time, someone whose fears seem completely irrational, or who just seems nervous all the time? First of all, don't judge us, for the most part, we can't help it, and feeling judged just makes it worse. Secondly, don't tell us not to feel that way, we would make that choice if we could. Be forgiving and patient... if we become defensive or irritable, it's not personal, it is simply us trying to protect ourselves in a not so healthy way, and try to be accepting of our anxiety, don't try to change it for us, that's something we have to find the strength to do. Finally, try to put yourselves in our shoes... imagine what it feels like to be afraid or anxious of something every day?  Life is difficult to enjoy when you're always on edge.

I take anti-anxiety medications which help tremendously with the physical manifestations of anxiety like constant movement, leg bouncing, or feeling like my body is buzzing. I have found the courage to face some of my fears one at a time for which I'm very proud, but still more work to do. Mindfulness, meditation, and yoga help to keep me relaxed and clear of mind. Positive self talk is good too... being my own best friend kind of thing.

Not everyone will express their anxiety the same way, so I would really appreciate if you would leave a comment about yours, so others know the many different shapes and forms it takes. Also, if you know someone with GAD, how does it make you feel, and what do you do about it. This is part of the process of breaking down the stigma, talking openly. I and others would love to hear a little piece of your story if you care to share. Thanks for reading and understanding! :)

Destigamtizing: My Time in a Mental Health Institution.

What do you think of when you hear "mental institution"?  

Chances are you think "insane asylum", "loonie bin", "crazy house" all very dated and discriminative phrases. In a previous post I commented on the needed to continue to work against the stigma by changing the language, this is a perfect example. We don't use these phrases anymore at least not without the odd look from anyone hearing them. Most likely, you think of something you've seen on TV or in a movie, unless you've actually been in a mental health hospital, your perspective will most likely be media driven. Mental health hospitals are perceived to be filled with screaming patients, the old guy sitting staring mindlessly into space, the patient who needs to be physically subdued, the young woman rocking back and forth singing quietly to herself. At least, that's what I've seen in the media. This is not to say these types of patients don't exist, one in four patients need to be physically subdued and the majority of those are in a general hospital not a psychiatric hospital. Most patients in a psychiatric hospital suffer from mood disorders, addictions, eating disorders, and trauma, all relatively high functioning for their respective illnesses, but sometimes their illness becomes exacerbated to the point of profoundly reduced functioning, usually by workplace stress or family matters, at which time they need long term care.

 Mental health hospitals, or at least the one I was admitted to for two months for a mood and anxiety disorder, are nothing like what is depicted in ANY movie I've ever seen including "Silver Linings Play Book". There aren't any bars on the windows, patients aren't walking around in striped, prison looking johnny shirts, alleged victims of shock therapy are not being wheeled back to their rooms in a comatose state, and doctors and nurses don't wear lab coats or scrubs and speak to patients in a condescending tone as if they were small children or people unworthy of dignity and respect. So what does it look like then?

Mental health hospitals don't even look or feel like medical hospitals with  the prominent "hospital green" everyone knows, the scrubs, the scent of sterility, the clinical atmosphere, and the somberness created by the reality of sickness and death. The atmosphere is welcoming and pleasant with plants lining the hallways, benches here and there so you can sit and chat with a visitor or fellow patient, beautiful paintings on the walls, and inspirational messages such as "Believe" dispersed throughout. The grounds are also beautifully landscaped to provide a place of serenity and peace for the patients. Not what you usually see in the movies unless of course, you're in the states and you're paying big bucks to go to a "high class" hospital, but from what I understand most psychiatric hospitals in Ontario, and there are only four provincial run hospitals for 1.2 million people with mental illness, are fairly similar.

The patients are fully dressed, walking about freely and often times smiling. It wasn't unusual to witness someone crying in the hallway or having a panic attack, especially in my ward of mood disorders, and everyone who walked by knew why it was happening and felt nothing but sympathy, because most likely they've had a similar experience. I was one of those people. I sat in a chair in a hall for all to see while fending off a panic attack caused by a PTSD trigger, so I could eventually return to my room. The attack was severe and my shaking was intense, but that's why I was there, to learn how to better cope with those moments, because they would come again. As people walked by, they would look at me sympathetically, some would stop and ask "are you OK? Do you need  anything?" or sometimes someone would just sit with me till the worst had past, and I would do the same for others. We bear witness to each others' pain and suffering in a compassionate and inclusive manner. There is an unspoken acknowledgement, a respect, a positive atmosphere created by both the staff and the patients because in here, everyone understands each other.

The staff don't "talk down" or condescend to patients like in movies. They are compassionate, kind, and extremely understanding and they dress in plain clothes, just like the rest of us, even the doctors don't wear so much as a lab coat identifying them as "authority figures". We are given choices about are treatment, and the staff make us aware of those choices and respect them. We are equals in many respects.  In the "hospital" I was admitted to many visitors commented on the positive atmosphere and how welcoming and accepting both patients and staff were f visitors. So you can appreciate the shock and adjustment when I had to return to a society that makes "unfounded" comments and a media that "stereotypes" much of mental illness. I wanted to hide, or at least I did.

Shock therapy or what is more aptly termed ECT (electroconvulsive therapy) is not the inhumane treatment depicted in the movies that renders the patient drooling and completely disabled. It can be an incredibly effective treatment in many cases where years of medication have not worked. I have seen people who, prior to ECT , were withdrawn, extremely nervous and self conscious, quiet, depressed, unhappy, social phobics, and after only two treatments are smiling more, chatting more, and interacting with others just like you and I. It is profoundly moving to witness such dramatic progress in such a short period of time with someone who has become your friend over your time there, you have to see it to truly appreciate how vastly improved is their quality of life. The therapy reboots the signals in the brain so that hopefully now the patient will respond to medication and eliminate the need for further ECT. Many people, however, are shocked, no pun intended, when they hear such "barbaric" treatment still exists. A vast social misunderstanding due to ignorance.

Mental health hospitals are not anything near what is depicted in the media, so please don't base any of your perceptions on that view, it's sensational, dramatic, and is meant to sell, not be accurate. I also know that some folks are a little reluctant in visiting a loved one in a mental institute, because of these media driven misconceptions, so loved ones are often times left alone in these hospitals, not receiving support from the outside thereby being excluded again because of their disability. It takes a great deal of courage to face your disability and accept help for it, they need your support. I'm certain if you were to take a chance and visit someone, not in a general hospital psych ward, they are very different, but in a mental health hospital, you might be pleasantly surprised. You will find a world filled with positivity, support, welcoming faces, laughter, yes, we often laugh at ourselves, fellowship, and most of all, hope that things will get better. In fact, you might even quietly wonder what the outside world would be like if it were a bit more like the world inside of that hospital. I'm going back next month for the PTSD program, and I'm a little afraid of what I will discover, but discovery is the name of the game, but I'm also very much looking forward to being there again.