Category: Resilience

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Healing Trauma with the Help of Tattoo Art

00Career, Depression, Embarrassment, Featured news, Resilience, Self-Harm, Trauma November, 19

Source: Nickola Pandelides, used with permission

“I think I’ve always struggled with my mental health. Even as a little girl I can remember being uncontrollably sad and stand-offish from people… I can remember feeling such sadness and hatred towards myself that I felt like I just needed to let it all out.”

When university student Krista (name changed) was young, she suffered from debilitating anxiety attacks and feelings of self-hate, which led her to begin self-harming at the age of 12. Self-harm can take on many forms such as cutting, burning, scratching, or other means of self-injury.

Artist and mental health advocate Nickola Pandelides has been a tattoo artist for three years at Koukla Ink, a tattoo shop that she owns. In an interview with The Trauma and Mental Health Report, Nickola describes noticing that people with personal difficulties were increasingly coming to her for help and she wanted to do something about it:

“So many clients were coming to me for scar cover-up tattoos. I realized that there was a need for it, that there needed to be a safer space for people to go to open up about these things…that’s when I started Project New Moon.”

Project New Moon is a non-profit tattoo service for people who are left with scars from self-harm. Nickola has received an overwhelmingly positive response to the project from people all over the world, showing that there is a widespread desire for such services. Nickola has been running this project out of pocket since May 2018.

“There have been over 200 responses, and a huge wait list that I can’t get to all on my own, so we definitely need help, and we’re trying to start funding through GoFundMe.”

Unfortunately, there is still stigma surrounding self-harm. In particular, people perceive these visible scars from self-harm negatively, often judging harshly and treating these survivors poorly. One of Nickola’s clients, Emily, has a story similar to that of Krista; she also struggled with self-harm, and eventually decided to get a cover-up tattoo. In an interview, Emily explains:

“The stigma around self-harm scars is huge. A lot of people see people in our situation and think they’re just looking for attention, which is a huge problem because then people don’t get the help they need… Everyone expresses their pain differently.”

The reasons that people choose to self-harm are complex, and can be difficult to understand. However, self-harming behaviour is generally thought to be a way to release or distract from overwhelming emotional pain and anger, or to feel a sense of control. The act of self-harming may temporarily relieve negative feelings, but Emily describes how it ultimately led to remorse in her case:

“I decided that I wanted to get a tattoo to cover my scars because I felt a lot of shame and guilt for what I had done to myself… As I got older, I would look at my scars and I would feel so embarrassed, so I would try to cover them with bracelets, but I would always have to take them off eventually and my scars were still there.”

Emily explains that her tattoo represents growth and change; it has helped her to forgive herself and acts as a reminder that she can still turn her life into something beautiful despite all the pain she once felt.

Many of the women who come to Nickola for cover-up tattoos are mothers who have been living with their scars for years. She tells me about one mother’s story that stood out to her:

“She was a drug addict and had recently become sober. She had a lot of scars on her arm from scratching and picking, and self-harm as well. She had a little boy, and he was getting to be the age where he would be starting to ask questions. I think it really mattered to her that she would have something positive [her cover-up tattoo] to talk to him about, and that her scars would be less noticeable so she could kind-of protect him from that.”

After turning their darkest memories into something beautiful, Nickola explains that her clients’ feelings of powerlessness, shame, and embarrassment are replaced with relief, and a regained sense of control. She remarks that many of her clients feel as though getting the tattoo was an essential part of their healing journey:

“I think a part of healing is also being able to feel on the outside as you do on the inside.”

Krista also received a cover-up tattoo from a different tattoo artist. As an artist herself, Krista wanted her tattoo to be a reminder that her hands should be used to make beautiful art, instead of being used to hurt herself. She explains that even though she is still working towards recovery, getting her tattoo gave her not only a sense of control, but also the motivation to refrain from self-harm:

“I think it’s changed my life by not allowing me to cut there anymore. I don’t want to ruin the tattoo so it’s even more incentive to take better care of myself.”

-Emma Bennett, Contributing Writer , The Trauma and Mental Health Report

– Chief Editor: Robert T. Muller, The Trauma and Mental Health Report.

-Copyright Robert T. Muller

This article was originally published on Psychology Today

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Death Gives a Wake-Up Call

00Bystander Effect, Featured news, Gratitude, Grief, Resilience, Trauma October, 19

Source: Ilya Haykinson at Flickr, Creative Commons, some rights reserved

On a quiet summer evening a few years back, while taking a walk in Trinity Bellwoods Park in Toronto, I witnessed an event that would change the course of several peoples’ lives. As I relaxed under a tree in the park, watching families enjoy themselves, I heard a loud noise and saw a large branch from another tree fall onto where a couple was sitting. I heard a woman scream, and the man beside her was now trapped under the branch.

Walking a few steps closer, I froze, trying to understand what I’d just seen, which seemed unreal. I felt helpless. Others reacted differently than me as some tried to remove the fallen tree branch, some tried to resuscitate the man, while others comforted his wife, saying the ambulance would soon come. It felt like it went on for hours. Once the yellow blanket was placed over the fellow, I knew it was over. He was pronounced dead.

Mike Lee, one of the three people who performed CPR on the victim, described the shock he felt immediately after the event in an interview with the “Trauma and Mental Health Report,” which is republished here:

“The biggest thing that went through my head was that there was nothing going on: no hurricane, no lightning, no typhoon, no volcano or violence; nothing. Just a beautiful day and this tree branch just happened to fall on this guy and killed him on the spot. How could something so beautiful, a beautiful day, turn into such a traumatic event?”

For me, it felt surreal, as if I’d lost control of my existence. I kept thinking that it easily could have been me under that tree. Later, I was left with unresolved questions about God, the universe, my existence and life’s meaning. And, despite having the courage to take action initially, Mike was affected by the traumatic experience too.

“I was in shock. I just walked around with my bike; I couldn’t even get on my bike to ride it. I kept thinking how thankful I was that I was ok and I kind of felt happy that I actually did something – that I didn’t just lock up and freeze. And then, I called my parents to say “I love you”. I was pretty traumatized, to be honest. I am pretty sure that I went home and cried.”

People experience trauma in different ways. For example, some re-experience the trauma itself, have nightmares, get bouts of anger and sadness, experience dissociation and even PTSD. Mike did not experience many negative consequences of this event although, at the time, he expressed sadness. That resonated for me. Sadness and disbelief along with dissociation were what I’d experienced.

Research has shown that dissociation is common after trauma, especially when extreme physiological arousal is present. Most who experience dissociation feel a sense of detachment from their lives. For me, dissociation provided some emotional distance, a buffer to protect myself from the overwhelming emotions that accompany something so tragic.

There are many unique challenges to overcome when faced with a traumatic experience and for some, it becomes a lifelong journey. In some ways, I feel fortunate because for me, facing my mortality was a wake-up call, one that encouraged me to try to live a more authentic and meaningful life. Mike shared similar thoughts:

“I will never forget that day, it was a pretty defining moment. It reminded me that you have one chance at life, and you never know when things are going to go bad. You can be safe your entire life – not fly on planes, be careful on buses, wear your seat belt, don’t do drugs, don’t drink – and you end up in a park one day and a tree falls on you. It just opened my eyes and made me realize life is short, so why not just make the best of it?”

A few months after the event, Toronto police presented Mike Lee with an award for his actions. Mike’s mother accepted it on his behalf, as he had already moved to Japan to start a new business. He had previously quit his job, as the incident led him to re-evaluate his life. Mike explained:

“If there is anything I would want as a message coming from me is for people to really reassess their beliefs and what they are holding onto as the most important things in their life.”

 -Copyright Robert T. Muller

This article was originally published on Psychology Today

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The Hidden Struggles of Animal Rescue Workers

00Animal Behavior, Depression, Featured news, Resilience, Suicide, Trauma September, 19

Source: 12019 at Pixabay, Creative Commons

During the civil war in Syria, veterinary surgeon Amir Khalil from the charity organization Four Paws International, travelled to Aleppo to rescue surviving zoo animals. Before the war began, the zoo was home to around 300 animals, yet by July 2017 only 13 remained. After months of intense negotiations with the Syrian and Turkish governments, local factions and warlords, and two dangerous rescue missions later, Khalil managed to save all 13 animals. Prior to this rescue, Khalil had rescued animals from conflict zones in Libya, Gaza and Iraq. 

When tragedy strikes, most people think about the potential harm done to human lives. However, many care deeply about animals and are willing to put their lives at risk to save them. In fact, during Hurricane Katrina, of those who did not evacuate their homes, 44% did so because they did not want to abandon their pets.  

Research has even shown that there are some circumstances in which people chose to save pets over humans. One study showed that 40% of people chose to save their own pet over a foreign tourist. Another study showed that when presented with a fictional news story, people cared more about crimes involving dogs and children than adults. A possible reason for this surprising finding was likely due to the vulnerable nature of animals. In fact Khalil felt compelled to rescue many animals in the past simply because the zoo animals were dependent on humans. In an interview with The Telegraph, he explained: 

“Humans have the option to escape, but animals caged in a zoo don’t have this option. It was humans who brought animals to these places. They cannot speak, they have no political agenda, but they are messengers from the darkness, they bring hope.”

Other animal rescue workers express similar sentiments. Darren Grandel, Deputy Chief of the investigations department at the Ontario Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals, explained in an interview with the Trauma and Mental Health Report (TMHR) that the most difficult part of his enforcement work is witnessing innocents being harmed: 

“The animals, all the time, are the innocents. It’s not that they’ve chosen to engage in a type of activity that can harm them. The humans have done it to them. So a lot of the time you’re seeing innocent animals being harmed, sometimes in very horrific ways, in ways that you couldn’t imagine someone hurting another living thing. It can be very, very traumatic.”

When working on rescuing  animals such as in the wake of a natural disaster, a similar type of trauma can be experienced.  In a TMHR interview, Miranda Spindel, a veterinarian with 19 years of experience, including a decade with the American Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals explained:

“On deployment, you are typically away from home and often working in conditions that are less than ideal. Sometimes, there are animal owners as well as animals involved, who may have experienced very stressful and emotionally challenging situations and require skilled and compassionate care, too. Often the work is physically as well as mentally challenging.”

Animal rescue work, though important, severely affects the mental health of these individuals. Humanitarian aid workers and first responders report high rates of depression, anxiety and PTSD. Animal rescue workers occupy similar roles, rescuing and proving aid to animals in distress and likely experience similar mental health problems. And, according to a study in the American Journal of Preventative Medicine, those in protective service occupations, including animal control workers, have the highest rate of suicide, at 5.3 per million workers. 

Veterinarians and others individuals who work with animals also experience high rates of compassion fatigue. Compassion fatigue, also known as vicarious traumatization, refers to stress symptoms that result from providing care and empathy to humans or animals in distress. 

Janice Hannah, Campaign Manager of the International Fund for Animal Welfare’s Northern Dog Project described one such experience in a TMHR interview:

“I remember visiting a rural shelter. The dogs were literally stuck in a poop filled fence, cold, wet and hungry. That was the end of shelter work for me – I had been to so many similar shelters around the world and am reminded of the sadness felt in those situations. Though those feelings dissipate over time, it never goes fully away. You end up building up more and more sadness and discomfort around all the animals that you see but can’t make a tangible difference about the circumstance. 

There are some programs in place, such as support groups and internal services within organizations to help animal rescue workers recover from trauma. Yet, more needs to be done to better help individuals who have dedicated their lives to helping animals. Increased peer support and open communication without fear of stigma are required to better help individuals with mental health problems. Spindel emphasizes that preventative measures are equally important:  

“Whether or not workers are suffering from mental health issues, the circumstances are generally enough, in my opinion, that mental health services and resources should be made available as a matter of routine. Trained support during the deployment – or even before – not just debriefing afterward – seems critical to building resiliency for this type of work.”

From enforcement officers to veterinarians, many different professionals work selflessly to rescue innocent animals from harm. With greater support services, these individuals will be better able to cope with the stresses of their job, enabling them to better help animals in need.  

-Roselyn Gishen, Contributing Writer, The Trauma and Mental Health Report

– Chief Editor: Robert T. Muller, The Trauma and Mental Health Report.

-Copyright Robert T. Muller

This article was originally published on Psychology Today

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Should Those with Mental Illness Have the Right to Die?

00Chronic Pain, Decision-Making, Featured news, Mental Health, Resilience, Suicide September, 18

Source: KingaBritschgi at DeviantArt/Creative Commons

On June 17, 2016, Canada joined a handful of countries and several U.S. states in enacting assisted suicide legislation. Medical Assistance in Dying (MAID), also known as euthanasia, was passed into Canadian law as Bill C-14 in an effort to provide relief from unbearable suffering to those whose death is reasonably foreseeable.

Although having the choice to die brings relief to many individuals and their families, Bill C-14 does not cover those who wish to end their life due to an unendurable mental illness.

Being denied a legal right to assisted death for significant mental illness was the plight of 27-year-old Adam Maier-Clayton. Since childhood, Maier-Clayton suffered from unrelenting psychological disorders that robbed him of sustaining a reasonable quality of life. In an essay published in The Globe and Mail, he detailed the unrelenting pain his psychological disorder caused him:

“I’m not suicidal in the sense that I hate myself and I want to leave. I think this world is beautiful, but this amount of pain is intolerable… Some people are confined to lives of truly horrifying amounts of suffering that no amount of treatment can stop.”

Maier-Clayton lobbied the Canadian federal government to change the criteria that would allow people with severe mental illness to qualify for medical assistance in dying. His bid was not successful. Sadly, in April 2017, he took his own life.

Currently, the law in Canada excludes access to MAID for people suffering from psychological issues alone. For right-to-die supporter, author, and journalist Sandra Martin, this position is disrespectful to the severely mentally ill. In an article written for The Globe and Mail, Martin argued for what she believes is the best interest of the patient:

“We can’t leave it to vote-wary politicians and risk-averse medical associations to campaign for an equitable MAID law….We can’t wait for another constitutional challenge to recognize that not all suffering is physical. That struggle is Maier-Clayton’s legacy—and fighting for it might make a difference to you or somebody you love.”

Not having an available, safe, and medically supervised solution to dying does not prevent death. According to Dying With Dignity Canada, the absence of a legal and feasible option pushes individuals into making agonizing and expensive decisions. They must either take their own life or travel abroad to countries where assisted suicide is legal.

Despite the pressure to change MAID, lawmakers are taking a cautious approach to considering future regulation on right-to-die policies involving psychological disorders. Many mental health professionals and organizations meet this unhurried approach favourably, as they feel it is necessary to protect potentially vulnerable members of society who may recover.

The Centre for Addiction and Mental Health (CAMH) supports the Canadian government’s decision to painstakingly consider the implications of MAID for psychiatric patients. CAMH stated:

“CAMH recognizes that people with mental illness can experience intolerable psychological suffering as a result of their illness, but there is always the hope of recovery. In those rare cases where a mental illness may be determined to be irremediable, safeguards must be in place to make sure that an individual truly has the capacity to consent to MAID.”

On February 8, 2017, in a panel discussion jointly hosted by the University of Toronto Faculty of Law and CAMH, mental health professionals converged to dissect this multifaceted debate. In addition to the vast legal issues, they discussed the enormous ethical dilemmas inherent in right-to-die policies. Panel member Scott Kim, Senior Investigator at the National Institute of Health, summarized some of the ethical, moral, and legal issues at play, and cautioned against enacting policy without the appropriate research on euthanasia available. Kim emphasized the risk of human error in the medical profession in making this type of decision:

“Euthanasia is permanent….Even the most sophisticated psychiatrist does not have too much data to go on except their own experience and impressions to make these prognostic determinations.”

Kim goes on to point out that wanting to die is often part of the mental illness manifestation itself, and with correct and consistent treatment, the desire to end one’s life may abate.

MAID currently requires a medical practitioner to support a patient’s resolve to die. The magnitude of such a permanent decision lies not only with the patient, but also with the medical professional. In an occupation that is obligated to ‘do no harm’, supporting the death of someone with a non-terminal illness, despite an intolerable life, appears contradictory.

Tarek Rajii, panel member and Chief of Geriatric Psychiatry at CAMH, has worked with patients that he knows may never recover. However, based on the current research available, Rajii remains hesitant about MAID for mental illness:

“We don’t know who will die suffering. We don’t know how to identify that person….If we are considering MAID as a form of treatment intervention, when there is very limited evidence, as a medical profession, do we introduce an intervention without enough evidence, that we don’t [fully] understand?”

With making the decision to end a life of psychological suffering, mistakes are not an option. There is no room for error; there is no reversal. And yet, how much suffering can one person endure? Ultimately, we are left with the realization that, despite the pain from devastating mental illness, hope for recovery cannot be ruled out.

– Kimberley Moore, Contributing Writer, “The Trauma and Mental Health Report”

“-Chief Editor: Robert T. Muller, The trauma and Mental Health Report”

Copyright Robert T. Muller

This article was originally published on Psychology Today

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Online Programs Confront Suicide in Indigenous Communities

30Depression, Featured news, Mental Health, Resilience, Suicide, Trauma Psychotherapy December, 17

Source: Nicole Mason at unsplash, Creative Commons

In 2016, a wave of suicides occurred in Canada’s indigenous populations. Communities in northern Saskatchewan particularly witnessed several youth suicides. In October of that year, five girls between 10 and 14 died by suicide in the span of a few weeks. The situation intensified when news broke later that month that a 13-year-old girl was the latest to take her life: a total of six young girls in the province.

Indigenous communities have a long and painful history of mental health issues. Persistent poverty, discrimination, and systemic racism have been cited as key factors in the growing mental health crisis these people face today. Indigenous communities are found in remote, less populated areas, making it difficult for them to get adequate care.

Suicide is the leading cause of death for indigenous peoples—indigenous youth being an acutely vulnerable population. Unsurprisingly, there has been a public outcry for intervention. To reach these remote areas, both activists and researchers are turning to technology to alleviate the growing suicide epidemic.

The We Matter Campaign, an initiative by brother-sister duo Kelvin and Tunchai Redvers, began in October 2016. The campaign consists of videos from members of the indigenous community sharing personal stories of survival and hope. The Redvers’ website hosts a variety of work from indigenous youth—visual art and poetry, in addition to the videos, which are the main focus. Individuals with diverse experiences have shared their stories, from high school students, to residential school survivors, to members of parliament.

One especially moving story comes from comedian Don Burnstick, who discloses:

“I ended up on a chair with a rope around my neck, and I was going to hang myself. …I imagine if I would have done that, I would have ended up another statistic; a cross on the ground in my res. None of this life would have happened for me. I was very grateful that I got off that chair, took the rope off and looked at suicide and said ‘I’m not going to do it. I don’t care how much pain I’m in. I’m not going to do it. You’re not going to get me.’”

By hosting a multi-media campaign on platforms like Facebook and Twitter, as well as their own website, the Redvers harness technology and social media to reach otherwise isolated populations.

Kelvin and Tunchai Redvers spoke to the Trauma and Mental Health Report about their initiative. When asked how it started, Kelvin emphasizes the role of the internet:

“It seemed like something so simple, yet we hadn’t seen anyone do it yet. 3AM is when life seems so bleak and you feel most alone. Since our campaign is online and available at all hours, it could really help during those dark moments.”

Tunchai further highlights the important role technology plays in their approach:

“Our campaign is online, and it lives online—to all remote corners, to those who might not reach out for help. It’s less overwhelming that way, less intimidating.”

Researchers, too, are harnessing the power of technology to help indigenous youth populations. Sally Merry and colleagues at Auckland University have developed a video game called SPARX (Smart, Positive, Active, Realistic, X-Factor thoughts). Referred to as the first “scientifically-proven ‘gamified’ online therapy for depressed people,”SPARX is a fantasy role-playing game designed to teach coping skills based on the principles of cognitive behavioural therapy. SPARX teaches five behaviours to help young people address stress or depression: problem solving; being active; dealing with negative thoughts; improving social skills; and learning relaxation techniques.

Anecdotal findings of SPARX in Auckland show that adolescents using it report feeling happy that their peers don’t know they are depressed, and that they can deal with their mental health concerns on their own. That same study found youth reporting decreased feelings of hopelessness and better emotion regulation. One user explains:

“It gives you the courage to sort out your problems, face your problems, and may even enable you to take another step and talk to someone.”

SPARX has been used to treat depressed youth in a variety of cultural contexts, including indigenous youth. After successful results with the New Zealand Māori population, the approach is being tried in Canada. Given that individuals of the Inuit community in Nunavut are 11 times more likely than the national average to commit suicide, researchers from York University are working to adapt SPARX for the Inuit context (SPARX-N).

This technology is enabling new routes to helping marginalized, indigenous populations that live in inaccessible areas. Although tangible outcomes remain to be seen, technology-based solutions offer hope toward helping heal a long history of trauma. Above all, the founders of the We Matter Campaign emphasize the strength and resilience of indigenous communities. Tunchai says:

“There are a lot of issues out there, but also so much creativity, love, and hope.”

–Fernanda de la Mora, Contributing Writer, The Trauma and Mental Health Report.

–Chief Editor: Robert T. MullerThe Trauma and Mental Health Report.

Copyright Robert T. Muller.

This article was originally published on Psychology Today

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Online Programs Confront Suicide in Indigenous Communities

00Depression, Featured news, Mental Health, Resilience, Suicide, Trauma Psychotherapy December, 17

Source: Nicole Mason at unsplash, Creative Commons

In 2016, a wave of suicides occurred in Canada’s indigenous populations. Communities in northern Saskatchewan, in particular, witnessed several youth suicides. In October of that year, five girls between 10 and 14 died by suicide in the span of a few weeks. The situation intensified when news broke later that month that a 13-year-old girl was the latest to take her life: a total of six young girls in the province.

Indigenous communities have a long and painful history of mental health issues. Persistent poverty, discrimination, and systemic racism have been cited as key factors in the growing mental health crisis these people face today. Indigenous communities are found in remote, less populated areas, making it difficult for them to get adequate care.

Suicide is the leading cause of death for indigenous peoples—indigenous youth being an acutely vulnerable population. Unsurprisingly, there has been a public outcry for intervention. To reach these remote areas, both activists and researchers are turning to technology to alleviate the growing suicide epidemic.

The We Matter Campaign, an initiative by brother-sister duo Kelvin and Tunchai Redvers, began in October 2016. The campaign consists of videos from members of the indigenous community sharing personal stories of survival and hope. The Redvers’ website hosts a variety of work from indigenous youth—visual art and poetry, in addition to the videos, which are the main focus. Individuals with diverse experiences have shared their stories, from high school students to residential school survivors to members of parliament.

One especially moving story comes from comedian Don Burnstick, who discloses:

“I ended up on a chair with a rope around my neck, and I was going to hang myself. …I imagine if I would have done that, I would have ended up another statistic; a cross on the ground in my res. None of this life would have happened for me. I was very grateful that I got off that chair, took the rope off and looked at suicide and said ‘I’m not going to do it. I don’t care how much pain I’m in. I’m not going to do it. You’re not going to get me.’”

By hosting a multi-media campaign on platforms like Facebook and Twitter, as well as their own website, the Redvers harness technology and social media to reach otherwise isolated populations.

Kelvin and Tunchai Redvers spoke to the Trauma and Mental Health Report about their initiative. When asked how it started, Kelvin emphasizes the role of the internet: “It seemed like something so simple, yet we hadn’t seen anyone do it yet… 3 a.m. is when life seems so bleak and you feel most alone. Since our campaign is online and available at all hours, it could really help during those dark moments.”

Tunchai further highlights the important role technology plays in their approach: “Our campaign is online, and it lives online—to all remote corners, to those who might not reach out for help. It’s less overwhelming that way, less intimidating.”

Researchers, too, are harnessing the power of technology to help indigenous youth populations. Sally Merry and colleagues at Auckland University have developed a video game called SPARX (Smart, Positive, Active, Realistic, X-Factor thoughts). SPARX is a fantasy role-playing game designed to teach coping skills based on the principles of cognitive behavioural therapy. SPARX teaches five behaviours to help young people address stress or depression: problem solving; being active; dealing with negative thoughts; improving social skills; and learning relaxation techniques.

Anecdotal findings in Auckland show that adolescents using SPARX report feeling happy that their peers don’t know they are depressed, and that they can deal with their mental health concerns on their own. That same study found youth reporting decreased feelings of hopelessness and better emotion regulation. One user explains, “It gives you the courage to sort out your problems, face your problems, and may even enable you to take another step and talk to someone.”

SPARX has been used to treat depressed youth in a variety of cultural contexts, including indigenous youth. After successful results with the New Zealand Māori population, the approach is being tried in Canada. Given that individuals of the Inuit community in Nunavut are 11 times more likely than the national average to commit suicide, researchers from York University are working to adapt SPARX for the Inuit context (SPARX-N).

This technology is enabling new routes to helping marginalized, indigenous populations that live in inaccessible areas. Although tangible outcomes remain to be seen, technology-based solutions offer hope toward helping heal a long history of trauma. Above all, the founders of the We Matter Campaign emphasize the strength and resilience of indigenous communities. Tunchai says: “There are a lot of issues out there, but also so much creativity, love, and hope.”

–Fernanda de la Mora, Contributing Writer, The Trauma and Mental Health Report.

–Chief Editor: Robert T. MullerThe Trauma and Mental Health Report.

Copyright Robert T. Muller.

This article was originally published on Psychology Today

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Wearing Cancer Survival Like a Badge of Honor

00Featured news, Grief, Mental Health, Positive Psychology, Relationships, Resilience October, 17

Source: eKBS at DeviantArt, Creative Commons

“I have stage 3 cancer; my friend has stage 1—which is like a pimple.”

On her personal blog, Debbie Woodbury, a woman diagnosed with Stage 0 cancer, references this comment by a fellow cancer patient. While she considers the comment hurtful, she is not particularly surprised.

Cancer prognoses vary, and there is large variation in survival between types and degrees of illness. Some are fortunate to survive without the sickening effects of chemotherapy, the fear of losing hair, or surgeries that leave patients bedridden for weeks. But people may also minimize their cancer journey, or be made to view their experiences as ‘lesser’.

Woodbury explains:

“Without a tumor and with a Stage 0 cancer diagnosis, I started this journey not even sure I was qualified to call myself a cancer patient.”

Similarly, Lesley Miller writes of her husband:

“I bought him a bold yellow shirt that said ‘survivor’ across the front. ‘Survivor,’ in his mind, is nothing to tell the world about. He didn’t do anything to claim survivor status; his body just had a treatable cancer that happened to respond to drugs.”

Just like that, degrees of illness become a competition, belittle personal struggles, and create segregation among patients and those in remission.

In January 2015, cancer survivor Cindy Finch posted an article in the Huffington Post entitled “The 6 Injustices of Cancer.” The article received a great deal of backlash for suggesting that certain cancer patients “get off really easy”. She claimed:

“I’ve heard it a hundred times, ‘I’m a cancer survivor, too.’ ‘Oh, really? What type of cancer did you have and what was your treatment?’ ‘Oh, I had thyroid cancer and had to take a radioactive pill for 30 days. Then I was all better.’”

Finch talks about individuals with ‘worse’ diagnoses:

“These folks represent the worst among us. If you’re not one of these folks, perhaps you should be quiet and sit down, and let someone else tell their war story.”

As if some cancer patients just aren’t macho enough. Attitudes like these have negative consequences on patient mental health.

Cancer patients often report feelings of guilt for surviving the illness. Survivor guilt is common among people who have gone through traumatic experiences, such as war, accidents, natural disasters, and interpersonal abuse. For Woodbury, not suffering enough throughout her cancer experience elicited guilt feelings.

Some individuals also consider themselves less deserving. Ann Silberman, a breast cancer survivor, writes in her personal blog:

“It was my belief that others deserved to live more than I did. Better people than me are now gone; people who were funnier, who were kinder, who had more to give.”

And then, of course, there are expectations people have of cancer patients: The image of the strong, inspirational individual, filled with gratitude for a second chance at life.

Silberman continues:

“I am still trudging along, bitching about how cold I am and slamming pain meds for my aches and pains.”

According to Crystal Park and colleagues at the University of Connecticut at Storrs, living through cancer results in the development of new identities that can define people for the rest of their lives. For those still in active treatment, the identity of patient or victim can develop, carrying the connotation of severe suffering inflicted on them. But for those who have survived such adversity, the most common identity was survivor, which carries the connotation of cure.

As cancer becomes an engrained aspect of an individual’s identity, it may be natural for those who suffered greatly to take pride in how much they overcame, indeed to try to silence others who have not experienced the same level of adversity.

But Woodbury takes umbrage at this view, noting:

“The truth is that cancer is not a competition and, just as I am enough, so is my cancer. I certainly did go through less than someone else might have gone through. Thank God for that. For that I should be grateful, not made to feel, by myself or anyone else, that I am guilty of not suffering enough to qualify in the cancer games.”

– Eleenor Abraham, Contributing Writer, The Trauma and Mental Health Report

– Chief Editor: Robert T. Muller, The Trauma and Mental Health Report.

Copyright Robert T. Muller.
 

This article was originally published on Psychology Today

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Wearing Cancer Survival Like a Badge of Honor

00Featured news, Grief, Mental Health, Positive Psychology, Relationships, Resilience October, 17

Source: eKBS at DeviantArt, Creative Commons

“I have stage 3 cancer; my friend has stage 1—which is like a pimple.”

On her personal blog, Debbie Woodbury, a woman diagnosed with stage 0 cancer, references this comment by a fellow cancer patient. While she considers the comment hurtful, she is not particularly surprised.

Cancer prognoses vary, and there is a large variation in survival between types and degrees of illness. Some are fortunate to survive without the sickening effects of chemotherapy, the fear of losing hair, or surgeries that leave patients bedridden for weeks. But people may also minimize their cancer journey, or are made to view their experiences as ‘lesser’.

Woodbury explains:

“Without a tumor and with a stage 0 cancer diagnosis, I started this journey not even sure I was qualified to call myself a cancer patient.”

Similarly, Lesley Miller writes of her husband:

“I bought him a bold yellow shirt that said ‘survivor’ across the front. ‘Survivor,’ in his mind, is nothing to tell the world about. He didn’t do anything to claim survivor status; his body just had a treatable cancer that happened to respond to drugs.”

Just like that, degrees of illness become a competition, belittle personal struggles, and create segregation among patients and those in remission.

In January 2015, cancer survivor Cindy Finch posted an article in the Huffington Post entitled “The 6 Injustices of Cancer.” The article received a great deal of backlash for suggesting that certain cancer patients “get off really easy.” She claimed:

“I’ve heard it a hundred times, ‘I’m a cancer survivor, too.’ ‘Oh, really? What type of cancer did you have and what was your treatment?’ ‘Oh, I had thyroid cancer and had to take a radioactive pill for 30 days. Then I was all better.’”

Finch talks about individuals with ‘worse’ diagnoses:

“These folks represent the worst among us. If you’re not one of these folks, perhaps you should be quiet and sit down, and let someone else tell their war story.”

As if some cancer patients just aren’t macho enough. Attitudes like these have negative consequences on patient mental health.

Cancer patients often report feelings of guilt for surviving the illness. Survivor guilt is common among people who have gone through traumatic experiences, such as war, accidents, natural disasters, and interpersonal abuse. For Woodbury, not suffering enough throughout her cancer experience elicited guilt feelings.

Some individuals also consider themselves less deserving. Ann Silberman, a breast cancer survivor, writes on her personal blog:

“It was my belief that others deserved to live more than I did. Better people than me are now gone; people who were funnier, who were kinder, who had more to give.”

And then, of course, there are expectations people have of cancer patients: The image of the strong, inspirational individual, filled with gratitude for a second chance at life.

Silberman continues:

“I am still trudging along, bitching about how cold I am and slamming pain meds for my aches and pains.”

According to Crystal Park and colleagues at the University of Connecticut at Storrs, living through cancer results in the development of new identities that can define people for the rest of their lives. For those still in active treatment, the identity of patient or victim can develop, carrying the connotation of severe suffering inflicted on them. But for those who have survived such adversity, the most common identity was survivor, which carries the connotation of cure.

As cancer becomes an ingrained aspect of an individual’s identity, it may be natural for those who suffered greatly to take pride in how much they overcame, indeed to try to silence others who have not experienced the same level of adversity.

But Woodbury takes umbrage at this view, noting:

“The truth is that cancer is not a competition and, just as I am enough, so is my cancer. I certainly did go through less than someone else might have gone through. Thank God for that. For that, I should be grateful, not made to feel, by myself or anyone else, that I am guilty of not suffering enough to qualify in the cancer games.”

–Eleenor Abraham, Contributing Writer, The Trauma and Mental Health Report

–Chief Editor: Robert T. Muller, The Trauma and Mental Health Report

Copyright Robert T. Muller

This article was originally published on Psychology Today

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Losing a Pregnancy Only to Lose One Again

00Fear, Featured news, Grief, Pregnancy, Resilience, Trauma, Trauma Psychotherapy July, 17

Source: margimadness, Deviant Art

Anna R. was having an ultrasound, prepared to see her baby for the first time. When she asked the technician what the sex of the baby was, the tech quickly left the room. The physician then entered to tell Anna there was no heartbeat. This became the first of seven pregnancy losses that she would endure.

Recurrent pregnancy loss (RPL) is typically defined as three consecutive losses prior to 20 weeks from the last menstrual period.

Affecting 1-2% of women, the causes of RPL differ. Advancing maternal age is associated with elevated risks of miscarriages, particularly in women 45 or older. Paternal age can also be a variable, with environmental and genetic factors playing a role as well. The risk of miscarriages further increases with the number of previous miscarriages, reaching approximately 40% after three consecutive losses.

While these causes have been established within the medical community, doctors still struggle to predict what ultimately leads to a couple’s pregnancy loss. Even after numerous tests, Anna’s physicians never found anything wrong, making the loss that much harder to cope with.

After her eighth miscarriage, Tracey Beadle of County Durham, UK told The Northern Echo:

“I think I wanted for them to find something wrong, because that would mean something could either be fixed or give us a reason to stop trying for a baby. We did not know when to stop.”

Janet Jaffe, a clinical psychologist and co-author of the book “Reproductive Trauma: Psychotherapy with Infertility and Pregnancy Loss Clients”, told the American Psychological Association:

“A miscarriage is a traumatic loss, not only of the pregnancy, but of a woman’s sense of self and her hopes and dreams of the future. She has lost her ‘reproductive story’, and it needs to be grieved.”

This grief is unique, in that expectant mothers and fathers mourn a child that never came to be. As Kate Evans, a woman who had six miscarriages said in an article in the Independent:

“If there’s no body, how can I grieve? I feel as though I must be kidding myself, wallowing in a morass of grief over a person who never even lived. Every time my mind trips back to this death, this loss, it strikes on empty, because there’s nothing there to miss.”

While there is no physical body to grieve, the hopes and dreams for a future with the child are ultimately the elements missed the most.

This grief is further complicated by feelings of isolation. When a loved one dies, there is often comfort in collective mourning with other grief-stricken individuals. But grieving the loss of a pregnancy can be an isolating experience for parents, as others haven’t formed the same connection with the unborn child and may struggle to understand why the experience is so painful.

Outsiders may also lack empathy for the mother’s experiences and fault her for the outcome of the pregnancy. Anna explained that people unintentionally implied that she was to blame for her miscarriage through comments like, “Do the doctors know what’s wrong with you?” or “Maybe you weren’t taking good care of yourself.”

RPL has been shown to severely disrupt the parents’ mental health. According to astudy by psychiatrist Michael Craig and colleagues at the Institute of Psychiatry, King’s College London, of 81 women with recurrent miscarriages, 33% were classified as depressed, with 7.4% suffering from severe depression. And 21% of the women also had clinically significant anxiety, while some experienced heightened anger and guilt.

Research documenting fathers’ grieving processes showed that, unlike women, many men do not react with increased depressive symptoms, crying, or feeling the need to talk. But similar to women, a major source of grieving arises from relinquishing their hopes and expectations for their unborn child.

While physical treatments for RPL include surgeries, medications, genetic screening, and lifestyle changes, the emotional and psychological toll must also be addressed.

A report by the Practice Committee of the American Society for Reproductive Medicine indicates that psychological support in early pregnancy results in significant improvement of pregnancy outcomes. Psychotherapy can also help work out anxieties and fears from previous miscarriages.

According to Anna, therapy was what helped her through seven painful miscarriages:

“My therapist became my saving grace. I could comfortably tell her anything and everything—especially things I didn’t want to discuss with my husband, like thoughts of suicide. She was the voice of reason in my confused and isolated world.”

Individuals can find additional help through in-person support groups at local organizations, or through online sites, such as the Baby Center, which offer web-based clubs and blogs. Connecting with these groups allows individuals to interact with others experiencing the same grief, which may reduce feelings of isolation.

In the midst of hopelessness, people may feel safer bracing themselves for more heartache. But it is important to remember that, even after four consecutive losses, a patient has a greater than 60% to 65% chance of carrying the next pregnancy to term. In the meantime, seeking psychological support to work through the anxiety and grief may be beneficial.

–Eleenor Abraham, Contributing Writer, The Trauma and Mental Health Report.

–Chief Editor: Robert T. Muller, The Trauma and Mental Health Report.

Copyright Robert T. Muller.

This article was originally published on Psychology Today

feature-470x260.jpg

Losing a Pregnancy Only to Lose One Again

00Fear, Featured news, Grief, Pregnancy, Resilience, Trauma, Trauma Psychotherapy July, 17

Source: margimadness, Deviant Art

Anna R. was having an ultrasound, prepared to see her baby for the first time. When she asked the technician what the sex of the baby was, the tech quickly left the room. The physician then entered to tell Anna there was no heartbeat. This became the first of seven pregnancy losses that she would endure.

Recurrent pregnancy loss (RPL) is typically defined as three consecutive losses prior to 20 weeks from the last menstrual period.

Affecting 1-2% of women, the causes of RPL differ. Advancing maternal age is associated with elevated risks of miscarriages, particularly in women 45 or older. Paternal age can also be a variable, with environmental and genetic factors playing a role as well. The risk of miscarriages further increases with the number of previous miscarriages, reaching approximately 40% after three consecutive losses.

While these causes have been established within the medical community, doctors still struggle to predict what ultimately leads to a couple’s pregnancy loss. Even after numerous tests, Anna’s physicians never found anything wrong, making the loss that much harder to cope with.

After her eighth miscarriage, Tracey Beadle of County Durham, UK told The Northern Echo:

“I think I wanted for them to find something wrong, because that would mean something could either be fixed or give us a reason to stop trying for a baby. We did not know when to stop.”

Janet Jaffe, a clinical psychologist and co-author of the book “Reproductive Trauma: Psychotherapy with Infertility and Pregnancy Loss Clients”, told the American Psychological Association:

“A miscarriage is a traumatic loss, not only of the pregnancy, but of a woman’s sense of self and her hopes and dreams of the future. She has lost her ‘reproductive story’, and it needs to be grieved.”

This grief is unique, in that expectant mothers and fathers mourn a child that never came to be. As Kate Evans, a woman who had six miscarriages said in an article in the Independent:

“If there’s no body, how can I grieve? I feel as though I must be kidding myself, wallowing in a morass of grief over a person who never even lived. Every time my mind trips back to this death, this loss, it strikes on empty, because there’s nothing there to miss.”

While there is no physical body to grieve, the hopes and dreams for a future with the child are ultimately the elements missed the most.

This grief is further complicated by feelings of isolation. When a loved one dies, there is often comfort in collective mourning with other grief-stricken individuals. But grieving the loss of a pregnancy can be an isolating experience for parents, as others haven’t formed the same connection with the unborn child and may struggle to understand why the experience is so painful.

Outsiders may also lack empathy for the mother’s experiences and fault her for the outcome of the pregnancy. Anna explained that people unintentionally implied that she was to blame for her miscarriage through comments like, “Do the doctors know what’s wrong with you?” or “Maybe you weren’t taking good care of yourself.”

RPL has been shown to severely disrupt the parents’ mental health. According to astudy by psychiatrist Michael Craig and colleagues at the Institute of Psychiatry, King’s College London, of 81 women with recurrent miscarriages, 33% were classified as depressed, with 7.4% suffering from severe depression. And 21% of the women also had clinically significant anxiety, while some experienced heightened anger and guilt.

Research documenting fathers’ grieving processes showed that, unlike women, many men do not react with increased depressive symptoms, crying, or feeling the need to talk. But similar to women, a major source of grieving arises from relinquishing their hopes and expectations for their unborn child.

While physical treatments for RPL include surgeries, medications, genetic screening, and lifestyle changes, the emotional and psychological toll must also be addressed.

A report by the Practice Committee of the American Society for Reproductive Medicine indicates that psychological support in early pregnancy results in significant improvement of pregnancy outcomes. Psychotherapy can also help work out anxieties and fears from previous miscarriages.

According to Anna, therapy was what helped her through seven painful miscarriages:

“My therapist became my saving grace. I could comfortably tell her anything and everything—especially things I didn’t want to discuss with my husband, like thoughts of suicide. She was the voice of reason in my confused and isolated world.”

Individuals can find additional help through in-person support groups at local organizations, or through online sites, such as the Baby Center, which offer web-based clubs and blogs. Connecting with these groups allows individuals to interact with others experiencing the same grief, which may reduce feelings of isolation.

In the midst of hopelessness, people may feel safer bracing themselves for more heartache. But it is important to remember that, even after four consecutive losses, a patient has a greater than 60% to 65% chance of carrying the next pregnancy to term. In the meantime, seeking psychological support to work through the anxiety and grief may be beneficial.

–Eleenor Abraham, Contributing Writer, The Trauma and Mental Health Report.

–Chief Editor: Robert T. Muller, The Trauma and Mental Health Report.

Copyright Robert T. Muller.

This article was originally published on Psychology Today