PTSD: Why It’s so Hard to Talk To Your Loved Ones

One of the worst things about PTSD is how it cuts you off from those who want to be there for you: your spouse, and closest friends and family.

When you’re suffering, your loved ones want to help. They might ask what’s wrong. You know they’re trying to help… Only, you feel like you can’t talk to them.

Your loved ones can’t understand why you won’t talk about it. They might feel shut out and rejected; their feelings might be hurt that you won’t let them be there for you. And that might make you feel guilty, which doesn’t help: now you’re feeling guilty on top of suffering, and your loved one is feeling rejected and helpless. Yikes!

…If this scenario sounds familiar to you, then I invite you to read this post, and then share it with your loved one. Hopefully, it’ll help both of you understand what’s going on and why. And it’ll help both of you feel better.

A big piece of PTSD is avoidance. Basically, that means even thinking about “that stuff” is about as easy as staring directly into the sun without squinting: just like the glare of the sun, the glare of your feelings around the trauma is too intense. It’s not that you’re trying to shut out your loved one; first and foremost you’re trying to shut yourself out, because thinking about your trauma just feels so awful.

Now, add to the pain of thinking about the trauma, the idea of sharing it with your loved one. That takes it to a whole new level: it feels like taking your most horrible, painful thoughts and feelings, and inflicting them on someone you care about. You can’t bring yourself to do it because you can’t bear to even think about that stuff, can’t bear to hurt them, and can’t bear to watch how it hurts them to know what happened to you.

It’s not a choice, it’s a symptom. So, stop beating up on yourself about it – the shame and guilt just makes you feel worse for something you can’t control right now. Instead tell your loved one something like, “Thank you for caring about me. Your support means a lot. I wish I could talk to you about it, but right now I just can’t. Even thinking about it to myself is too much.”

If you’re the loved one on the other end of this, understand that it can be too painful for the person with PTSD to talk about their trauma. It’s not a choice; it’s not a reflection of how much they trust you, so please don’t make it a test of your relationship. Know that if they could, they would tell you. Let them know that you support them, and ask how you can be helpful. Realize that sometimes, being helpful might mean backing off, or helping them distract from their feelings.

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I’d love to have you share your thoughts, comments, and questions. If you do post a comment, please don’t give specific details of your trauma – these may be triggering to another reader. If you’d like to offer criticism, I’ll take it – I know I’m not perfect, and I’m always willing to learn. If you do offer criticism though, I’d really appreciate it if you could do so constructively (ie., no name-calling, please). Thanks…

You can find me on Twitter and on Facebook.

~ Dr. Dee Rajska, C. Psych.

*Fine print: Please feel free to share the link to this blog wherever you think it might be helpful! Reading this blog is a good start, but it’s no substitute for professional help. It takes a different kind of courage to admit to yourself that you’re struggling. PTSD is not a sign of failure – it’s a sign that you’ve been through a lot, and have tried to stay strong for too long. If you need help – you’re in some pretty great company. Reach out, and give yourself a chance to feel better.

**Really fine print: The content of Coming Back Home is copyrighted; please feel free to share the link, but do not copy and paste content. Unless otherwise noted, all original photography on Coming Back Home is the copyrighted property of Larry M. Jaipaul; please do not copy images without permission.

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Getting through November 11th: A brief how-to guide

Note to my American Readers: In Canada, November 11th is Remembrance Day. It’s a bit like Memorial Day, but without the mattress sales or backyard cookouts; it’s a somber occasion that can be challenging to cope with. 

Hi, everyone!

With less than a week to go before Remembrance Day, some of you might be looking at the calendar and hearing that music from JAWS playing in the back of your head.

I know – you don’t want to think about it. But, not thinking about it means you rob yourself of the opportunity to prepare.

Here’s a few ideas for how to get through it:

Start with a review of what you did last year. Who did you spend the day with? What did you do? What parts of that worked, and what parts need improving? This is your best starting point for getting a sense of what you need: if you spent the day with friends but felt exhausted by the end, then perhaps you need some more time to yourself. If you were by yourself but felt isolated, then consider spending part of the day with people.

This is going to sound cheesy, but: give yourself permission to feel. Military culture means that you expect yourself to be this unwavering wall of steel, where nothing gets under your skin. Well – this is a day that’s supposed to get under your skin, because you care.

So – this year, instead of telling yourself to suck it up harder and make sure you don’t choke up or let a tear slip out – tell yourself something like this: “Hey, you know what? This day is to remember all the sacrifices. Yeah, I’m going to get choked up – and if anyone’s got a problem with that, then they need to get their compassion chip adjusted!!!”

That way, you don’t have to worry about getting emotional – it takes a lot of pressure off of yourself, and might make it easier to get through the day.

Now – that’s all pretty light and fluffy so far, right? Heads up – this next part digs deeper, so give yourself some time to read it in a quiet space. 

Lots of people struggle with a sense of guilt and shame about fallen comrades, because you lived and they didn’t so, somehow, your brain twists this into being all your fault. Maybe you even realize that these feelings don’t make logical sense, and you kick yourself to stop feeling this way but can’t let it go. That makes getting through this day particularly tricky.

If this is you, then here’s a tough question to ask yourself: what are you doing to remember and honour the fallen today… and what are you doing just to punish yourself for having lived?

There’s a difference. If it feels like you’re punishing yourself, then you’re not genuinely honouring anyone.

So – switch gears. Work hard to remember one happy memory about your friend. Try to remember it in as much detail as you can. Do your best smile like you mean it. Spend a little less time and energy on punishing yourself.

There – you’ve just honoured and remembered them. Well done.

 

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Please feel free to share this post, and any other on this blog, with anyone who might benefit.

I’d love to have you share your thoughts, comments, and questions. If you do post a comment, please don’t give specific details of your trauma – these may be triggering to another reader. If you’d like to offer criticism, I’ll take it – I know I’m not perfect, and I’m always willing to learn. If you do offer criticism though, I’d really appreciate it if you could do so constructively (ie., no name-calling, please). Thanks…

You can find me on Twitter and on Facebook.

~ Dr. Dee Rajska, C. Psych.

*Fine print: Please feel free to share the link to this blog wherever you think it might be helpful! Reading this blog is a good start, but it’s no substitute for professional help. It takes a different kind of courage to admit to yourself that you’re struggling. PTSD is not a sign of failure – it’s a sign that you’ve been through a lot, and have tried to stay strong for too long. If you need help – you’re in some pretty great company. Reach out, and give yourself a chance to feel better.

**Really fine print: The content of Coming Back Home is copyrighted; please feel free to share the link, but do not copy and paste content. Unless otherwise noted, all original photography on Coming Back Home is copyrighted. The photo gracing today’s post was taken by M & C Charbonneau, and I’d like to thank them for generously allowing me to use their work. Please do not copy photographs from Coming Back Home without permission.

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Relaxation to Control Panic: What You’re Doing Wrong

So – we’ve been talking about panic – where it comes from, and some basic fears and facts.

You may have read those posts, tried some of the strategies, and concluded that they don’t work.

If that’s the case – let me assure you that they do work; let’s just tweak how and when you use them.

Let’s put anxiety on a scale of 0 to 10. 0 means you’re so relaxed that you’re barely conscious; 10 is a full-blown panic attack.

If you’re living with PTSD, then chances are, you never actually get all the way down to 0; your best day is a 5. Your average day is more like a 7.

That means that on an average day, you’re already over two-thirds of the way to panic. (Yes, this is precisely why I keep carrying on about relaxation – because if you do some sort of relaxation exercise regularly, it will help to bring down that average. Even if you get your average down to a 6, you’ve already given yourself a little extra breathing room).

So – on a typical day, even something small is enough to get your anxiety to start creeping up.

You feel the familiar tell-tale signs – your heart starts beating a little quicker. Your muscles start to tense up. You feel a little more nervous.

And what do you do? Well, if you’re like most of the patients that I work with, you do your best to ignore it.

It’s kind of like a really annoying neighbour. The kind who talks your ear off about nothing, boring you to tears. If that guy is knocking on your door, you might decide to sit really quietly, pretend you aren’t home, and hope he goes away.

Well – it might work with your neighbour. But with anxiety? Here’s what your head is doing while you’re trying to ignore anxiety:

“Uh oh… I know that feeling… Oh crap, are we gonna do this again? CRAP. I really, really don’t want this to happen again. Please, please, please, not this nonsense again….”

Yeah. Just reading that makes you feel a little nervous right? Stop. Breathe. You’re okay.

The point is – thinking that way makes you feel completely helpless, and that makes the panic worse. So, while you’re busy trying to ignore your panic – it just builds and builds. And then, when you get to a 9.5 out of 10 – then you think: “Oh, crap. It’s coming. Quick – what was I supposed to do? Breathe, and tell myself some reassuring stuff? How did that go again?”

Folks – by the time you get to 9.5, trying to remember what you’re supposed to do to relax is a lot like trying to hold back Niagara Falls with a paperclip. It’s not going to do much to help you out at that point.

Your timing’s off. You’re doing the right things, at the wrong time.

Here’s how to tweak it to get more control: the moment you start to feel your anxiety inching up – right when you start to get the urge to try to ignore it – that is when you need to remind yourself that you are not helpless. Now is your chance to be proactive and take control. Yes this will be unpleasant – but it can’t hurt you, and the more you focus on taking control, the more you’ll be successful in making this kind of thing shorter and less frequent.

…And when you start your slow, deep breathing, keep breathing – your panic will make you want to give up after just a few seconds and go, “It’s not working, it’s not working!!! I can’t do this!”

Hey – it’s not working yet, okay? It works. Keep doing it. Give it at least ten minutes of good, focused, slow, deep breaths. It’ll work. And with practice, it’ll get easier.

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I’d love to have you share your thoughts, comments, and questions. If you do post a comment, please don’t give specific details of your trauma – these may be triggering to another reader. If you’d like to offer criticism, I’ll take it – I know I’m not perfect, and I’m always willing to learn. If you do offer criticism though, I’d really appreciate it if you could do so constructively (ie., no name-calling, please). Thanks…

You can find me on Twitter and on Facebook.

~ Dr. Dee Rajska, C. Psych.

*Fine print: Please feel free to share the link to this blog wherever you think it might be helpful! Reading this blog is a good start, but it’s no substitute for professional help. It takes a different kind of courage to admit to yourself that you’re struggling. PTSD is not a sign of failure – it’s a sign that you’ve been through a lot, and have tried to stay strong for too long. If you need help – you’re in some pretty great company. Reach out, and give yourself a chance to feel better.

**Really fine print: The content of Coming Back Home is copyrighted; please feel free to share the link, but do not copy and paste content. Unless otherwise noted, all original photography on Coming Back Home is copyrighted. The photo gracing today’s post was taken by M & C Charbonneau, and I’d like to thank them for generously allowing me to use their work. Please do not copy photographs from Coming Back Home without permission.

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“Why do I push people away when I need them the most?”

The title of this post is a question that was sent to me a little while ago; it comes up often enough, and seems to be something that a lot of people can relate to.

When we’re at our loneliest and most vulnerable – precisely when we need support the most – often seems to be exactly the time when we work the hardest to push people away. It doesn’t seem to make any sense, and we often kick ourselves for acting this way.

There’s actually some important reasons why we tend to act this way.

One is reflex: when we feel hurt and vulnerable, our defenses go up. When that happens, it’s harder to trust and let people in.

Two is history, especially childhood: When we’ve been hurt, our antennas go up and we find it a lot harder to trust; so the more lonely we feel, the more vulnerable we feel. When we feel vulnerable, our instinct is to not trust because we’re afraid of being hurt again. It’s a vicious cycle – we feel alone, so we feel vulnerable, so we push people away,  which makes us feel alone, which makes us feel vulnerable, which makes us push people away…

Three is culture, especially if you’re from a military background: you’re used to being tough and doing your best to act even tougher. Trying to let your guard down to let someone else actually look after you makes you feel… Vulnerable. You don’t want anyone to see you when you’re hurting, so even though you really need them to be there for you, you push them away.

The trick to breaking the pattern is:

One, understand that your reflex is making you feel less trusting – it’s colouring your outlook, and making you more crusty and prickly than you normally would be. So, know that the reason you’re pushing people away is because you really need them.

Two, realize that you got hurt back then, and this is now. It’s important to remind yourself that not everyone is like the person/people who hurt you; it will take work to slowly allow yourself to let people in.

UPDATE: Since it was published, this post has been one of the most read on this blog, and many readers have asked me to write more on the topic. Here’s a link to part 2 on this topic; here is part 3.

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I’d love to have you share your thoughts, comments, and questions. If you do post a comment, please don’t give specific details of your trauma – these may be triggering to another reader. If you’d like to offer criticism, I’ll take it – I know I’m not perfect, and I’m always willing to learn. If you do offer criticism though, I’d really appreciate it if you could do so constructively (ie., no name-calling, please). Thanks…

You can find me on Twitter and on Facebook.

~ Dr. Dee Rajska, C. Psych.

*Fine print: Please feel free to share the link to this blog wherever you think it might be helpful! Reading this blog is a good start, but it’s no substitute for professional help. It takes a different kind of courage to admit to yourself that you’re struggling. PTSD is not a sign of failure – it’s a sign that you’ve been through a lot, and have tried to stay strong for too long. If you need help – you’re in some pretty great company. Reach out, and give yourself a chance to feel better.

**Really fine print: The content of Coming Back Home is copyrighted; please feel free to share the link, but do not copy and paste content. Unless otherwise noted, all original photography on Coming Back Home is the copyrighted property of Larry M. Jaipaul; please do not copy images without permission.

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Holidays, Part 3: Why is it so hard at this time of year?

So – how’s everybody doing?

Look folks – there’s a million reasons that this time of year is so hard on people. But in a nutshell, here’s how it works: the rest of the year, you may be struggling. You may have PTSD, or depression, or a disability or chronic pain. Even if you don’t, you might have financial worries, or your marriage might be teetering on the brink, or you may be estranged from your family. Hey – your life might be like a country song, and you may have checked off everything on this list and then some…

But, the rest of the year, it’s easier to see that other people’s lives aren’t perfect either, even if it feels like they aren’t struggling anywhere near as much as you are.

Then – along come The Holidays. Christmas carols start playing nonstop on the radio, and suddenly – it seems like all these other people start getting happy and excited about the holidays. It feels like overnight, the whole world took a magic happy pill or something.

It feels like everyone but *YOU* got the happy pill; they’re all suddenly excited about the holidays, and you’re still feeling exactly as awful as you were before.  Only now, seeing how happy everyone else seems just makes you feel all the more alone. It was easier to blend in and mask your misery somehow when everyone else was just “okay”; when they’re this happy, it might make you feel like you just stick out like a sore thumb. And it all just reminds you of how much you’re hurting.

…And that, in a nutshell, is why this time of year is so hard on people who are struggling to begin with.

So – what do you do about it?

First – and most importantly – realize that this feeling, like you’re all  alone and no one else understands how you’re feeling – that’s part of how depression messes with your head. The fact is – $11 billion was spent on antidepressants last year, and they were the most frequently dispensed medication.

Folks – that’s a whole lot of people who don’t feel happy, and they all feel worse at this time of the year.

You are far from alone. But, depression makes you feel alone. It makes you feel lonely; but, it also makes you want to crawl under a rock and be all alone.

So, coping is a gentle balance – it involves not pushing yourself to do too much, but also not feeding the depression monster by giving in and just crawling under a rock.

There’s no quick, easy fixes – especially at this time of year. But, it’s a seasonal thing, so it’s especially important that you don’t stop doing things that were working for you before, and reach out for help when you need it.

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I’d love to have you share your thoughts, comments, and questions. If you do post a comment, please don’t give specific details of your trauma – these may be triggering to another reader. If you’d like to offer criticism, I’ll take it – I know I’m not perfect, and I’m always willing to learn. If you do offer criticism though, I’d really appreciate it if you could do so constructively (ie., no name-calling, please). Thanks…

You can find me on Twitter and on Facebook.

~ Dr. Dee Rajska, C. Psych.

*Fine print: Please feel free to share the link to this blog wherever you think it might be helpful! Reading this blog is a good start, but it’s no substitute for professional help. It takes a different kind of courage to admit to yourself that you’re struggling. PTSD is not a sign of failure – it’s a sign that you’ve been through a lot, and have tried to stay strong for too long. If you need help – you’re in some pretty great company. Reach out, and give yourself a chance to feel better.

**Really fine print: The content of Coming Back Home is copyrighted; please feel free to share the link, but do not copy and paste content. Unless otherwise noted, all original photography on Coming Back Home is copyrighted. The photo gracing today’s post was taken by Murray Chappell, and I’d like to thank him for generously allowing me to use his work. Please do not copy photographs from Coming Back Home without permission.

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PTSD: Dissociative Symptoms

Holy feedback!

As soon as I put up the last blog post, there was a stampede of comments and emails saying, “Yes! Talk about this more!!!”

Okay.

So we left off talking about how the “freeze” response is part of the fight/flight/freeze reflex. It’s how we defend ourselves when we can’t fight or run away; it dulls the pain of whatever is happening.

Let’s put this together with some information we have from before, about how reflex learns: it learns that any reminder of the trauma is a sign of danger.

So – a reminder of your trauma might set off a “freeze” reaction.

Here’s what it feels like: you might feel like you’re not really in your body so it’s not really happening to you (this is called depersonalization); or you might feel like the whole thing is a dream, a movie, or happening in slow motion like it’s not real (this is called derealization). You might feel like you’re just losing chunks of time – ‘waking up’ and not knowing how you got to be wherever you are (this is called, WTF just happened to me?).

Here’s what it feels like to have PTSD do this to your life: it’s terrifying. You feel like you have no control over your mind or body. You want to do everything you can to grip onto reality, but you get sucked into this rabbit hole. You might feel angry at your mind for betraying you this way.  You might feel guilty, weak, and ashamed for not being “strong enough” to somehow hang on tighter and not let this happen to you. It can leave you feeling traumatized again and again, every time it happens, because being helpless to stop yourself from dissociating can remind you of being helpless to stop your trauma when it happened. You might feel depressed, useless, worthless.

…Boy, sounds like fun, doesn’t it?

Lookit – I’m not gonna try and tell you that getting out of that hot mess is easy, quick, or painless. It’s none of those. If your PTSD includes this stuff, research suggests that, as far as PTSD goes, you won the bleeping jackpot.

What makes it worse is, every time it happens, you might feel disappointed in yourself, like you should be stronger. This just erodes whatever self-respect you have left. You’d never say stuff like that to a buddy to encourage them when they’re struggling…

You need to start by realizing that this happens to you because you don’t feel safe; so, how you start to fix it, is to work on increasing your sense of safety.

The ability to feel safe is like a muscle – and yours is, well… It’s not so strong. You strengthen it with exercises – stuff like relaxation. Grounding skills. These are your drills: practice this stuff. Be patient with yourself. What you’re trying to accomplish here is very hard work, so give it time.

Finally – you know that fine print I put at the end of every post? You know, the stuff that none of you ever read, because you don’t think there’s anything important under the pretty picture?

Yeah; it says that this blog is not a substitute for therapy. If you’re dealing with PTSD with dissociative symptoms and trying to fix it on your own, it’s a bit like trying to perform open heart surgery on yourself. I’m just sayin’ – there’s help out there. Go get some.

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~ Dr. Dee Rajska, C. Psych.

I’d love to have you share your thoughts, comments, and questions – but before you post, can you take a quick peek at the guidelines? Thanks…

If you’d like to get more updates from me, you can find me on Twitter and on Facebook.

Fine print: Reading this blog is a good start, but if you’re having a hard time, it’s no substitute for getting actual help (like, therapy). It takes a different kind of courage to admit to yourself that you’re struggling, and to seek help. Getting help is not a sign of failure – it’s a sign that you’ve been through a lot, and have tried to stay strong for too long. If you need help – you’re in some pretty great company. Reach out, and give yourself a chance to feel better.

Really fine print: Unless otherwise noted, all original photography on Coming Back Home is copyrighted. The photo gracing today’s post was taken by Larry Jaipaul, and I’d like to thank him for generously allowing me to use his work. Please do not copy photographs from Coming Back Home without permission.

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PTSD: Reflex and The “Freeze” Response

…You know I’m all about feedback, right? You know this is YOUR blog, and I’ll write about whatever you need?

Well – my stats tracker thingy tells me somebody ended up on Coming Back Home by Googling “PTSD + Freeze response”.

And I thought, Huh – I don’t really have a good article on that. I mean, if I was Random Google Person, I’d be a little disappointed.

So – good suggestion, Random Google Person! This post is for you!

If you recall from previous discussions, PTSD is basically a survival reflex stuck in a loop with no off switch. This reflex has three parts, depending on what kind of threat you’re up against:

fight is where you respond to a threat by beating up on it. Military training works to strengthen this part of your survival reflex.

flight is where you run for the hills to get away from the threat.

freeze is what you do when neither of the above is an option.

In this post, we’re going to discuss the freeze response, the way it happens in the face of an actual threat. Next post, we’ll talk about dissociation, which is what happens when the “freeze” reaction gets stuck, like in PTSD or dissociative disorder.

It’s like this: imagine a goldfish.

It’s in a fishbowl. The cat just jumped on the table and stuck his paw into the bowl. What’s the fishy gonna do?

He’s can’t fight off the cat, and he can’t run away, because he’s in a fishbowl. Poor little fishy. The cat is about to enjoy some fresh sushi.

So – what does the fish do? He freezes; freezing helps him feel less pain, both physically and emotionally.

Freezing might feel like time has slowed down; like what’s happening isn’t real; or like he isn’t really there. The goldfish might feel like he’s floating above his body, watching the cat enjoy his sushi.

Feeling this way is a normal reaction to a situation of extreme, life-threatening danger, where you can’t fight and can’t get away.

If you’re a goldfish who’s about to get eaten by a cat, feeling like you’re floating above your body and the whole thing is not really happening is less terrifying, which is why our reflex is built this way.

But – suppose just as the cat is scooping up the goldfish, someone comes along and screams, startling the cat. Poor little fishy lives, but is scarred by this near-death experience: he might get stuck in this “freeze” reaction. He might end up with severe PTSD, and symptoms that we call dissociation. We’ll talk a bit more about that in the next post.

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I’d love to have you share your thoughts, comments, and questions. If you do post a comment, please don’t give specific details of your trauma – these may be triggering to another reader. If you’d like to offer criticism, I’ll take it – I know I’m not perfect, and I’m always willing to learn. If you do offer criticism though, I’d really appreciate it if you could do so constructively (ie., no name-calling, please). Thanks…

You can find me on Twitter and on Facebook.

~ Dr. Dee Rajska, C. Psych.

*Fine print: Please feel free to share the link to this blog wherever you think it might be helpful! Reading this blog is a good start, but it’s no substitute for professional help. It takes a different kind of courage to admit to yourself that you’re struggling. PTSD is not a sign of failure – it’s a sign that you’ve been through a lot, and have tried to stay strong for too long. If you need help – you’re in some pretty great company. Reach out, and give yourself a chance to feel better.

**Really fine print: The content of Coming Back Home is copyrighted; please feel free to share the link, but do not copy and paste content. Unless otherwise noted, all original photography on Coming Back Home is the copyrighted property of Larry M. Jaipaul; please do not copy images without permission.

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Sexual Dysfunction and Relationships, Part I

*Disclaimer: This is a really broad topic, and I’m not a sex therapy expert, so unfortunately, I won’t be able to cover everything that’s relevant. Most of my patients are male and heterosexual, so I’m addressing the topic from that perspective. I don’t mean to leave anyone else out, I just try to stick to writing about what I know.  

So… Judging by the number of pageviews on the last post, it looks like some of you find it less awkward to discuss sexual dysfunction on the blog than in person.

Good – you need to have access to this information, even if you feel too embarrassed to ask about it face-to-face.

You know, I briefly considered writing the last post about Dave the Zebra. I thought, maybe that would be less awkward for people?

However – Dave the Zebra is actually named after Dave the Dude. I value my friendship with Dave the Dude. Somehow, he didn’t like the idea of putting his name in the same sentence as sexual dysfunction, in a blog read by thousands of people. Go figure, eh?

Well – let’s talk about it. (Dave the Dude, you can relax. I’m keeping you totally out of this…)

In the last post, we talked about how and why PTSD can mess up your sex life.

Today, we’re going to discuss how the mess in your sex life can have a ripple effect on the rest of your life.

Sexual dysfunction messes up your relationships, starting with the relationship that you have with yourself.

(Hey – can we try to focus please? I’m talking about the emotional relationship with yourself – not the five-knuckle-shuffle relationship with yourself! …Not that there’s anything wrong with that…)

Look – who you are in bed is part of your identity. You don’t need to go through life being Mr. Don Juan – even if you’re a relatively vanilla kind of dude, you have a sense of how your plumbing works and what you enjoy doing with it.

When that changes, it can have a big impact on how you feel about yourself. We live in a culture where, as a guy, you’re supposed to be obsessed with sex, or so the media would have you believe. So a lot of guys end up feeling like they’re somehow less of a man when stuff like this happens. You might feel angry and ashamed, and try not to think about it.

If you’re a single dude, this might really have an impact on your confidence about getting into a new relationship. You might question whether a woman would want to be with you, if things don’t quite work the way they used to.

(Answer: yes, the right woman would still want to be with you. The right woman would love you for your sense of humour, your smile, and whatever else it is that makes you awesome in her eyes. And you can sweep her off her feet with flowers and chocolates and kisses and dancing and backrubs and… Well, when it actually comes to sex, most women like all that stuff that most guys rush through to get to the main course. So, serve up a really good appetizer, and she won’t really miss the main course, you catch my drift?)

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I’d love to have you share your thoughts, comments, and questions. If you do post a comment, please don’t give specific details of your trauma – these may be triggering to another reader. If you’d like to offer criticism, I’ll take it – I know I’m not perfect, and I’m always willing to learn. If you do offer criticism though, I’d really appreciate it if you could do so constructively (ie., no name-calling, please). Thanks…

You can find me on Twitter and on Facebook.

~ Dr. Dee Rajska, C. Psych.

*Fine print: Please feel free to share the link to this blog wherever you think it might be helpful! Reading this blog is a good start, but it’s no substitute for professional help. It takes a different kind of courage to admit to yourself that you’re struggling. PTSD is not a sign of failure – it’s a sign that you’ve been through a lot, and have tried to stay strong for too long. If you need help – you’re in some pretty great company. Reach out, and give yourself a chance to feel better.

**Really fine print: The content of Coming Back Home is copyrighted; please feel free to share the link, but do not copy and paste content. Unless otherwise noted, all original photography on Coming Back Home is copyrighted. The photo gracing today’s post was taken by Wojtek Rajski, and I’d like to thank him for generously allowing me to use his work. Please do not copy photographs from Coming Back Home without permission.

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Spouses want to know: PTSD and Sexual Dysfunction

So – guess what we’re talking about today? (Go ahead, check the title again). That’s right.

*Disclaimer: This is a really broad topic, so I won’t be able to cover everything that’s relevant. The question was originally asked by a female spouse of a male veteran. Most of my patients are male and heterosexual, so I’m addressing the topic from that perspective. I don’t mean to leave anyone else out, I just try to stick to writing about what I know.

In person, some of the patients that I work with find this really awkward to discuss.

Well – look on the bright side: this is a blog! You don’t have to ask this stuff in person! All the answers, none of the awkwardness!

The research is pretty clear that there’s a link between PTSD and sexual dysfunction. Most studies show that in veterans with PTSD, about 8 to 9 out of every 10 have some sort of sexual dysfunction. That’s much higher than combat veterans without PTSD, and higher than veterans with other mental health diagnoses. “Sexual dysfunction” can be a whole list of different problems – including having less sexual desire; erectile dysfunction; premature ejaculation, or inability to reach orgasm.

8 to 9 out of every ten. That means that, if you have PTSD and you don’t have some sort of sexual dysfunction – you’re the exception.

If you didn’t know that before, then it’s important that you know this about your body, and what PTSD can do to it. It’s not you, it’s not your fault, it’s not because you’re doing something wrong. It’s not your partner’s fault either. Add it to the long list of things you dislike about PTSD.

But – let’s talk about how and why this happens, and then, most importantly, let’s talk about what to do about it.

First, the “why”: remember that PTSD is survival reflex on overdrive; remember how we talked about reflex making all your big muscle groups tense up? Yeah – apparently, your survival reflex doesn’t consider that part of your body as a big muscle… Go figure.

Basically, reflex thinks that anything that doesn’t help you fight or flee is a waste of energy.

PTSD also makes you feel anxious and hyper-alert pretty much all the time, and that makes it hard to get in the mood and stay in the mood for long enough. Many people who have PTSD also feel disconnected and detached from loved ones, and that can make it hard for both partners to get in the right headspace. Increased anger and irritability can also put a damper on your relationship, and that can make the physical part of your relationship suffer too.

…Sounds pretty bad, huh?

Yeah… I know…

It can get better. Not magically, overnight better, but slowly and with some work – it can get better.

(Yes, pills can help. Talk to your doctor about getting some. But don’t expect pills to be a quick, easy, magic cure-all.)

First – go to therapy, and work on learning to manage your PTSD. When you learn more about how to manage your symptoms, this will make a difference.

Next – consider couples therapy. Especially if you’ve been struggling with this stuff for a long time, chances are there’s a lot of misunderstandings and hurt feelings from both of you that are driving a wedge between you. Couples therapy may help you to reconnect and feel closer, and that might help.

Third – don’t give up. Don’t lose hope. As long as you’re willing to try, things can get better.

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I’d love to have you share your thoughts, comments, and questions. If you do post a comment, please don’t give specific details of your trauma – these may be triggering to another reader. If you’d like to offer criticism, I’ll take it – I know I’m not perfect, and I’m always willing to learn. If you do offer criticism though, I’d really appreciate it if you could do so constructively (ie., no name-calling, please). Thanks…

You can find me on Twitter and on Facebook.

~ Dr. Dee Rajska, C. Psych.

*Fine print: Please feel free to share the link to this blog wherever you think it might be helpful! Reading this blog is a good start, but it’s no substitute for professional help. It takes a different kind of courage to admit to yourself that you’re struggling. PTSD is not a sign of failure – it’s a sign that you’ve been through a lot, and have tried to stay strong for too long. If you need help – you’re in some pretty great company. Reach out, and give yourself a chance to feel better.

**Really fine print: The content of Coming Back Home is copyrighted; please feel free to share the link, but do not copy and paste content. Unless otherwise noted, all original photography on Coming Back Home is copyrighted. The photo gracing today’s post was taken by Wojtek Rajski, and I’d like to thank him for generously allowing me to use his work. Please do not copy photographs from Coming Back Home without permission.

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Spouses want to know: “He doesn’t want to talk about his PTSD”

Well, hello again, everyone!

Today’s question is: “He doesn’t want to talk about it [his PTSD], or tell people. But I don’t think he has anything to be ashamed of, and I think it will help people understand why he is acting this way. What should I do?”

First, a disclaimer: I usually try to write in a way that applies as widely as possible. This time, I’m answering a reader’s question, so not everyone might relate. I know that not everyone who has PTSD is male, or married. If you have a different question you’d like me to answer in a post, please let me know.

This reader’s point of view goes sort of like this:

“Honey, you have nothing to be ashamed of; you didn’t choose to get sick, this happened to you. It’s no more shameful than a physical injury. I want to tell people so that when you need your space, they can be more understanding.”

Makes perfect sense, right? So – why is her husband (and maybe yours) so adamant that he doesn’t want anyone to know?

Because being able to talk about it happens at a point in his healing called acceptance, and he’s not there yet.

Because he’s still used to being Superman, and it’s hard to wrap his head around the idea of being this “sick guy” who needs to be fussed over.

Because he’s sick and tired of being sick and tired, and talking about it just reminds him when sometimes, he’d just like to forget.

Because talking about a problem is the way we women naturally tend to cope. Guys like to fix things, and if they can’t fix it, they don’t want to talk about it.

Because facts and feelings are two different things – so his head may understand that this illness is not his fault, but he may still feel shame, guilt, and anger at himself for “allowing” this to happen to him.  He may feel broken or weak, and helpless that he can’t just “buck up” and shake this thing off.

If he’s sick enough that he can’t work right now, he may be struggling with the fact that he can’t work to provide for his family.

If his illness has led to out-of-character temper outbursts that have frightened you and the kids, he may have feelings of shame and guilt about that, too.

And thinking about it all is just so painful and overwhelming, that he just can’t. Not because he’s being to be stubborn, but because it’s all just too much.

So… That leaves you, the spouse, in a bit of a conundrum: his behaviour is different, and maybe he can’t attend family functions, so friends and family are asking what’s wrong. Yes, it would be a lot easier if he was ready to talk about it – but he’s not there yet, and pressuring him won’t speed his healing process.

So – what do you do?

You take care of you. This is tough on you – so get support from other spouses who can relate, and consider getting some counselling yourself, to help you cope.

You can be helpful by doing other things, like offering a smile or a hug. If he’s okay with it, maybe the two of you can talk with his therapist about what might be fun, trigger-free things for the two of you to do as a couple, or things to do as a family – because making life seem a little more “normal” might be just the ray of hope that both of you need to see that life can go on.

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I’d love to have you share your thoughts, comments, and questions. If you do post a comment, please don’t give specific details of your trauma – these may be triggering to another reader. If you’d like to offer criticism, I’ll take it – I know I’m not perfect, and I’m always willing to learn. If you do offer criticism though, I’d really appreciate it if you could do so constructively (ie., no name-calling, please). Thanks…

You can find me on Twitter and on Facebook.

~ Dr. Dee Rajska, C. Psych.

*Fine print: Please feel free to share the link to this blog wherever you think it might be helpful! Reading this blog is a good start, but it’s no substitute for professional help. It takes a different kind of courage to admit to yourself that you’re struggling. PTSD is not a sign of failure – it’s a sign that you’ve been through a lot, and have tried to stay strong for too long. If you need help – you’re in some pretty great company. Reach out, and give yourself a chance to feel better.

**Really fine print: The content of Coming Back Home is copyrighted; please feel free to share the link, but do not copy and paste content. Unless otherwise noted, all original photography on Coming Back Home is copyrighted. The photo gracing today’s post was taken by Wojtek Rajski, and I’d like to thank him for generously allowing me to use his work. Please do not copy photographs from Coming Back Home without permission.

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Spouses want to know: PTSD, Withdrawing, and How to Respond

Today’s question is: “What’s the best way to deal with withdrawal by a spouse with PTSD – call them on it, or what????”

As luck would have it, just as I was sitting down to write this post, I also received the flipside of the question:

“My wife more or less just gets mad at me when I leave the room to cool down; she says I’m running away to hide… How can I help her understand?”

If you’re the spouse of someone who has PTSD, it can be lonely and frustrating to be married to someone who keeps pulling a disappearing act. Even at the best of times, you might feel rejected and pushed away. At the worst of times, when your partner takes off while the kids are screaming and dinner’s burning, you might feel downright abandoned that your partner isn’t pulling their weight.

An important part of how you cope is to get some support for YOU – whether that means therapy, peer support, family or a babysitter to help if you have young kids, whatever you might need. You’ve got a lot on your plate, and you need to be able to vent to someone who won’t judge you or your partner.

As a spouse, you have every right to feel angry and frustrated – BUT, remind yourself that you’re angry and frustrated with your partner’s illness, not with your partner. If your partner is withdrawing because they are overwhelmed or triggered, this is very different from running away because they’re a lazy, selfish jerk who won’t lift a finger to help out, or because they don’t care about your feelings. Don’t confuse illness with selfishness; don’t treat one as if it was the other.

On the other hand, the stuff that’s going on inside the head of a person with PTSD is more than most of us can imagine. If it sometimes seems like your spouse with PTSD is only going through the motions of day-to-day life, it’s because at that moment, that might be the best they can do. Chances are, they realize that they aren’t there enough for you, and they carry a lot of guilt and shame about not being able to do more. They may be feeling helpless, worthless, and angry that they can’t do more to beat this thing. Feeling this way doesn’t help them get a leg up on coping – it just pushes them down more.

The best way to try to cope is together, as a team. Realize that you’re not angry at each other – you’re both angry at the PTSD, and at what it’s doing to your family. Thinking this way puts you on the same side, and that makes it easier to support each other.

Here’s some statements to try out:

Spouse of person with PTSD: “I know you’re doing your best; I’m not blaming you. I just hate that this happened to you. I hate that it gets in the way of things you would like to do.”

Person with PTSD: “I hate that it gets so bad that sometimes crawling into my shell is all I can do. I wish I could just shake this thing off. I know it’s not fair to you.”

Hug each other. Support each other. It won’t magically fix things, but it will get easier if you and your spouse feel like you’re on the same team, and you have each other’s back.

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I’d love to have you share your thoughts, comments, and questions. If you do post a comment, please don’t give specific details of your trauma – these may be triggering to another reader. If you’d like to offer criticism, I’ll take it – I know I’m not perfect, and I’m always willing to learn. If you do offer criticism though, I’d really appreciate it if you could do so constructively (ie., no name-calling, please). Thanks…

You can find me on Twitter and on Facebook.

~ Dr. Dee Rajska, C. Psych.

*Fine print: Please feel free to share the link to this blog wherever you think it might be helpful! Reading this blog is a good start, but it’s no substitute for professional help. It takes a different kind of courage to admit to yourself that you’re struggling. PTSD is not a sign of failure – it’s a sign that you’ve been through a lot, and have tried to stay strong for too long. If you need help – you’re in some pretty great company. Reach out, and give yourself a chance to feel better.

**Really fine print: The content of Coming Back Home is copyrighted; please feel free to share the link, but do not copy and paste content. Unless otherwise noted, all original photography on Coming Back Home is copyrighted. The photo gracing today’s post was taken by Wojtek Rajski, and I’d like to thank him for generously allowing me to use his work. Please do not copy photographs from Coming Back Home without permission.

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Spouses want to know: “Where does the anger come from?”

I have a few more questions from spouses, and this is a really important one.

The answer is pretty straight forward: PTSD is basically the fight/flight/freeze reflex gone into overdrive, and anger is part of  the “fight” part of that reflex. You might remember that we discussed anger in this post.

Well then… that would make for a really short blog post, wouldn’t it?

If you’re reading this, then anger has probably had an impact on your life. I’m going to talk about it in more detail below, and that might be hard to read.

So – don’t go any further if you’re having a bad day and don’t need to be reminded of how anger has made life worse. Save it for another day. Otherwise, find a nice quiet spot where you won’t be disturbed. Set aside time to do a relaxation exercise when you’re done reading this – here‘s one that I’ve posted previously. Here‘s another.

Gee, I’m being a little bossy today, aren’t I?

If you’re just waiting for me to tell you to go pee before you read on, don’t worry. I’ll restrain myself.

Ready?

Okay.

If you’re a spouse, then you need to know where the anger does NOT come from: it doesn’t come from you, or what you said, or because you’re making the wrong thing for dinner. It’s not coming from the kids playing too loudly. It isn’t your fault. It’s easy to lose your confidence and start to blame yourself.

It’s also easy to get frustrated and blame your spouse – the anger is not coming from him/her either.

Look – you didn’t marry an idiot. (Well – if you did, then, this blog can’t help you with that…)

But – if you didn’t marry an idiot, then your spouse didn’t just magically become an angry jackass overnight for the fun of getting under your skin. PTSD makes a person feel like they’re under attack all the time, and anger is part of the reflex of reacting to threat.

PTSD is an injury. Anger is one of the ways that this injury hurts. It hurts anyone who might be on the receiving end of that anger – spouse, kids, random clerk at the grocery store.

It hurts the person with PTSD; they don’t choose to act like this, and a moment after they say something hurtful, scream at someone, or put their fist through the wall – they feel terrible about it.

As the spouse, you feel caught between trying to understand that this is an injury, but also feeling frustrated and angry that they can’t just cut it out.

Understanding is the first tool in making things better: the person with PTSD needs to understand that their anger is coming from their PTSD, and not from anything you did. So the solution is to manage their anger, not manage you. And as the spouse, you also need to know that their anger is coming from their PTSD, and not from them being a jerk. So the solution is to help them manage their anger, and to take care of yourself, because this is a lot for you to deal with too.

How’re ya doing? I warned you – it got a little heavy. If you feel a bit like this post punched you in the gut today, please take a minute to look after yourself. You don’t even have to scroll back up to find the hyperlinks to the relaxation exercises – here‘s the woods. Here‘s the water.

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I’d love to have you share your thoughts, comments, and questions. If you do post a comment, please don’t give specific details of your trauma – these may be triggering to another reader. If you’d like to offer criticism, I’ll take it – I know I’m not perfect, and I’m always willing to learn. If you do offer criticism though, I’d really appreciate it if you could do so constructively (ie., no name-calling, please). Thanks…

You can find me on Twitter and on Facebook.

~ Dr. Dee Rajska, C. Psych.

*Fine print: Please feel free to share the link to this blog wherever you think it might be helpful! Reading this blog is a good start, but it’s no substitute for professional help. It takes a different kind of courage to admit to yourself that you’re struggling. PTSD is not a sign of failure – it’s a sign that you’ve been through a lot, and have tried to stay strong for too long. If you need help – you’re in some pretty great company. Reach out, and give yourself a chance to feel better.

**Really fine print: The content of Coming Back Home is copyrighted; please feel free to share the link, but do not copy and paste content. Unless otherwise noted, all original photography on Coming Back Home is copyrighted. The photo gracing today’s post was taken by Murray Chappell, and I’d like to thank him for generously allowing me to use his work. Please do not copy photographs from Coming Back Home without permission.

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Spouses want to know: “Will he always have PTSD?”

You may have gathered from the title of today’s post that I’m throwing something new into the mix. A few days ago, a support group for spouses asked me to answer a few questions about PTSD. I’m grateful for their permission to post the answers here, so everyone who might be wondering about this stuff can jump into the discussion.

Of all the questions they asked, I wanted to address this one first because I get asked some form of it almost every day – people ask, “Will I ever get better?”, or “Will I always be like this?”

I’d love to give you a money-back guarantee that everything will be just fine.

The honest answer though, is that how much better you will get (or your spouse or loved one will get) depends on a number of factors. Some of them we can predict; others, we can’t.

Single trauma events in an otherwise mentally healthy person, treated quickly after the event, tend to have the best outcomes. In many cases, people can make a full recovery from these types of injuries.

On the other hand, if you’ve had decades of trauma, and it’s taken several years to find a knowledgeable practitioner that you feel comfortable working with – it’s gonna be a longer, steeper, more grueling climb uphill for you. That doesn’t mean that you can’t do it, and no one has a crystal ball that can predict your specific outcome. In fact, my personal experience is that some of the patients who came to me in the worst shape are the ones who have made progress in leaps and bounds, once they’re given the right tools to do so.

Most importantly – even if you can’t be fully cured, you can get better. In many cases, you can get a lot better.

Nothing we do in therapy can take the awful thing(s) that happened to you and make them unhappen. However – how those experiences impact you now, is something we can work on. If you have a lengthy trauma history, and it’s hard for you to trust or hope, then that work might need to happen very slowly and very gently, so it doesn’t overwhelm you. If you’re a spouse trying to be supportive, it may be hard to be patient, because for the first while it might seem like therapy isn’t making any difference.

Here’s your best bet for trying to get better: find a skilled, patient, knowledgeable therapist whom you feel comfortable working with, who won’t give up on you. Let them know when the tools they give you don’t work for you – getting better is a partnership, and finding what works for you can take some trial and error.

Good therapy has two parts: tools that help you manage your symptoms, and ways to try and heal your trauma. If you and your therapist have a good partnership and you are willing to work hard on your recovery, then you will start to see a difference.

It might take a long time and a lot of hard work to get a lot better. But, “a lot better” might mean that you can manage your symptoms most of the time, and the stuff that happened might not bother you as much anymore. Worth a try, no?

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I’d love to have you share your thoughts, comments, and questions. If you do post a comment, please don’t give specific details of your trauma – these may be triggering to another reader. If you’d like to offer criticism, I’ll take it – I know I’m not perfect, and I’m always willing to learn. If you do offer criticism though, I’d really appreciate it if you could do so constructively (ie., no name-calling, please). Thanks…

You can find me on Twitter and on Facebook.

~ Dr. Dee Rajska, C. Psych.

*Fine print: Please feel free to share the link to this blog wherever you think it might be helpful! Reading this blog is a good start, but it’s no substitute for professional help. It takes a different kind of courage to admit to yourself that you’re struggling. PTSD is not a sign of failure – it’s a sign that you’ve been through a lot, and have tried to stay strong for too long. If you need help – you’re in some pretty great company. Reach out, and give yourself a chance to feel better.

**Really fine print: The content of Coming Back Home is copyrighted; please feel free to share the link, but do not copy and paste content. Unless otherwise noted, all original photography on Coming Back Home is the copyrighted property of Larry M. Jaipaul; please do not copy images without permission.

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Depression: Defending Yourself Against The Bully Inside Your Head

So – how ya doin’, folks?

Has your depression magically disappeared from the couple pearls of wisdom I shared last week?

No, of course not. I hope you didn’t expect it to. Because if you read last week’s post and thought, “That’s easy, I can do this overnight”, and then started beating up on yourself when it didn’t work out that way – folks, that’s just your depression messing with you again. Digging yourself out of depression takes a lot of practice and hard work.

See – depression would be hard enough to deal with on its own. To make things worse, it often travels with friends, like PTSD or chronic pain. Or, you might be dealing with the trifecta: depression, PTSD and chronic pain.

Depression often sets in after something bad has happened in your life: stuff like going through a trauma; suffering a serious injury that changes how you can live your life; losing your job; losing a loved one; losing your marriage. You know, all the stuff that they write country songs about…

Then – just to be mean – depression starts comparing the new, not-so-improved you to the old you. And then, it starts nagging on you about how new-you should be able to live up to all the stuff that old-you was able to do. It keeps telling you how it’s so simple, and what’s wrong with you, you should be able to just suck it up, pull yourself together, and get on with it. And if you can’t do it, then depression starts telling you that you’re worthless, useless, and you should feel guilt and shame.

Honestly – depression is feeding you a bunch of… um, fresh manure.

When you can’t do the stuff you used to do because you’re sick, it’s healthy to grieve that loss. If you love to swim and you missed a whole summer of swimming because your leg was in a cast, you might feel frustrated and disappointed. But there’s a difference between those feelings, and calling yourself stupid and lazy for not making your bone heal faster. There’s a big difference between disliking the circumstances, and unfairly blaming yourself for them.

Depression also doesn’t give you any credit for how hard it is to actually live with depression. Stop for a second and consider that there are days when you deserve a medal just for getting out of bed.

Imagine you’re watching speed skating on TV (why speed skating? It just popped into my head, and it’ll work with my example, so let’s just roll with it).

There’s a bunch of guys racing and they’re all ridiculously super fast. And then, waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay behind them, there’s this one dude who’s going so slow, he’s barely putting one foot in front of the other.

Oh – except he’s carrying a backpack, filled with 500 pounds of rocks.

So – who do you respect more, the bunch of dudes at the front, or the one guy managing to stay on his feet with the giant bag full of rocks?

(Hint: Vote for the guy with the rocks, he’s pretty incredible.)

And if you vote for him – try to also realize that all the stuff you’re dealing with is a lot like carrying around a bag with 500 pounds of rocks. And try to respect  yourself a little more.)

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I’d love to have you share your thoughts, comments, and questions. If you do post a comment, please don’t give specific details of your trauma – these may be triggering to another reader. If you’d like to offer criticism, I’ll take it – I know I’m not perfect, and I’m always willing to learn. If you do offer criticism though, I’d really appreciate it if you could do so constructively (ie., no name-calling, please). Thanks…

You can find me on Twitter and on Facebook.

~ Dr. Dee Rajska, C. Psych.

*Fine print: Please feel free to share the link to this blog wherever you think it might be helpful! Reading this blog is a good start, but it’s no substitute for professional help. It takes a different kind of courage to admit to yourself that you’re struggling. PTSD is not a sign of failure – it’s a sign that you’ve been through a lot, and have tried to stay strong for too long. If you need help – you’re in some pretty great company. Reach out, and give yourself a chance to feel better.

**Really fine print: The content of Coming Back Home is copyrighted; please feel free to share the link, but do not copy and paste content. Unless otherwise noted, all original photography on Coming Back Home is copyrighted. The photo gracing today’s post was taken by Benjamin Yost, and I’d like to thank him for generously allowing me to use his work. Please do not copy photographs from Coming Back Home without permission.

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More on Depression: The Bully Inside Your Head

Hi again!

So – last week, we talked a bit about depression.

(Well okay – I talked about depression; I seem to do most of the talking around here. You know I welcome your comments, right? Feel free to start a discussion…)

Anyhow – I was saying that your brain runs on juice, and that depression sucks out all the juice that makes your brain run.

Basically – depression is like a big bully inside your head. It sits there and calls you names. It tells you stuff like “you’re useless”, or “you’re worthless”, or “you’re not good enough”. It compares the person you are now to the “old you”. It tells you to feel guilty and ashamed of who you are now.

Depression is so good at messing with you because not only does it tell you all that stuff – it also makes you believe that nonsense.

Don’t get sucked in!!!

Unless this is the first post that you’ve read on this blog, then you probably realize by now that I repeat myself when I have something important to say. I said this last week, but I’m saying it again: Depression is an illness; it would be great if there was a “juice gauge” on the side of your head, like a gas gauge in your car, so you could actually see when your brain is running low on juice – then it would be easier to accept that depression is real.

Sadly, there’s no juice gauge. Instead, you’ll just have to trust me. (I’m some chick you met on the internet, so trusting me has got to be a good idea, right?)

Depression is an illness, not a choice. Here’s a couple of ways to fight back:

– “if it were a physical illness“: Ask yourself this: If you were physically ill and not able to get stuff done, would you be saying nasty stuff to yourself about it? No, of course not. You’d be annoyed and frustrated that you’re sick, but you wouldn’t blame yourself. Well, depression is a physical illness – it’s a juice deficiency, and that part is physical. You didn’t ask for this. So try to quit beating up on yourself about it.

– “if it were happening to a friend“: Ask yourself this: If one of your friends were struggling with this, would you be telling them that they’re useless and worthless? If you have peer support, you probably know some buddies who struggle with this stuff. When they do, you probably tell them you’ve been there too, to take it one day at a time, and to do their best and take it easy on themselves.

You say the nice stuff to your buddies because that’s supportive; you say that mean stuff to yourself because that’s depression.  Talking to yourself like you’re talking to a buddy is a way to cheat depression and offer yourself some support. If you can offer yourself some support, you might be able to put some juice back in your tank, so you feel up to doing more stuff, and slowly digging your way out of depression.

Sounds so simple, right? Yeah, well simple and easy are two different things, and this is going to be a LOT of work. For a lot of folks – too much to do on your own. If you’re struggling to get better on your own, don’t just sit there and tell yourself you should be able to do this alone – that’s your depression bullying you again. Most folks can’t do this on their own, and you don’t have to. Get some peer support, and then get yourself to therapy. It’ll help you get better.

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I’d love to have you share your thoughts, comments, and questions. If you do post a comment, please don’t give specific details of your trauma – these may be triggering to another reader. If you’d like to offer criticism, I’ll take it – I know I’m not perfect, and I’m always willing to learn. If you do offer criticism though, I’d really appreciate it if you could do so constructively (ie., no name-calling, please). Thanks…

You can find me on Twitter and on Facebook.

~ Dr. Dee Rajska, C. Psych.

*Fine print: Please feel free to share the link to this blog wherever you think it might be helpful! Reading this blog is a good start, but it’s no substitute for professional help. It takes a different kind of courage to admit to yourself that you’re struggling. PTSD is not a sign of failure – it’s a sign that you’ve been through a lot, and have tried to stay strong for too long. If you need help – you’re in some pretty great company. Reach out, and give yourself a chance to feel better.

**Really fine print: The content of Coming Back Home is copyrighted; please feel free to share the link, but do not copy and paste content. Unless otherwise noted, all original photography on Coming Back Home is copyrighted. The photo gracing today’s post was taken by Murray Chappell, and I’d like to thank him for generously allowing me to use his work. Please do not copy photographs from Coming Back Home without permission.

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