Can we please redefine PTSD?
Adopting a more empowering outlook on the aftermath of trauma
When you experience a traumatic event, loss, or unexpected life transition, it’s easy to feel very alone; like nobody understands you, what happened to you, or how it changed you.
And there can be no mistake; whether it was a catastrophic event or an ongoing situation, you’ve been changed. But you don’t necessarily have a disorder.
You aren’t broken. You’re forming a scar.
I don’t even like talking about post-traumatic stress disorder. In the medical world, the word “disorder” is used to mean “an abnormal physical or mental condition.” A pathology. My objection is that the symptoms of PTSD are evidence of the body trying hard to work through its biologically adapted self-healing response to trauma. It’s trying to do exactly what it’s supposed to do. It’s anything but disordered.
Would you call a scar pathological? Does a scab represent a disorder? Of course not. It’s the body’s brilliantly natural response to a wound. Similarly, anxiety, flashbacks, nightmares, avoidance of triggers; they’re all part of the body’s natural response to unresolved trauma. Of course, just like a scab can become infected and, at that point, cause problems for the body, so too can the body’s natural trauma response become stuck and toxic to your mental health. But that’s not evidence of a disorder. That toxicity happens when we try to ignore, repress, or run from our body’s attempts to heal itself – like picking a scab.
“Post-traumatic” or “pre-thriving?”
I use the acronym PTSD not to signify post-traumatic stress disorder but rather pre-thriving situational distress. I know it may sound like corny word play, but I assure you that how we talk about trauma has a direct effect on how we respond to it.
When I say, “I have post-traumatic stress disorder,” I immediately assume a victim role. Something traumatic happened to me, and now I have a disorder. I’m broken, and I’m not sure I can be fixed. I identify with the seemingly irreparable changes the traumatic experience caused. The term post-traumatic stress disorder doesn’t empower me or help me look to the future.
I’m certainly not suggesting that everyone diagnosed with post-traumatic stress disorder feels disempowered or defeated, or that the suffering experienced after a traumatic event isn’t painfully real. I’m just saying that the label given by the medical/mental health establishment isn’t helping set people up for success.
On the other hand, when I say, “I’m struggling with pre-thriving situational distress,” I assume that I can, and will, learn to thrive again. Something traumatic happened to me that resulted in distress; sometimes profoundly life-altering and long-lasting distress. Importantly, the distress was caused by the situation itself, not by something pathological that is broken inside me or that has given me a “disorder.”
Pre-thriving situational distress implies a temporary state that can be transformed. Helping my body metabolize the experience and complete its stress response; learning to carry the trauma as part of – and not the end of – my life story; and finding meaning in the situation can ultimately alleviate, or at least dramatically lessen, the distress.
Believe me, I’m not for a second minimizing the enormity of that task or the effort it takes. I’m simply saying that there are paths through traumatic distress that lead to new-found strength. You can grow. You can offer the world something new, and powerful, and important that you may not have been able to offer before your traumatic experience. You can learn to thrive.
All paths to thriving are unique
I’m convinced that post-traumatic thriving, while not inevitable, is always possible. It may not always look like a made-for-TV movie. It may not even be noticeable to anyone other than the person doing the thriving. Thriving isn’t a destination, it’s a state of being.
I’m sure you’ve read stories of people surviving unthinkable physical or emotional trauma who show remarkable determination to keep going. These are the people who don’t let circumstances stop them from being who they want to be. Maybe you know somebody like that. Maybe you are somebody like that.
So, this begs the questions, “Why doesn’t everyone who experiences a traumatic event also experience pre-thriving situational distress? Why do some people take longer to learn how to thrive after a traumatic situation?” The answer to both questions is I don’t have a simple answer.
Everyone responds differently to traumatic events and situational distress. And just as thriving might look different for different people, so too does the journey toward thriving. Some of the variables that affect people’s journeys after trauma include:
Past experiences with trauma
Early lessons about their personal power
Feelings of powerlessness before the traumatic event
The extent of their social support network
Access to professional support
Having a “fixed” mindset versus a “growth” mindset (Click here for information about these two mindsets.)
The details of the traumatic experience (i.e. where they able to fight or flee from the trauma, or was freezing and shutting down their only chance for survival at the time?)
My hope
Our response to trauma starts with how we think about trauma, and how we think about trauma starts with how we speak about trauma. I think it’s time for all of us – starting with medical and mental health professionals – to begin talking about the aftermath of traumatic experiences in a more empowering, uplifting way; one that assumes a path toward thriving rather than a descent into “disorder.”
About the author
Dave Wyner is a Licensed Professional Counselor, National Certified Counselor, Certified Clinical Trauma Professional, and Certified Grief Counseling Specialist with a practice in Louisville, Colorado called A Path Forward Counseling. He’s passionate about helping people rebuild their lives and thrive again after painful losses or traumatic experiences. His abiding desire is to help people affected by trauma and grief tap into their own strength, courage, and resilience in order to find meaning and purpose in their lives. In addition to traditional office-based counseling, he also offers equine-assisted psychotherapy with a herd of six horses at a small, private ranch. In his spare time, Dave enjoys hiking the beautiful Front Range with his wife and dog, nature photography, and catering to the two cats who graciously allow him to live in their house.