“with
shrunken fingers
we ate
our oranges and bread,
shivering
in the parked car;
though
we know we had never
been
there before,
we knew
we had been there before.”
There are a number of movies that revolve
around the premise of reliving events in order to get them right, or that there
are crucial points in life (or a plot) where decisions can be made where things
will go “right” instead of “wrong”. Groundhog
Day is probably the best known example, Sliding
Doors looks at the path not taken, and there is a new movie being released,
About Time, which looks like it
is in a similar vein. Recently I read a book by Kate Atkinson, Life After
Life, which rewrites the life of the main protagonist not so much that she
gets it right but so that a huge range of different eventualities are explored.
The idea is compelling, which is likely why many films and books use repetition
or re-creation to re-invent a life.
The notion of reviewing and redoing can be
attractive when you have the time and inclination to look back on your life. I
often wonder what might have been if I had started trying to have children in
my 20s instead of my 30s. Others might wonder “what if” they had followed their
passion for art or music instead of gaining a sensible qualification in
economics or business, or whether they would have studied at all. Our experience of time is linear, despite what we would like to think
or believe, as we experience events in succession without the power of
rearranging them or travelling back. So we’re stuck with our choices and the
path they lay out for us.
But what if your past kept being thrown
back at you involuntarily, and you kept reliving it without being able to
change it?
We all experience moments where we groan
and intone “Groundhog Day” as we commit a familiar faux pas, repeat a mistake, play
to type and realise that our choice has come back to bite us on the backside.
Moments of déjà vu are common, where we feel like we’ve been here before and
done this thing. The mind tricks us into believing, erroneously, that we are
reliving a moment.
It tricks us all the time. On one hand, the
human brain is capable of great learning capacity. It can absorb, process,
sort, analyse and evaluate information - both trivial and important -
instantaneously and in a constant stream, recalling it (mostly) when needed.
Like my brother-in-law’s savant-like recall of songs and bands of the 60s, 70s
and 80s, or his children’s ability to chant the names and numbers of the entire
Hawthorn Football Club playing list. On the other hand, the mind is capable of
great deception, hiding things from you and locking things away instead of adequately
filing and accounting for them, only to throw them back into play when least
wanted.
Such trickeries of the mind can become
episodic or endemic. There are people who live with the past constantly
knocking on the door of their psyche, and as much as they ignore the insistent
banging they cannot help but relive events from yesterday. History never
repeats? Well, tell that to sufferers of PTSD.
It is estimated that up to 10% of people
will suffer from Post Traumatic Stress Disorder at some point in their lives[i].
Post Traumatic Stress Disorder is exactly what you think it is – people
experience or witness a traumatic event and then have it recur in their minds
later on, as if surviving it the first time wasn’t enough. It’s a cruel trick
of the mind that goes way beyond déjà vu or Groundhog Day. When the past gets
relived in this way it is recognisable by the clinical symptoms of anxiety or
depression that accompany it. People who live through bushfires or other
natural disasters, witness road trauma or violent death, or experience combat
or torture are just some of the likely candidates for this syndrome.
Until recently my knowledge of PTSD was
limited to a memorable episode of Aaron Sorkin’s West Wing. Josh Lyman, Deputy Chief of Staff to President Bartlet,
survived a shooting incident and later suffered from irritability, anxiety and
a dangerous lack of regard for personal safety due to recurring memories of the
attempt on the President’s life and his own life-threatening bullet-wound. His
memories were triggered by live music being played in the White House, which
his mind confused with sirens from the night of the traumatic event. He no
doubt experienced the physical reactions to memories of the event - 'pounding
heart, rapid breathing, nausea, muscle tension, sweating'. Maybe he had
nightmares or flashbacks, and certainly there was intense 'emotional distress
when reliving the event'.[ii]
Tricksy mind - even if it is fictional.
It was suggested to me over a week ago that
I may be experiencing PTSD – a suggestion I rejected immediately on the grounds
that I have never been in a warzone or witnessed a murder, nor have I survived
a bushfire or had to give CPR to a road accident victim. I cannot conceive of
the magnitude of trauma that soldiers, paramedics and police officers must
endure. I abhor the very thought of comparing my stresses to theirs. But my
psychologist would say it’s not about comparing, it’s about the individual
experience of events in your life.
Six weeks ago I had a return episode of
Meniere’s Disease. To summarise Meniere’s briefly – it is a disease of the
inner ear presenting with dizziness, vertigo, nausea, vomiting, lack of balance
and tinnitus (ringing in the ear). When you’re standing up you’re not sure
whether you’re swaying or if the earth is moving suddenly and unpredictably, so
it is better to be lying down. I haven’t had a prolonged episode like this one
since I was first diagnosed back in 2010.
2010 was my monster year, as anyone who
knows me would be aware. Short version – pregnant after many years of trying,
miscarriage, Meniere’s Disease, cancer, bowel operation, liver operation. From
miscarriage to liver surgery was 6 months.
Firstly, miscarrying broke my heart. I
can’t say any more about it here.
Secondly, Meniere’s Disease left me
bedridden for 5 months in 2010 and robbed me of my independence, balance and
physical condition. It may not be traumatic in terms of seeing someone die, but
it was hugely stressful.
And thirdly, cancer came from nowhere.
Suddenly you’re 38 and have stage 4 cancer. What the hell is that about?
When Meniere’s came back 6 weeks ago, I can
concede that it is possible that I began to relive my somewhat traumatic past.
If there was a trigger, like Josh Lyman’s
Christmas Carols by bagpipe, feeling off-balance would seem to be it, on both
literal and figurative levels. I believe Meniere’s was brought on by stress and
overwork (totally self-inflicted, and I had a good time getting there) but
since then my tears have been on tap and my emotional state has me questioning
my purpose, my life, and my future. The feeling of powerlessness returned in
full force, along with the futile questions of “how long will this last?” and
“is there something else going on here?”
It may also be because when you have
medical history like mine and front up to the doctor with dizziness and
headaches they tend to take your symptoms seriously and give you a thorough
going over. I had a brain CT and an MRI and was referred to a neurologist. It was all clear, so nothing to worry about. But when my headaches could not be
explained by anything else, the neurologist suggested counseling and the GP ran
me through the Mental Health Care Plan Questionnaire. Apparently I was only
mildly depressed and moderately anxious (or the other way round, who cares) but
each time I relate my history to a doctor I still burst into tears. The GP
thought I was suffering PTSD and the psychologist seems to agree.
Reading the symptoms of PTSD I still don’t
think I fit the description, but for one line on one website: “Sense of a
limited future – don’t expect to live a normal life span”[iii].
Talk to any cancer survivor and I’m sure they’d feel the same way, especially
if they haven’t got to the magical five-year milestone yet. So the jury is
still out.
But if I’m not exactly reliving the past
and just recalling it, perhaps I can get something out of it. In Groundhog Day, Bill Murray wakes up on
the same day to learn how to live his life more selflessly (after a detour
towards helplessness and suicide, but let’s skip over that). The loop of
Groundhog Day has lessons for him.
I mentioned to my psychologist last week
that when I went though all this last time I used my blog to help me learn my
lessons and process my experiences. She asked me what those lessons were, and I
couldn’t name anything except for “ummm…there was something about being
patient…” So I returned to my blog for revision. Like Bill Murray learnt from
his experiences, maybe that’s why I’m mentally reliving events now. It could be
that my version of PTSD is simply SWOTVAC.
So in order to review and redo, here are some
of the lessons from Sweet Blog Therapy that resonate and warrant repeating in
the now, PTSD or no PTSD:
Lessons for Review 2013
1.
The future:
Right Now: “The only thing we can count on is the present:
who we are right now, what we know right now, what we're capable of right now,
what we have to give right now, who we care about, right now.”
Great Expectations: “There
is no beginning or end, only cycles. There are no successes or failures, only
cycles.”
2.
Work
Unoccupied: “I know my brain has the capacity for work but (sometimes) my body
does not.”
3.
Wellness
4.
Mental Health
Great Expectations: “We are
constantly changing, through experience, time and circumstances, so when we are
down, we come out of it; when we grieve, time takes away the sting; when we are
happy, it can fade to nothing; even a steady contentment requires constant
maintenance for it to linger for any space of time. And then it fades. Nothing
is static in human life and our experience of it. There are only cycles.”
Repeat ad nauseam.
