Keep Pain in the Past. Dr. Chris Cortman

symptoms that originated with the trauma. The good news is that the Fritz can help you put away the trauma, and ongoing help specific to the collateral damage can also be immensely helpful in repairing the remaining damage. But for now, to help you capitalize on the Fritz’s healing power, let’s look at the five steps in depth, starting with Remembering.

       Chapter Three

       Remember: Tell the Tale in Detail

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      “It seems to me that there are more hearts broken in the world that can’t be mended, left unattended. What do we do? What do we do?”

      —Gilbert O’Sullivan

      Remember: Tell the Tale in Detail

      Dennis was sixty-one years old when I met him. A delightful man with two somewhat inconsistent passions—NFL football and cross-dressing—he presented with some of the classic symptoms of depression, anxiety, and post-traumatic stress, all of which he believed had been caused by priest abuse, exactly fifty years ago.

      Dennis was very discouraged; not only were his Dolphins in last place this season, but he believed he would never recover from his deep-rooted shame and self-contempt. Dennis had worked for the government consistently throughout his life but had always felt he was a failure. His interests could afford him temporary respite and escape from his sense of failure and disgust but never made him feel like a whole man or a worthwhile person or husband. Unfortunately, his wife could never understand why Dennis had so much self-contempt. She tolerated his cross-dressing, as she knew this was something that brought him a lot of excitement and positive feelings, though she didn’t appreciate him spending more time in the bathroom on Saturday nights then she did.

      In the second session I asked Dennis what had happened to him fifty years ago.

      He said, “Do you mean with the priest?”

      “Yes.”

      “You know, you are at least the fourth psychologist I’ve seen, and the first one to ask me what happened.”

      “What did you do with the others, exchange recipes?” I asked, demonstrating my amazement that in fifty years, he had never had to address the trauma, despite receiving professional help.

      Dennis reluctantly began to share his stories of the sexual abuse, even though he felt emasculated by the tears and helplessness he experienced as he related the details of each episode. Dennis explained to me that he had never told anyone his story. After prompting him with the question of what had prevented him from doing so, he went on to tell me about the story of his brother. Dennis explained that one day, he and his little brother were in the back of one of the priest’s cars driving to the church. There were two priests, one in the front seat with Dennis and one sitting with his brother in the back. Suddenly, his six-year-old brother blurted out, “Father Patrick is touching me!” The priest in the passenger seat turned his body all the way around and got in Dennis’s brother face and yelled, “You will never speak of this again to anyone!” Dennis told me that he was in shock and speechless as both boys remained silent for the rest of the ride, gripped with fear. Three days later, in a terrible accident, Dennis’ brother drowned in a pond near his house. Dennis believed that God himself had punished his brother for speaking against the priest, and that Dennis, in turn, was never to speak about what happened to him. He never did, until, of course, he and I began psychotherapy.

      On approximately our sixth session, Dennis claimed, “Doc, this is just not working. It’s getting worse. Now I am even dreaming about the priest. How is this supposed to help me if it’s now infiltrating my dreams?”

      I had a strong hunch that because he was relating his stories one by one, (this is the only way to successfully treat traumatic memories, one at a time,) he had stumbled upon another memory that was now manifesting itself in his dreams.

      “Tell me about your dream.”

      “I don’t know, I feel like he’s coming into a room and whispering my name: Dennis, Dennis, where are you?”

      Since it was already apparent to me that this was a memory couched in a dream, my job was simple: encourage him to complete the memory that was now surfacing.

      “Where is this dream taking place?”

      “Oh, s**t! I know where this is! We are away at a church weekend retreat. It’s late at night, and all of us kids are asleep in a big room. Father Pat is creeping into the room trying to locate my bunk. I remember now—this is where it all started.”

      Dennis expressed his anguish, first in tears and then in some words of rage directed at the priest. I asked him to share everything he could remember about the incident until he had completely depleted his memory of these experiences.

      Dennis never had this dream again. He didn’t need to. He had processed the dream and the accompanying feelings, and he chose to release the ugliness of the rape in a letter directed to the priest (more on this technique in later chapters).

      Dennis was in therapy with me for less than three months before he told me that for the first time in his life, he believed he was finally finished with the priest. (There were only three or four memories of being molested by him.) In fact, he claimed that the only time he ever thought about the priest abuse now was in my office, when I asked him about it. He sent me a Christmas postcard featuring strong words of affirmation for our work together on the back and a picture of himself in drag on the front.

      It took Dennis time to remember in the right way, but time does not heal emotional wounds on its own. It merely passes. An entire half century had passed since he was molested by the priest. During that period, unfortunately, Dennis had only stewed silently because of the molestation. It is almost impossible for a child to separate from having experienced something ugly without the child feeling ugly herself or himself.

      Dennis became the ugliness of the molestation. He lived nearly his entire life in shame and self-contempt. Only by having the opportunity to remember and process each of the memories could he finally reach a place of self-forgiveness and release the traumas.

      The Myth That “Time Heals All Wounds”

      The myth that time heals all wounds is pervasive in our society. In fact, it is even perpetuated by the mental health profession. How many psychotherapists are guilty of promising their clients that this (whatever it is) will get better over time? To those who believe that myth, I can introduce you to Vietnam veterans who are worse today than when they came home from combat in 1968. Similarly, I’ve met survivors of incest, rape, and family tragedies who have become more embittered over the years. Healing may occur over time, not because time passes, but because time affords you the opportunity to let go and make peace with the trauma.

      It Is Letting Go, Not Time, That is the Ultimate Healer

      The successful treatment of trauma requires the client to directly face the unresolved drama. This is known as exposure: one must remember the trauma in its entirety and deal with the accompanying feelings. But while exposure to painful material is necessary, it is not curative. The cure occurs because the client not only faces what happened (finally), but then feels, expresses, and most importantly, releases the painful emotions. In other words, exposure alone is the equivalent of only remembering the trauma and never processing it nor putting it away. It is the release of pain and fear that is ultimately curative.

      Prolonged exposure is a technique that forces you to continue to re-experience the trauma. Ideally, you would habituate to the experience, meaning that it then no longer evokes that same magnitude of hurt or fear. In my experience,