I've been working hard on a research paper I've been writing and will be presenting this April at a conference. In the process of research and writing, while reading a 17th century English pamphlet, I cam across a description that resonated, but I am not certain that this connects with trauma. Perhaps, since it deals with a historical aspect, at least within a Christian-centric context, it does. There is at least one historian/ literature researcher who has made a connection between historic Judaism, Freud, and PTSD (Cathy Caruth, I think?), so it's not hugely unusual for there to exist discourse on this. Here's what I found: in this pamphlet, there is a reference to Christians (within the 17th century context, and in England, remember) being 'murderers', since they - as all Christians were - descended from the original 'murderers', Adam and Eve. The argument is, then, that since Adam and Eve committed the original sin, in the Garden of Eden, and did so knowingly, they 'murdered' Christ. Christ had - after all - ONLY come to be manifest in human form as a necessary consequence of their actions, and his fleshly presence meant his crucifixion. There would have been no other possible outcome of their actions. Humans since Adam and Eve, then, carried the same burden as murderers in the eyes of the divine. Startling stuff, really. So, then, aren't we all murderers, within the Christian context? On a different note --- one perspective I have encountered within the research I do on PTSD, within history, is that which attempts to determine why PTSD/PTSS [Post-Traumatic Stress Syndrome] symptoms continue AND why, in tandem, folks who 'have' PTSD/PTSS, seem to gravitate toward media coverage of traumatic events/ catastrophes of all kinds. The 'theory' is that once the PTSD/PTSS has fixed itself within a person (that's a weird way of describing it, now that I think of it), the brain (?) is 'comfortable' with the re-triggering of its own trauma symptoms. This is really fascinating to me. I think I've mentioned in past posts that when I am looking to spend time on something research-relevant, but don't want to engage in note taking, or intense research reading, I'll spend time surfing the internet, looking for the latest video or text examples of human reactions to traumatic events. Since 9/11, for instance, there have been more cell phone and personal videos of the events in New York City, posted online. Even though I know I risk experiencing intense and distressing dreams/nightmares about the events of 9/11 by reviewing these latest online posts, I still look for them, and view them. Why is that? I've often thought that this is odd, but couldn't really determine exactly how odd it was. I wondered if I should be worried about this behavior. It doesn't occur often, at all, but that it occurs at all is confusing and distressing. Does it mean that I am not 'healed' of my own PTSD/PTSS? Does it mean that I'm to blame for my PTSD/PTSS? Does it mean that there is something 'wrong' with me? I'm beginning to think that this behavior is part of the PTSD/PTSS, since it might be an aspect of 'flashback' cycles. Time to head out . . . more later.

2016 and more thoughts

It's now February, 2016, and looking back into the past year or so, I'm struck by the very many challenges and changes this past year brought. My husband and I were talking a bit about this yesterday, and we both agreed that it was a 'crappy' year, in general. I don't tend to think of a temporal span of time as being 'crappy', or 'great', I guess. A year is a year, it's 12 months, and what happens INSIDE that year might well be pretty fiercely crappy, at times, for sure, but the year itself isn't anything. Where is PTSD in this past year, for me? For others? For society in general? This is an enormous question! I can state right now that I've noted a MUCH greater 'presence' within societal discourse of the language surrounding PTSD. IN the mainstream media, for example, there appears to be more frequent references to trauma, and particularly Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder/Syndrome. It's unfortunate (to say the least) that the context of such references is most often that of gun violence, murder/suicides, and curiousity (only) around the behaviors of men and women returning from combat situations (while not referencing trauma arising from other realities - domestic violence, Post-Partum Depression, exposure to violence in neighborhoods, bullying (both among children and among adults), and violent crimes such as rape and assault, and natural catastrophes). I mention 'unfortunate' here NOT to minimize the traumatic experiences and the PTSD among military veterans, but only to highlight that there are many thousands of people who suffer from PTSD, without coming from military theaters. So, the more frequent mention of PTSD is, overall, still, a good thing, in my view. The more often the societal discourse 'registers' the existence of PTSD, the more thoroughly society in general is exposed to its reality.

Back to posting!

So, it's been a long while since I last posted here! It seems like I've been under water for several months, just trying to get above the surface of work-life, really. I was - until just last week -the head of an academic department at a university, so much of my life has been one of absorption into the pressures and worries of departmental/program/university issues. Now that THAT role is over, I can return to the life of an academic - an instructor, researcher, colleague. Ahhhhhhh...... I'm certain that over time I will discover the legacy of this past three years, in all facets of my work/career life, but also the legacy within my own self-definition, and within my home and family relationships. I'll also discover much more of the impact PTSD has had on my performance as department head, and the role this syndrome plays on my life AFTER this administrative role. I've discovered thus far that my private life really was significantly effected by my absorption into the administrative life at the university. This isn't necessarily entirely bad, nor is it entirely good. What is certainly NOT good is the strain that was put on my family relationships, resulting from the priority I placed over the past three years on performing perfectly as department head. In fact, the inclination I know -throughout at least the first two years as head - was to be a 'hero' of sorts for the department, and for the faculty within that department. Perhaps being the 'champion' in this way resulted in some good things - I can't tell at this point. My colleagues never once articulated a desire that I (or any head) be that 'champion' or 'hero', to be sure. Why did I think I had to be this? Why did I think this way? Is that a manifestation of PTSD? There are many more questions to ask ---- more to research. I can now return to my research into the history of PTSD (or, the syndrome or spectrum that is this disorder), and the history of trauma/ memory/ catastrophe awareness and recollection. I'm eager to get back to this area of research, and to learn, and share much, much more. More soon!

Memory 'erasing' and recovery from trauma?

IN the last week or so, I listened to an interview with a researcher in Ontario, I *think* at the University of Western Ontario, on CBC (Canadian Broadcasting Corporation). It was a case where I think I had heard about some of the theories behind the research at some point a few years back, and the story of it had intrigued me since then. The researcher was being interviewed on some recent work on the brain, and how memories of traumatic events can be manipulated in some way, perhaps even 'erasing' them. Research has indicated that there may be - if there isn't already - medical/neurological processes available to essentially erase a trauma-causing memory from the brain of a person suffering with Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder. The CBC interview host was aware of current discussion on this research, and its implications, pointing to a question of whether more damage would be done to a person's overall memory functions if such a procedure were implemented. What's more, the question must be raised about the inherent value of even the most horrific of memories. I have PTSD, stemming from childhood and an event as an adult, and I am not sure if I would opt to remove those memory/ events from my brain, if the procedure were there. Perhaps that is because my trauma and the ensuing depression, and anxiety, and repercussions on my ability to trust, and have relationships, have been the focus of considerable psychiatric and psychological help. I am also 'high-functioning', able to function well daily, and to aim for success, as well as to visualize successful outcomes and a future. For others, the possibility of erasing memory -or memories - might be the means to true health, to being able to function at all. There is no doubt at all that PTSD can sap life, can eat away at function, and that it 'traps' people, paralyzing them in a state of immobility (at all levels - physical, intellectual, cognitive, relational). The researcher in the interview pointed out that a person with PTSD isn't really remembering a memory, as much as they are actually RELIVING the event. Their brain and body goes 'back there', they ARE there. It is not the same as a fond or even no-emotion-involved remembering of some event which was not generally stressful, or traumatic. Reliving traumatic events is HORRIBLE. My brain, my eyes, my sight, are all really there - even though I am sitting in conversation with someone in a restaurant. Would I choose to have one of my traumatic 'relivings' removed? Would you? Must go for now ---- have a flu bug or something.

It's been a crazy busy couple of weeks, with the beginning of the Fall term here. All the while, though, I've continued to think of this blog, and what I can share, in the context of memory, trauma, PTSD, and history. I wonder sometimes why - or, really, how - I ended up interested in the aspects of trauma and PTSD in the historical context. I also wonder whether there is validity in even looking for trauma and PTSD in the distant past. After all, the field of Psychiatry itself didn't have acknowledged existence and status as a legitimate field of study until the 20th century, and PTSD was - and is still - a conglomeration of symptoms, behaviours, labels, interpretations and so on. I've mentioned previously a work by Allan Young, and the inventing of PTSD, in which he points to a long process of the construction of the label "Post-traumatic Stress Disorder", as individuals across several fields and disciplines wrestled with the assortment of symptoms, behaviours and illnesses which seemed to be connected together. Young points out that in the construction of this label, the process of construction was interwoven with the writing and editing of the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders (the DSM), in its revisions and publication. One very critical point he - and others - have made is that PTSD itself may be largely, if not only, and 'invention'; the result of a process of determining 1) whether various discrete symptoms were in fact neurologically/ mentally/ physiologically and definitely connected, and 2) if they were, was there in fact a single malady/ syndrome at work, which could be labelled in such a way as to acknowledge the reality of the syndrome and the multiplicity of symptoms/manifestations within it. It may well be, he and others have pointed out, that PTSD is really a label which is the product of invention, based on a perceived harmony throughout and between an assortment of symptoms. The symptoms range widely: hyper-alertness, anxiety, depression, flashbacks, intrusive memories, nightmares, heart palpitations, rapid breathing, isolation of oneself, feelings of detachment and 'numbing', inability to remember aspects of the traumatic events (s), sense of a limited future, hyper-irritability,difficulty concentrating. Taken each on their own, these symptoms may well appear in contexts completely apart from anything psycho-physiological, and may well not indicate any mental disorder or syndrome. An individual experiencing many or most of these symptoms concurrently, though, is considered a candidate for the diagnosis of PTSD. Each individual symptom may be purely a product of something solely physiological - a disease, for example, such as high blood pressure, or of straightforward (though by no means painless or 'simple') depression. When symptoms in this list manifest within the a single person, within a set period of time, are debilitating, impede 'normal' functioning, and are within a context of the experience of a traumatic event (whether recent or in the past), psychiatrists note the potential for a diagnosis of PTSD. Young argues for a reconsideration of the existence of this label, in light of the history of the label alone. There is no doubt that persons experiencing any of these symptoms - or many of them - is really experiencing these, Young points out. The essential question, then, is whether they belong altogether in a single diagnostic entity, such as PTSD. Is it the case that the medical and psychiatric professions applied a label because of the practical 'necessity' for acknowledging inter-connectedness between these various symptoms and behaviours? Was it the case that the impetus for categorization and defining, behind the construction of the DSM and its revised publication processes, drove experts to see connectedness where in fact there was little, none, or only very slight physiological similarity or connection? The forces behind the editing and revising, and republication of the DSM, in the 20th century, were very strong. Not least of these forces was the drive - in the context of the post-Korean and post-Vietnam periods - to provide for politicians, the military administration, and the Veterans Administration in the U.S. a readily accessible label to be applied diagnostically for veterans where there was a claim for financial compensations and medical benefits. When I began my own research, into British history (early modern period), my very first interests revolved around matters of conscience, and honour, among English males involved in the English Civil Wars. Actually, that's not quite true - my very first interest was in discovering why men did NOT fight in these wars (1642-1646, 1648). I wanted to really KNOW what men were thinking when they decided to remain neutral in the conflicts. This led me into efforts to understand the 17th century definitions of honour and conscience - since these were clearly critical aspects in the decision of neutrality. A tangential area of research emerged in this process, the understanding of the nature of 'fear' for these men, particularly fear in the face of brutalities of war, and death. Some fears were handled by men with the seeking out of evidence of providence, even predestination, at work. Some fears were dealt with in the context of apocalyptic perspectives: the Second Coming/ Apocalypse was clearly upon us --> I am a good Protestant ----> faith will save me ---> the Bible offers evidence of the terror of the Apocalyptic battles, but I am saved ---> therefore, even though my death be terrible, I will see paradise. There is no doubt among historians studying early modern Europe and England that there was a sense of a not-far-off Apocalypse. It was in my study of such perceptions that I began to consider the impact of fear, brutalities of war, and catastrophic events on European - really English - society. What did men actually, and really, THINK when they experienced in every immediate and personal sense the shocks, the brutalities, the violence of war and death? Was it true that they were secure from mental disorders that we see today, by virtue of, well, their 'virtue'? Was their security in faith, their perceptions of personal honour and a right conscience enough to guard them from what we today consider PTSD? I didn't - and still don't think so, at least not entirely. Perhaps I'm underestimating the significance and thoroughness of the role played by the type of personal religiosity and faith which appears to have prevailed throughout early modern society. Perhaps the faith, piety, belief, or whatever else we might call it, of men at that time - in England, in the 1600s - was truly of such a different kind that it really did protect most males from the malady of PTSD (should we still, after all, acknowledge the legitimacy of that label). The question remains - and it's a difficult one: is/was PTSD a real syndrome, in its entirety? Is/ was it ONLY a product of the pressures of the 20th century (political, medical, military, and editorial)? If I am searching for 'it' in the past, it would be helpful to know if PTSD is 'real'. A.

Memory

What is your earliest memory? Why do you remember it, or -perhaps it's more accurate to ask HOW you remember this particular thing/event/time over the many other things/events/ times that also fill your life? Memories, and remembering play an enormous role in our brain map, and this is - for me - just so fascinating. As a historian, I 'work' with memories all the time. Just a thought - or several - rambling around in my head today.

That's It: Apocalyptic film, dramatic events, 9/11 and the at...

That's It: Apocalyptic film, dramatic events, 9/11 and the at...: I've been reading various works on PTSD, over the past few years, and doing so slowly (when I've got the time and the inclination or...