Keep Pain in the Past

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Keep Pain in the Past Page 14

by Chris Cortman


  Elizabeth, who had been sober for eleven years by the time I met her, told me that she had “bought in” early on and attended daily meetings. Within months, she began working the twelve steps with her sponsor. Over the course of a year, she had remained substance free, completed probation, continued AA voluntarily, and completed seven of the twelve steps of AA. As you readers in recovery may know, there are similar themes present between the four steps of an apology outlined above and several of the steps of AA.

  Repentance—doing a 180 degree turn away from the bad behavior—is, of course, the very crux of AA’s purpose, which is to maintain sobriety. Once again, an apology is meaningless if the bad behavior persists. The first step of apologizing, as outlined above (taking total responsibility), is step four in AA (taking a fearless moral inventory). For Elizabeth, this included admitting to God, herself, and her sponsor that she had emotionally hurt, neglected (at times), and embarrassed her two children, Joy and Samuel. The final step of an effective apology listed above is identical to step nine of AA, which is to make amends directly, if possible. As a minister, her sponsor was able to use her own recovery and spiritual wisdom to help guide Elizabeth to successfully complete these steps, which included delivering a proper apology to her son, Samuel. She was able to share with Samuel, who hadn’t been speaking to Elizabeth after the death of his sister Joy, her fearless moral inventory, which included the responsibility she’d had in his and Joy’s difficult childhood.

  She also, of course, apologized, and explained to him that she had been sober for a year. Elizabeth also made it clear to Samuel that her intentions to make amends had limitations, in that she could neither turn back time nor bring Joy back, but she could be the best grandmother on the planet. Recall that a proper apology can go a long way; Samuel took a leap of faith and began the process of reconciliation, and he allowed his mother the opportunity to be a grandmother. At first, he was tentative, but as she continued to earn his trust again, she was given more and more time with her grandchildren. Because of this process, Elizabeth now has a great relationship with her grandchildren.

  I was the other helpful person Elizabeth met. While she was able to apologize to Samuel directly, she was unsure of what to do about Joy, because she felt Joy had paid the ultimate price. Her guilt and shame regarding Joy’s death was still prevalent in her life. As a result, I recommended she write an apology/goodbye letter to Joy and read it at her headstone in the local cemetery. It read as follows.

  Dear Joy,

  This is long overdue, but I think I’m finally ready to apologize for letting you down, and hopefully, to let you go. Please let me explain: after your dad died, my world fell apart. It was never supposed to go down like this, your dad dying and leaving us behind to fend for ourselves. Granted, I know it wasn’t his fault that he died, but the challenge of raising you and Samuel was mine alone after that. It was challenging, and I failed. I was too wrapped up in myself and my own grief. Dealing with losing your dad and raising two young kids was overwhelming for me, and instead of trying to get help, I was weak and turned to alcohol. No one “blamed” me for it at first, but it definitely got out of hand. I know I let you down because I was drinking all the time, and I think you suffered from that the most because you were the oldest. Seeing your mother drunk all the time no doubt influenced the young girl who became a drug addict herself. I turned to alcohol for support after your dad died, and I suppose that you turned to drugs because you didn’t have support from your mother. I understand that now, and I am so sorry I wasn’t there for you. I don’t blame you for your drug addiction. Somehow, I hope you can forgive me for mine.

  I have been sober now for eleven years, but I still feel at fault for your overdose. While I know that what happened to you might have happened regardless of my sobriety, I am working on forgiving myself and making amends to your niece and nephew. I know I wasn’t the mother you needed, but I am working to be an unforgettable grandmother, and I hope that maybe that will be good enough. I love you and I miss you, and I’m looking forward to seeing you again when it’s my time.

  Love, Mom

  Austin Wright

  The final story in this chapter is about a young man who epitomizes what happens when you’re feeling guilty because of the pain you’ve caused someone and how to cope with this trauma and move on with your life. I want to share this story in part because I observed it unfolding, and in part because it’s inspiring to learn how Austin handled a situation that might have destroyed others. You’ll hear directly from Austin how he came to terms with the tragedy he catalyzed and found the strength to lead a meaningful, productive life.

  On April 2nd, 2007, twenty-one-year-old Austin Wright was in Gainesville, Florida, drinking and partying with his friends on the night of the NCAA national championship game. The University of Florida prevailed in the contest, defeating Ohio State ’84–’75. Predictably, the city of Gainesville was alive with student celebration, with bars, clubs, and restaurants jammed with happy Gators. Austin was not a Gator, but both his parents and brother were. He had also attended nearby Santa Fe Community College, also in Gainesville. As far as he was concerned, this was his school, this was his team, and this was his celebration.

  But then Austin made the worst mistake of his young life. He got behind the wheel of a car and ended up driving down a closed road and hitting a pedestrian, Lieutenant Corey Dahlem, forty-eight, of the Gainesville Police Department. The impact knocked Lt. Dahlem to the street, where he stuck his head on the rim of a parked vehicle and died instantly. Lieutenant Dahlem was a decorated police lieutenant, a husband, and the father of two children. From every indication, this was a fine human being who had made the world a better place. Austin came to see me wearing a somewhat stoic exterior, but was inwardly broken, scared, guilty, and ashamed. His parents were well-known in his hometown of Venice as impressive people, loving, responsible, and good-hearted. But they were now twice broken. Though they demonstrated genuine compassion for the Dahlem family, they hurt from the knowledge that their boy was going away for a long time.

  At the sentencing, the courtroom included Lt. Dahlem’s family, friends, and coworkers, all testifying about the man they had lost due to Austin’s poor decision. The other half of the courtroom featured dozens of Wright supporters who had made the three-hour trek to Gainesville to support Austin and testify about what a fine young man he was, despite his disastrous mistake.

  I testified on Austin’s behalf, informing the court that this was indeed a man of “ego strength.” He was wounded, but strong enough to be accountable for his mistake. He made no excuses and blamed only himself. He was remorseful, I stated, and possessed the capacity to learn from his mistake.

  The judge possessed great leverage in his sentencing decision—he could choose a minimum sentence of say, three or four years, or a maximum sentence of thirty years, if he were so inclined. The judge knew that Austin was not a criminal and was a well-liked student in school who used his social and physical stature to take a stand for the bullied and the downtrodden. He was a good kid who had made a bad mistake. What was the judge to do to achieve justice? The answer was ten years in prison, eight and a half actually served—a statement that drunk driving was not to be tolerated, but Austin would have a second chance at life when his sentence was at last over.

  Austin is a free man today, and he cherishes his freedom. I asked him if he would meet with me and allow me to tell his story in this book. Austin doesn’t make plans easily—plans feel restrictive after being confined for so long—but he jumped at the opportunity to share his experience, because he wants to help as many people as possible. We met for lunch at a local restaurant.

  I asked him some questions regarding his life after prison, his emotional well-being, and his re-assimilation into society. Mostly, I needed to know what he had done with his crime; how was he explaining it to himself at this juncture? Now that he was free, was he able to live his life
without the emotional baggage of guilt, shame, and worthlessness?

  What follows is an accurate paraphrasing of Austin’s thoughts and feelings regarding his moral injury, recovery, and attempt at putting his life together in the healthiest manner possible.

  “What do you do mentally with the fact that you killed Lieutenant Dahlem?”

  “I have to move on. It hurts my heart when I think about him and his family, but I can’t dwell on that if I want to be well. When I was in jail, a man (a cellmate) asked me if I believed in God. I said ‘yes.’ He asked if I had asked God for forgiveness, and I said ‘yes.’ He said, ‘Then you have already been forgiven. Now it’s a matter of forgiving yourself.’ That helped me. I can’t control if anyone else forgives me, I can only control my attitude and my behavior. For instance, I have decided I will never again allow alcohol to influence my decision-making. That will not happen again.

  I know it’s not about me anymore. That is, I don’t have the capacity to change the past. If I could bring back Lt. Dahlem, I certainly would. But now my options are either to use my experiences to make a difference and help others, or to wallow in my own pain and shame and accomplish nothing. Essentially, those are my options. If my life is to have any purpose, I need to take the next fifty years to make a difference. Otherwise, the entire experience and the life lessons are wasted.”

  “How would you like to make a difference?”

  “I can always become a better person. When I was first arrested, I was on a GPS monitor, so being a better person meant spending as much time with my family as possible. Now it means learning to better understand people. It really seems to help them when I can understand them, especially when I can relate to their pain, suffering, guilt, and fear. I also have learned to become more compassionate as a person. It all emerges from an improved understanding of myself, especially as the better I understand my own emotions, the better I can relate to and ultimately help others.”

  “How do you intend to help others? Do you have a formal plan, or is it more an informal plan to improve the world, one human at a time?”

  “Actually, both. I think of myself as already helping everyone I can by being a caring and compassionate listener. But I’m now working fifty hours a week and attending college because finishing my degree is everything to me. At some point when I am capable, I’d like to devote more of my time and energy to helping ex-cons who are trying to land of their feet. I am actually thinking of buying a house and renting four small apartments to felons who are having a hard time with affordable rent. I have been there, I understand what they’re thinking. I don’t know what else I will do, I only know that this is of central importance to my life. I have the chance to live my life from here, and I am grateful to have that gift. I’d like to convert that gratitude into action to help other people, especially former inmates. Does that make sense?”

  “Did the notion of an ‘eye for an eye’ occur to you, and did you consider suicide at any point to even the score with the Dahlem family?”

  “Even when I was at my personal rock bottom, suicide was never an option. First of all, I love life. I realized that there was so much I couldn’t control in prison, but I did have control over my attitude and my choices. Besides, suicide never evens the score. It makes it worse. Now there’s another loss, and my parents are even more devastated. No, that’s not a good answer. I have learned to thank God every day for my life, and I’ve learned to cherish my family, my life, my God, and even me. It’s important to not only forgive myself, but also to love myself. If I hate myself, then I cannot forgive me, I can only continue to make poor decisions. Because no good decisions are made from self-hatred.”

  “What would you tell your someone who found themselves unforgivable?”

  “God can forgive all things, and so can you. If you can do it, you can forgive it. When it comes to your mind and your body, you are your own god. That means you always have choices. Again, if you can forgive yourself, then you are forgiven.

  But remember, forgiving yourself is more than telling yourself to move on. Self-forgiveness is really about taking complete responsibility for my actions—it was nobody’s fault but mine. And then, of course, self-forgiveness requires changing my behavior. My self-forgiveness and apologies would be very empty if I repeated that behavior in some way. I must improve. My choice is to allow myself forgiveness. And then it’s a matter of paying for the crime. On an earthly basis, I paid for my crime by doing my time. On a spiritual basis, I believe God offers forgiveness out of his own love for us. I have to believe that he loves and forgives me, so I can forgive myself.”

  As you might read in Austin’s answers, his method of self-forgiveness harkens back to the Old Testament mentality of taking ownership (confession), changing the behavior (repentance), and cleaning up the mess as much as possible (making amends). This was corroborated in Dr. Lazare’s work. No amount of apologizing or making amends will reverse his behavior on April 2nd, 2007, but Austin is aware of that. He also knows that he always has choices, self-contempt versus making a difference; Judas Iscariot versus Saint Paul. Austin chose the latter.

  So, let’s summarize what we’ve learned in this chapter: first of all, you are human. You will make thousands of mistakes throughout your lifetime. Most mistakes are benign, but some do significant damage to the lives of others, including emotional injury, bodily harm, and even death.

  After making such a mistake, you have the option of running away, drowning in alcohol (or other substances), revising your core beliefs about yourself (e.g., “I am a loser and a failure, and always will be”), or facing the mistake head-on. Should you choose the latter, you must confess your mistake and take ownership of it. This mean repenting (seeking forgiveness), doing a 180-degree turn and not repeating the mistake (e.g., being clean and sober), and making amends where possible. Once done, you may then live the remainder of your life in gratitude by accepting forgiveness from God, others, and self, and using your time and energy to make the world a better place.

  Chapter Nine

  Complex PTSD: When the Trauma Happened Again and Again

  •

  “Boy, you’re gonna carry that weight, carry that weight a long time.”

  —The Beatles

  When Your Pain In the Past Is Complex

  What do I mean by complex? In the simplest of terms, this involves ongoing and repetitive trauma. Having your father lose control and punch your mother is an ugly nightmare, to be sure. But your problems are worse when that situation repeats itself throughout your childhood. Repetitive or ongoing traumatic situations keep the stress response on and your nervous system on high alert for other potential threats. Exciting the stress response, you may remember, will take you from arousal (fight or flight) to resistance (continuing in high gear), then to exhaustion (breakdown begins), disease, and finally death. Old age, once again, is the accumulation of stress on the body.

  So when children are exposed to ongoing or repetitive stressors, the consequences are far greater than dealing with a single trauma. Just as one rainstorm pales in comparisons to several consecutive years of extreme rainfall, so are many traumas more wearing and more difficult to treat than a single trauma. And now we have a term for the results of ongoing or repetitive trauma: Complex Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (CPTSD).

  What do we know about CPTSD? Quite a bit. Let’s explore some of the differences between PTSD and CPTSD51:

  PTSD

  Complex PTSD

  •Can result from a one-time event.

  •Often occurs in fully developed adults.

  •Affects emotions. Depression and anxiety are common.

  •Symptoms mostly specific to trauma.

  •Better prognosis for treatment.

  •Results from accumulated traumas, often beginning
in childhood.

  •Significantly affects social, psychiatric, cognitive, and biological development.

  •More severe emotionally disturbance, mistrust of others, defensiveness, and difficulties with interpersonal relationships common.

  Essentially, it is PTSD on steroids. If you have experienced a single trauma, you’ll need to process and digest your experiences through the Fritz (remember, feel, express, release, reframe). But if you’ve experienced multiple (ongoing or repetitive) traumas and have a likely diagnosis of CPTSD, you will need to utilize additional tools to effectively heal. While the Fritz can help you if you have CPTSD, you should also seek a properly trained trauma specialist to facilitate your healing. While working with a therapist, you may need to spend more time establishing rapport and trust, because trust is essential in rebuilding your broken life. Feeling safe with your therapist is also important, because your defensiveness was protective. A therapist can help wean you off denial (denying the existence of problems and/or pain), minimization (downplaying the effects of said problems and/or pain), or dissociation (separating self from reality). You may need to take small steps before you will trust your therapist and yourself with the horrible memories you have pushed away from your conscious mind.

  Once the Pandora’s box of remembering is ajar, the memories are likely to surface—one at a time—until they are completed and depleted. This process of allowing the traumatic past to surface must be constructed upon a foundation of trust, connection, and safety. Things you have never told your spouse (or even yourself) you will now share with your therapist, much to your amazement. But to attempt to do so too soon may result in negative outcomes like early termination (dropping out of treatment) or feeling overwhelmed by the emotions of the memories and failing to cope (emotional dysregulation). Good therapy helps to establish trust, coping skills, and then a plan to bravely face the buried traumatic material (exposure to memories of all the traumatic events), which are all needed to complete the Fritz.

 

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