The #1 Question I’m Asked After I Reveal I Have PTSD

I’ve been networking more than usual in an effort to get the word out about my upcoming book. When I explain what my memoir is about, I usually tell people that I have PTSD.

Before I can continue on, more often than not I’m asked the following question; “Did you serve?”

On the one hand, I absolutely love that people ask me this question because to me it shows an increased awareness and appreciation for our troops and what many are going through as a result of their service. On the other hand, it reminds me of one of the reasons I wrote my memoir—to educate people about PTSD. 

PTSD is not limited to the military, and I have no doubt that most people understand that. However, it’s so easy to find a memoir or an article written by a veteran with PTSD, and I’m certain that’s why I’m asked this question all the time.

Let’s look at some facts. There are 24.2 million Americans who suffer from PTSD. Of those people, 300,000 veterans from the Iraq and Afghanistan wars have PTSD. Even though that number does not include veterans from the Gulf, Vietnam and Korean wars, it’s clear to see that the vast majority of people with PTSD are not veterans. Simple math tells us that over 23 million non-military citizens of our country have PTSD. That’s a lot of people!

I praise all of our military servicemen and servicewomen for sharing their experiences, and I will feel incredibly honored when my memoir is sitting on a shelf next to these brave stories. For everyone else who is suffering from PTSD and never served in the military and who feel like they don’t have stories to inspire them, I want them to know that they are not alone. 

The Key to Finding Peace

Today is International Day of Peace! I know this because I saw a tweet from Dalai Lama (yes, he’s on Twitter) that said, “On this International Day of Peace, we must remember that peace cannot come from prayer alone. It requires action.”

I couldn’t agree more….but frankly it’s hard to ever disagree with Dalai Lama.

I understand entirely that this day is about improving peace within and among all nations and that this year specifically is geared towards sustainable development in order to provide and maintain the necessities of survival without compromising our planet’s resources for future generations. However, I can’t help but think about the key word for today—peace.

Anyone with PTSD will tell you that what they crave most is peace. Not only world peace, but mental peace, physical peace, emotional peace, peace among loved one, peace in the workplace, financial peace, peace in everything aspect of their life. It is this one simple, beautiful word that one suffering from flashbacks, anxiety, insomnia, anger and social withdrawal wants more than anything else.

And Dalai Lama today reminded me and hopefully many others that as much as we pray and meditate a life of peace, achieving it requires action. The action of writing it out, among other things, is what distances me from my symptoms and brings me peace.

The action of kayak fishing is what helps military veterans across the country decompress from the stresses associated with combat, thanks to an amazing organization called Heroes on the Water.

The action of yoga is what helps those who have gone down a rough path due to growing up surrounded by violence find a productive life, thanks for yoga therapist Nancy Candea and her organization Yoga Impact.

The action of creating art is what helps survivors of sexual assault with PTSD, thanks to the generous volunteers of Pandora's Project.

The action of receiving acupuncture is what assists those affected by natural disasters find relief from stress, thanks to one of my favorite organizations Acupuncturists Without Borders.

Inaction may feel protective and safe but it doesn’t bring peace.

When the Needle Bursts the Bubble

Every once in a while, an acupuncture treatment produces a tremendous emotional release. In my decade of practice, I’ve seen it about half a dozen times. It usually comes as a surprise and the patient sometimes has no idea why the emotion is coming up, but in my opinion, it’s always wonderful and transformational when it does.

That’s when the needle bursts the bubble. Interestingly, most times the patient doesn’t even know that they had a bubble.

These sorts of reactions were warned to me and my classmates on one of the first days of acupuncture school, and we frequently reviewed how to help a patient through that release so they feel safe and protected. Unfortunately, or perhaps fortunately depending on how you look at it, the faculty and students had a lot of experience with emotional releases from traumatic experiences since the acupuncture school was located on the north side of 14th Street in Manhattan, which was only a few blocks from where the World Trade Center towers stood and which happened to be the furthest block south that remained open immediately after September 11th.

It happened to me. The needle burst my bubble during my second year of school. I’d been receiving practice treatments from my classmates for many months, and the usual group of friends that I trusted enough to practice on me knew I had PTSD. We had exchanged nearly a dozen treatments up to this point, and all of them left me feeling that usual relaxed state that I absolutely love about acupuncture. However, this one burst the bubble.

We were in a class practicing a specific protocol not intentionally directed towards treating my PTSD. After only the second needle was inserted the tears began to form. Then they started to flow. Then they flooded and turned into waterfalls. I’ve never cried so hard. It continued for forty-five minutes.

Thankfully, I never felt unsafe or even out of control. One of my classmates pressed an acupressure point to help calm me while the other gently dabbed at my tears. Neither one tried to rush the process. Instead, they held a safe space for me to release and release and release while frequently checking in with me to see how I was doing.

After about the twentieth time my classmate asked me how I was doing, I finally felt like I was able to take a calm deep breath without crying. The needles were removed and I slowly got up. I felt tired and a little worn out, but what fascinated me was how much lighter and calmer I felt. Before class, I thought I had felt fine. It was seven years since my traumatic experience and I thought my day to day life was going well. I didn’t even know I had a bubble.

That’s something I’ve learned from having PTSD, that when I saw the tree rip apart and hit my dad while he was walking towards me in our driveway after having retrieved the mail from the mailbox, my body formed a bubble. It was a bubble to protect me, a survival bubble. Over time, layers of the bubble have released, sometimes giving way to emotional releases, sometimes slipping off without me noticing.

I’m not sure if I’ll always have a bubble, but I find comfort in knowing that when they burst, I feel better. They always remind me that I can grow stronger.

Write It Out

Are you haunted by traumas from your past? Do you have memories that come to you when you don’t want to think about them? If so, WRITE IT OUT! 

Then find your courage and help spread the word! Take a photo of you holding your write out (you do not need to explain what you wrote) and share it on social media using the hashtag #WriteItOut. Let’s help people who need it find their happy again! Let’s WRITE IT OUT!