My Own Personal Joshua Tree

I see seven towers

But I only see one way out

You gotta:

Cry without weeping

Talk without speaking

Scream without raising your voice

-- U2, "Running to Stand Still"
From the groundbreaking 1986 album, The Joshua Tree

PTSD can be a painful juxtaposition in one's life.  Sometimes all you need is to cry, but no tears will come forth.  Sometimes you need to talk or scream, but the sound of your voice never makes it farther than the back of your throat-- you know, the back of your throat that's now so seized and constricted that you can't even breathe?

In the middle of the 19th century, Mormon settlers moving west in America came across these unique trees in the desert.  The shape reminded them of the story of Joshua in the Bible, when he reached his hands up to the sky to pray to God, so they named them Joshua Trees.

Sometimes we have to resort to other means of seeking comfort.  If I can't cry or speak or scream, maybe I can at least raise my hands to the sky and speak to God directly from my heart.  As a Christian, I don't believe I'd need words or tears-- God would know what I need Him to know.

But this is a solution for me.  I urge you to find the solution that works best for you, and to have patience while doing so.  I hope and pray that you find it.

Opening Pandora's Box Was Never Going to be Easy

I am incredibly passionate about the upcoming anthology, "Help Me Get Off This Island: Experiences With PTSD," so much so that I've been working more than my health can actually tolerate.  I said in my last post that I finally reached a point where I'm personally no longer ashamed about my assault.  At the same time, though, my PTSD is still a daily struggle.  When I began this project a couple of months ago, I didn't have the foresight to see that this process would include routine triggering events.

Pandora's box has been opened.

None of this makes me any less enthusiastic about the book, nor any less willing to put my whole being into it.  I just have to figure out what works for me.  I have The PTSD Workbook and The Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder Sourcebook, and I need to spend time for myself working through them.

But never fear-- this book will be amazing and I believe it will help so many people in the long run.  I'm willing to wander through the remains of chaos that Pandora stored in her box in order to make this book the best it can be.

Therapy: Make You or Break You

Probably within 6-9 months of my assault, I realized something was terribly wrong.  I didn't know much about PTSD, of course-- not many of us do.  But once night would fall, I had to wander the house and check each door and window to make sure they were locked.  That's not so bad, right?  The problem was, I had to do it every 15 minutes, even when 99% of the time there was no logical reason why those locks would have changed.  But it didn't matter.  That's how I spent my nights back then.

Since I knew it was a problem, I made an appointment with a counselor.  I didn't tell her about the assault for a couple of sessions and by then, she had developed the opinion that a lot of my depression was due to the fact that I didn't have much of a social life.  I finally gathered up the courage one day to tell her about the assault because I was desperate for help.  She listened and then... she changed the subject to ask if I'd made it to any night time activities with friends.  She totally ignored the assault and completely shut me down.  I was devastated.  I felt like I had no right to suffer the way I did.

Unfortunately, her actions have caused long-term damage.  To this day I cannot tell anyone the exact details of what happened the day of the assault.  I've had a couple of wonderful counselors since then; they told me I could tell them when I was ready, but I never could do it.  That fear of rejection and invalidation from the original counselor still boils inside of me.

We think that when we go to a counselor we'll get better, but unfortunately in my case, this one particular woman made me worse.  I don't know if I'll ever be able to tell anyone the full account of my assault because of that, and that's a shame.

Who am I? Why am I here?

My name is Candace L. Cooper and I'm the author/ editor of the upcoming book "Help Me Get Off This Island: Experiences With PTSD".  It's a collection of many people's stories of their life with post-traumatic stress disorder, and I welcome those of you with PTSD to submit your stories to be potentially included in the anthology.

I was sexually assaulted about 11 years ago, and not only did I develop PTSD, but I also spent almost all of these years blaming myself for what happened and feeling too ashamed to talk about it.  This past Fall, after a particularly bad triggering event, I re-evaluated my situation.  When I stepped back, I told myself, "You can't blame yourself anymore.  The assault wasn't your fault, and it's nothing for you to be ashamed of."  This did not vastly improve my PTSD-- I still get triggered by regular events.  But I feel stronger and more ready to face this demon face-on.

Out of this event came my inspiration to put together this anthology.  I want more people to understand PTSD and recognize its importance and severity.  I want people to see that it is not only soldiers who suffer from it.  I want people with PTSD to have hope for their future and I want them to know they are not alone. If I help only 1 person through this, it will still be worth it.