trauma

I found out from Jessica that John Freifeld was moving to Wilmington. She said that he was going to move in with her and her family. She had a husband named Mike, that I met a few times, and a son.

I asked Jessica, "why is he moving in with you and your family?"

She said, “he told me he will help me deal with the flashbacks I am having… when I remember the bad things that happened. It’s happening all the time. I have panic attacks and John helps me online. He will be able to help more if he is here with me.

"He is not a therapist, though?" I asked, seeking to confirm that she understood this.

"I know but he can help me get grounded or centered,” she said.

Those were words we had not used in therapy; I didn’t think. So, I asked, “Is that what he said he could do?”

“Yes,” she answered.

This story was troubling me. A concern that I had may not be easy to understand for a layperson. Some professionals had stated in the literature that sometimes dissociative symptoms including those found in Dissociative Identity Disorder, can be iatrogenic, which means caused by the interventions of a therapist. I thought that it wasn’t possible for someone to create such a complex disorder or condition just because they didn’t do things correctly.

I would begin to get a sense of just how possible this was when I describe the sessions I had with Tracy.

Years later, I would speak to John’s sister who shared my extreme concern about what John was doing. Yet, someone else might think that all he is doing is offering advice. It’s hard for me to reconstruct memories of every single little thing that troubled me as I write this years later.

It seems like a little more information is needed before every reader feels the same hair on fire call for help reaction that I was feeling.

John indeed did move in with Jessica, her husband Mike, and their son.

In essence, John had diagnosed Jessica with her condition. He had said to me that he just suspected that she might have DID but she later told me that he told her that’s what her diagnosis was. 

Just as I cannot diagnose medical conditions nor can I advise people about their psychiatric conditions, a layperson shouldn’t diagnose a person as having a psychiatric disorder, especially one as complex and confusing as DID.

While it is true that Sadie and Patricia already knew or believed they had different personalities – they believed they had DID – what worried me about Jessica is that she had discovered this only recently in her work with John.

Jessica said he was going to bring two other women to live with them so he could help them.

I should clarify something. Jessica had never spoken of John as one of her friends that she knew, and he was helping her specifically. He was someone who had been helping people online. 

I knew from my own experience that a person should only have one therapist. That’s why, for example, when I was working with people with schizophrenia during this time period as described above, I made sure they didn’t already have a therapist. I told her and later others that they shouldn’t have more than one therapist.

They would answer that he is “just a support person.”

I tried to explain that even if one is just doing active listening or demonstrating empathy, it’s best for only one person to be doing this because of the nature of their condition and how confusing it is to them. They all stated directly or indirectly that they were confused and looking for answers… What had caused their problems? Why did they have these problems now?

In my conversations with John, he never struck me as curious about how other people are coping or what would make them happy. He talked about himself. I wish I could remember exactly what made me think he was narcissistic, lacking in empathy and compassion but it’s been so long and sometimes things like this are subtle. I’m not diagnosing him just describing his impact on others.

When he came with Jessica, he took charge even if her husband Mike was there. He was directing her to tell me certain things. I wanted to hear from her when she was ready and to learn about how she felt or experienced events, her flashbacks, or her panic attacks.

Sometimes we get certain feelings that are the type of feelings that lead people to believe in psychic phenomena. Let me give an example.

I had been offering a support/therapy group for people with dissociative disorders and I had some attendees who were seeing other therapists in the community. I had been networking through my various roles and affiliations.

In one session, we talked about inviting a significant other to join them for the group. 

In one session, John showed up as Jessica's support person. Others brought someone to the group who was more of a significant other - a wife, girlfriend, or a husband.

Amy was one attendee who was seeing another therapist. I had heard that she believed she was psychic and could sense things about a person, like they gave off an aura, I guess. 

 I could tell that Amy was not comfortable with John being there. I couldn’t quite put my finger on what it was that stood out for her that John did. He was talking like he knew a great deal more than he did and in general trying to “teach” people what he knew. He spoke like this was about him as he shared a story. Eventually the story got around to making a point of advice or guidance.

While I had said this was a support group and I was not going to be a leader as I would in a “therapy” group, it was clear to me that Sadie was a bit troubled by how John was directing things or instructing them. This was before she had completed her therapy with me.

Anyway, Sadie turned to me and said, “what do you think about that, Bruce?”

I had said that some of these things should be discussed in individual therapy sessions and that we should do some creative activities like scrapbooking.

After the session ended, Alice approached me after John and some others walked down the hall and said, “He’s evil! I’m not coming again if he is.”

I just wanted to assure her to come back so I said I would tell Jessica that the group should be for family or significant others.

I would later read about studies involving psychopaths that might explain what Amy sensed. Psychologists have noticed that people can describe certain sensations when they are observing a psychopath doing something rather neutral, like just walking by. 

For more information, please start with a book like “The Wisdom of Psychopaths: What Saints, Spies, and Serial Killers Can Teach Us About Success” by Kevin Dutton. In his book, he also presents research demonstrating how psychopaths can spot good victims better than the average person. They pick up on vulnerabilities. I suppose.

I had not been in the same room with John more than about three times. So, I cannot tell you more about what I was sensing other than that I had sensed that John lacked empathy and compassion. It was a realization that grew over time, so I cannot tell you one jaw-dropping example of this other than what I am about to describe. 

At some gut level, I had a feeling that made me uncomfortable when I was in the same room with him. It wasn’t anything so clear as what some people have described in the research to which I am referring. I just had a feeling or impression.

When John moved down from Virginia, he came down with two woman who had come to believe they had DID. One of them had just picked up and moved for reasons I never understood, her name was Alice. The other was Tracy. I mentioned them above.

Alice hardly ever came for therapy and so I never got to know her very well at all. She wasn’t forthcoming.

Tracy had moved because she was leaving a domestic violence relationship. Both Tracy and Alice had moved in, along with John with the family of Jessica and Mike.

Tracy and I talked, and she seemed very confused about her diagnosis that she had gotten from John. She didn’t state that he diagnosed her but that was the gist of what she was describing.

Tracy seemed embarrassed that she might have been pretending to have different personalities. She said, defensively, “John was demanding to talk to one of my child personalities and I felt like I had to do what he was directing.”

She added, “I wasn’t sure that I was faking the other personality, it just happened.”

We went through the different dissociative experiences from the Dissociative Experiences Scale and where Sadie or Jessica was indicating that most of the experiences happen 60% of the time or higher, Tracy had indicated 20% to 40% on most questions. 

When I asked her an open-ended question like “what is that like?” she just said, “I don’t know.” So, I suggested we could talk more next time.

On our next and last session, she said that she was not feeling safe in the house where she was. She had turned John down when he asked her out for a romantic outing or date. She didn't want to go out with him. She was afraid now.  

Indeed, I could tell that she had reasons to be afraid. Her hands were shaking as she spoke. She was shaking like a leaf. Her voice sounded scared to me. I was used to hearing people scared so there are little things that you notice.

“John must have done something because Jessica thinks I am flirting with Mike and she is mad,” she said. She continued, “She has a temper and I’m afraid she is going to hit me, throw something at me or something else. I left this kind of situation with my husband to find safety.”

I helped her relax with some guided imagery and deep breathing. We talked about her leaving and whether she could she afford an apartment.

This session lasted more than the normal hour. It was over an hour and a half. After helping her to relax, we were planning her escape. That's what would go through my mind later.

I thought that there might be some misunderstanding and I asked if I could talk to John and someone at the house on her behalf.  She agreed. 

Maybe there was something I had sensed myself about John that seriously concerned me at this point, and which told me things would not work out well for Tracy, but I had to try. She was going back there for now.

As I was driving home from the office, I grabbed a payphone before going too far. Something told me that I should try to resolve things before she gets back. She felt scared and she had enough issues to deal with without this additional stress or this fear. 

I was also frustrated that her mind was so jumbled and confused. I couldn’t figure out what her diagnosis really was. She had started out as someone who believed she had DID and different personalities but now neither of us knew what to think about that.

At the same time, it never seemed to me that she was being deceptive with me. She seemed genuinely confused and a bit disoriented. I would have needed more time to better describe that feeling that she was “disoriented.”

We had uncovered some more dissociative symptoms but there was so much confusion that she had about what was meant by a particular question about an experience and/or how often it happens.

I got John on the phone when I dialed the number and he picked up. He talked about how difficult things were because she wouldn’t do what was expected of her. I asked, “well, what about her problems, she is scared and confused?”

I added, “this is why I called, I wanted to help because of how scared she was. She said she is scared more than she was in her home up in New Jersey and she said that every day she feels more and more uncomfortable. I saw myself how scared she was today.”

“I was just hoping that we could help her feel comfortable now, when she comes to her new home,” I added.

Then I heard him say, “well, she disrespected me!” 

I squeezed the phone with my right hand, taking a deep breath to keep from saying anything rash. My face felt flush. I felt my jaw muscles were clenched. My left hand had formed a solid fist. My whole body went stiff, each muscle ready for fight or flight. 

I was livid! This was the fight or flight response in me.

I can safely say that in over five decades of my life no other person or incident has caused such a reaction in me.

What more can I add to put this into perspective. It had been a year and a half since I first spoke to John. I can assure you, dear reader, that I do not jump to conclusions about people. 

I have honestly portrayed myself as feminine and a pacifist who deplores violence. Yet, at that moment, I felt a different set of feelings that were utterly foreign to me. 

In retrospect, looking back at the over five decades of my life, this and the unthinkable idea of someone hurting Lynn or Celta would be possible to transform me from a butterfly into something different. And if truth be known, hurting or threatening Lynn or Celta would be more likely to cause me to act differently. Even if I was attacked, I would be less likely to respond with aggression. 

What I am saying is that I would try to protect someone I loved in my personal life. I was concerned for Tracy and angry at that moment that he was hurting her and/or making her life hell. However, I wasn’t as emotionally invested in the lives of my clients as I was with people I loved. I was angry, though. 

Previously, I had stumbled upon some things that were said about him online when I first heard those things from Jessica, about him misrepresenting himself as a therapist. I had read something about some people who claimed to have traveled to his “treatment facility” in Virginia and how they alleged to being drugged and sexually assaulted and when they wanted to leave after one day, they were not given their return plane tickets.

While I didn’t have proof about that what I read was true, he had written a response online that showed him attacking these individuals and their character. I had not believed those things because it seemed that no one could or would be able to get away with everything that was alleged if it was true. I mean you can’t just invite people to your home telling them it is a treatment facility. Right?

There was something about the callousness of his reactions and responses to my concerns that made me believe he was capable of anything and indeed, he did not care about anyone. I suppose it is my job to make those assessments.

The problem was that most of what I was learning was from clients and was therefore confidential. I couldn’t reveal anything that was said during a session even if I knew who might want to look into these matters.

Later, I would learn that some people had gone to the police and that the Virginia Bureau of Investigation had opened up an investigation into his activities.

I later found out from Tracy that she had caught a train back to where she had been living and she moved into a shelter for women who are victims of domestic violence.

That was the last time I had direct contact with John.  

[Disclaimer:  This section continues to use aliases to conceal the actual identity of my clients due to confidentiality concerns.]

I want to describe a success story in the treatment of Dissociative Identity Disorder.  As I mentioned previously, I got a call from two young women who saw the article in the newspaper that featured me. Their names were Patricia and Sadie. Patricia wasn’t coming very often, unfortunately. So, little progress could be made.

With Sadie, I began to meet the other personalities. It was clear that her friends and her family knew that she had been aware of having different personalities for some time. 

In addition to her psychological issues, she had liver damage due to a long history of drinking. It was sad because she was so young to have a problem that caused her so much physical pain and medical problems. 

Sadie was very attractive, with a nice friendly smile, long blond hair, clear complexion. She was 34. She was about my height of five foot seven. What made her attractive was not just her figure but just how cordial, friendly and kind she was to be around.

She was lesbian and she had a girlfriend that came to meet me more than once. I am not saying this to make it seem okay for me to point out that I am noticing that she was attractive. While I didn’t discuss details of my clients with Lynn due to confidentiality purposes, I did discuss these kinds of observations with Lynn without giving it a second thought as to whether I was saying anything inappropriate that would bother Lynn or that would be inappropriate for a therapist to notice.

As much as I would like to assume that every reader knows that I am not shallow or unprofessional, nor do I objectify women, there will be some readers who occasionally will raise their eyebrows about something I wrote. I would hope that you are getting to know me through this book and will understand these things. Yet, I still want to clarify to be sure to remove all ambiguity.

Anyway, Sadie and her girlfriend intended to get married. It would have to be a church ceremony and there were some progressive churches in the area near where she lived. Same-sex couples in North Carolina could not legally marry at the time.

I had gone to a church that was frequented by persons who are gay or lesbian. I liked the more open-minded approach that they had.

Anyway, the therapy sessions were very much oriented toward whatever concerned her at any point in time. Sometimes that would involve issues that were most bothersome to one or more alter personalities. This could include traumatic events from her past.

I used similar approaches to treating trauma as I had with other trauma survivors as I described previously in this book. I was helping them to process the memory and to move past the trauma.

I also drew upon the ideas from the inner child work I had first begun to learn about back when I was an intern several years earlier. I used other techniques but for the purposes of this story, I’m not going to describe everything.

I helped her to nurture, parent, and comfort the other parts of her, the other personalities. I helped with this during our sessions and described things she could do on her own. I knew and used several hypnotic scripts for this kind of nurturing or reparenting.

She began to smile and said how much happier she was. She invited me to her wedding and told me to invite Lynn. She seemed fine at the wedding with others knowing about her condition and that I was her therapist. I even offered to take photographs for her as I had been getting into photography.

I gladly gave her the photographs and negatives for her to use as she pleased.

She seemed happy and thrilled with the progress we had made. She said she wanted to stop or take a break from therapy because she said she was happy with the accomplishments we had made. Obviously, I respected her wishes and her subjective feelings about this – her judgment.

Neither she nor anyone else who I met had anything but positive things to say about me, the therapy, and the therapeutic relationship.

I would later learn that her impression of me and my therapy changed after she had left therapy with me as a satisfied client. I cannot know for certain why her mind changed but I have ideas. 

Things didn't go this nicely with everyone that I was treating.  

[Disclaimer note the names and identifying information about clients have been changed to protect confidentiality.]

In the last chapter, I mentioned the interaction that I had with Jessica and her alters. I also mentioned that there were two other clients that I had who might have Dissociative Identity Disorder (DID).  

I want to help you, dear reader, to understand dissociative disorders because it can this can be confusing and seem more complex than it is. Also, we all have experiences that are trance-like or dissociative in nature that would be problematic if these experiences were happening very frequently or for long periods of time. 

Consider zoning out or driving to work and realizing that you made the entire trip on autopilot and you cannot remember anything from your drive. If someone was in the car with you that might be problematic or if this happened frequently. 

Distress and lack of control are other key factors that concern us – whether I am speaking as a mental health professional or speaking from personal experience. People come for help when things are happening that bother them or cause them problems.    

My own experience with hypnosis has been very valuable in understanding dissociative disorders and how the mind and body respond to stress and trauma. 

Derealization is a symptom in more than one dissociative disorder. It’s a subjective feeling or sense that things are not real… that they are more like a dream. Some people report a sensation in which they are looking at the world as if through a fog – perhaps it’s no surprise that in movies and TV shows this device is used to indicate a dream sequence. 

Sometimes you might recall being aware that you were dreaming, or you are unsure if you have awakened. This subjective experience can be disturbing for us, or it has been for me. Eventually, I wake up and all is fine. The frequency and the severity of things like this are what differentiates normal experiences from those that cause a person to seek therapy.

Depersonalization describes another class of symptoms that are found in more than one dissociative disorder. This is a sense that part of our bodies is far away or distorted. They might feel like they are standing next to themselves. 

I can recall experiences like this from my hypnosis training or sessions. The hypnotherapist might refer to the hand instead of your hand. This might help with creating numbness to eliminate a sensation of pain. I have had experiences in a trance where I could get rid of tension or other headaches.

People who experience panic attacks have described alterations in their perceptions of parts of their bodies, almost like they are growing or floating up off the ground. These would be similar to depersonalization-derealization as found in dissociative disorders.

This should begin to make these mysterious disorders seem less so. Even if you haven’t had a panic attack what I just described might not seem all that hard to imagine.

LCD and psilocybin (magic mushrooms) are said to create similar alterations in perceptions – with objections and colors moving in a kaleidoscopic swirl-like looking through some cylindrical object with an eyehole at one end.

Identity disturbances are also found in dissociative disorders as well as in anorexia. In the latter case, a sufferer may perceive her body to be much heavier than it actually is. With dissociative disorders, a person might report that at times they do not recognize themselves. 

Again, some of these phenomena (experiences) might seem like natural things that happen to us all from time to time. Other experiences might seem very unusual if this is not part of your own experiences.  

If these phenomena happen a large percent of the time for a person, they might be experiencing a dissociative disorder of some type. The distress that they feel is what brings them in for therapy.

People with DID will report hearing voices of people having conversations inside their heads. This is common in schizophrenia as well.

Diagnosing DID and Dissociative Disorders

As stated elsewhere, dissociative identity disorder (DID) has been considered the most extreme form of dissociative disorder, and it includes many of the symptoms of other dissociative disorders, such as dissociative amnesia, and derealization- depersonalization disorder.

One has to rule out various other explanations for a person’s problems. 

I had found the Dissociative Experiences Scale to be helpful in talking to clients about these things. As the name implies, it deals with experiences. These are subjective experiences. It helps the client realize that their own experiences are not so unusual as they imagined and they are not alone.

This scale is developed and copyrighted by Eve Bernstein Carlson, Ph.D. & Frank W. Putnam, M.D. In this discussion, I am taking examples from the DES-II. Here is a link to the website where you can view the DES-II, as well as get a score:  http://traumadissociation.com/des

This is more of a screening instrument. It helps the client and the therapist to understand the symptoms and experiences of the client.  

After a client completes one of these questionnaires, I would ask them “what is that like?” – a very open-ended question to get them to elaborate. This is a process of exploration that usually goes on for some time.

Sadie and Patricia, who I mentioned previously, had been aware of these experiences for some time and could identify with what was being described in the newspaper article about the workshop. 

Jessica and another two women were referred to me by John Freifeld. He had told me that he was running an online community for people who are dealing with addictions. When he referred Jessica to me and I read the transcripts of her conversations with John, I was concerned that she had not seen a more qualified mental health professional before she “discovered” she had these other personalities.

When I spoke to him, he began to act as he knew more and more about these disorders with each conversation. He had gone out of his way to say that he was “just a support person” in a way that sounded defensive.

I asked whether he had any training in the field and he said that he had not. He had not even had college courses in psychology as I had at Georgia Tech when I was studying engineering. John said he only had some technical coursework from a community college.

I am summarizing different conversations, but it was clear from his own admission that he didn’t have any credentials that would qualify him to provide treatment or make diagnoses. 

I became increasingly bothered about what he did with Jessica and others. Jessica was talking about how John was helping her every day and she said he was helping others who had the same problems.

I don’t remember the exact moment that I heard all these things. I am summarizing my observations. 

The idea that he happened to run into more than one person, Jessica, with this rare disorder while he was running an online community for alcohol and drug addictions is bizarre and disturbing. He was running a 12-step based treatment program online. They were using the model of AA – Alcoholics Anonymous – and NA – Narcotics Anonymous.”

Jessica described him as “the leader” of the online community.

To which I said, “but there are no leaders in AA or NA.”

She got a bit defensive and said, “no, but he runs the community.”

She then started talking about some problems he was having with some of the people he was helping. I cannot recall the details of this discussion other than the fact that he had admitted to her and others online that he wasn’t a therapist. 

She said, “now he calls himself a support person.”

“So, people thought he was a therapist?” I asked, adding “he has been telling me from the beginning that he doesn’t have special training in the field or anything.”

I noticed a phenomenon that I learned in social psychology that we will find ways to justify our actions once we make a choice. Jessica needed his help when she wasn’t meeting with me, or so she said, and this allowed her to overlook what concerned a person like me.

She was overlooking the fact that she knew he had lied and misrepresented himself and his skills or expertise. It would seem to me to be common sense that if someone said they were a therapist that would mean they had a graduate degree in psychology or an allied field, such as social work, along with certain credentials.

He had referred two other women named Tracy and Alice for therapy with me as well and that was sometime after he referred Jessica to me for treatment/therapy for DID. I’ll discuss their situation later, but I wanted to state that it was hard for me to imagine that someone running a 12-step AA/NA program would run into one or more people with such a rare disorder.

Some of the effects of drugs can mimic dissociative symptoms but those experiences do not continue to exist when they are not under the influence of a drug or in withdrawal. 

I have been focusing on dissociation that is related to stress, anxiety, and trauma because these are problems that I can treat as a mental health professional.

I cannot treat medical conditions.  

There has been an open debate about who can diagnose a mental illness. Obviously, only a doctor can diagnose medical conditions, and mental illness or psychiatric disorders can be caused by medical conditions.  

Another important factor about diagnosing this condition is related to the complexity of the problem. There has been some concern expressed in the literature that the condition might be iatrogenic – caused by the interventions of the therapist. So, there was a reason to be concerned about the “support” interventions of John. 

Jessica was the first referral that I got from John but not the only one. Two others came to me also believing that they had DID. I wasn’t John’s partner, but I did want to help anyone who reached out to me, however, they found me. 

I was trying to point out to my clients that what he was doing was similar to what I was doing as their therapist. I explained that he was doing things that a therapist does and that it is not good to be getting treatment from more than one person, even if the other person was trained in the field.

Things were about to get more complicated.  

[Disclaimer: I have used aliases to describe experiences with clients to protect their confidentiality.]

I did get a few new clients because of what they read in the newspaper. Two individuals said they saw the article and they wanted to see if I could work with them. Their names were Patricia and Sadie who said they believed they had DID – Dissociative Identity Disorder – meaning they had different personalities and other dissociative experiences.

It was brave of them to approach me knowing that they had little means to pay for therapy. I mean, speaking from personal experience, I am very hesitant to ask for help for myself when I cannot pay for something.

I then met with Patricia and Sadie who were to become my clients. I agreed to see them pro-bono (for free). Neither of them had insurance that I could bill nor did they have a decent income.  

I had explained to the best of my ability the extent of my experience and expertise in the field. I didn’t want anyone to think that I was an expert with years of experience in the field.

Just like I had felt when I noticed that I could help people with schizophrenia without having been an expert in that area. The fact that people with certain disorders might have trouble getting psychotherapy was a key motivator for me.

I couldn't help but want to donate some of my time to be there for those individuals who had been harmed so profoundly early in life. After I met with them, it was clear that they had been abused, betrayed, and hurt by people who should have provided for them and protected them.

My dedication to providing the best possible services and availability to them was not diminished by their inability to pay for services. 

I spent a great deal of time learning from them. Asking open-ended questions. Listening.

I cannot remember the exact questions that I asked them but they would have been the standard questions that relate to dissociative experiences, which I describe in more detail below. 

Patricia and Sadie had said that they already knew that they had different personalities and that that they could relate to the description of DID from the newspaper article. As mental health professionals, we have to start where the client is. So, if they say that there are other personalities that are “out” at different times and go by different names, one would accept and respect their “experience” or their “reality.”

An Unusual Referral

Another referral that I received was a bit unusual. I was at the office when the receptionist called me and said that a John Freifeld was on the phone.  

I picked up and John began to speak to me. He said he found the article online about Dissociative Identity Disorder (DID) and had found my website where I announced my private practice.  

He said that he had been meeting online with a woman named Jessica who might have DID and she lives in my area, but he is not local.

He said that he has a chat room that he operates.  

Okay. He explained that he wasn't a therapist just a “support person” who runs a recovery forum and chatroom online for alcoholics and people with other addictions.  

The fact that there is no relationship between alcoholism/addictions and dissociative disorders didn't register as important to me at that moment. How would a layperson know this?

John asked if I could see Jessica for therapy. I agreed. I was eager to see if I could help. At the time it seemed like a great opportunity to help someone who seemed confused.

I then waited for her phone call.  

John sent me transcripts of the chat sessions he had with Jessica. It was clear, as I read, that he not only thought she might have DID but he had been interacting with different personalities that had different names.

Jessica called me and we agreed to meet at my office the next day.  

She was in her late thirties, slightly heavy, with dark hair. 

I said that I read the transcripts from John and noted that she had been talking to him as if she was a different person at different times.

“Have you been diagnosed with Dissociative Identity Disorder?” I asked.

“No, my doctor has me on medication for depression and anxiety,” she answered.

“How did you discover that you have different personalities?” I asked.

She said, “John has helped me to understand different things about myself,” she said.

I started to get some information about her experiences. "Do you lose track of time... do you have amnesia? " I asked. 

"Yes," she answered.

"How often?"

"A lot."  

“Okay,” I began holding the transcripts that I had. “There are these other personalities that spoke to John, can you describe what that is like? Do they come out on their own and do you lose track of time when that happens?”

“Usually, John asks to talk to some of my alters,” she answered, adding, “sometimes I don’t know what happened when someone else is out.”

I was trying to find out when and how she first figured out that she had different personalities, but she couldn’t seem to remember.

"I understand that this can be confusing." I said, "or hard to talk about. Do you talk to your husband about this?"

"He knows that I have different parts," she answered, "and that I have been talking to John about this."  

"Okay." I then asked, "so, other than your doctor, have you seen another therapist or psychiatrist about these problems?"

"No, we weren't sure if anyone will believe us." 

"We?" I asked.

"Yes, there are others... inside."

"What's that like?" I asked.  

"Sometimes the others are talking, and I can hear them or see them... but it's not me."  

"Where are they now?  Or where do they go?" I asked.

"There are rooms inside," she answered adding “and places.”

"Rooms?" I asked. 

I had heard of this technique being used by therapists to talk about or to think about different ego states, as parts of us and how different rooms or locations where they might exist or live could be used as a metaphor. I had hypnotic scripts from the “Handbook of Hypnotic Suggestions and Metaphors” which is published by the American Society of Clinical Hypnosis (ASCH). 

I have heard about this in other settings as well. I did not expect a layperson to be using techniques like this nor did I know how John had learned to do these things. 

Jessica continued by saying, "It's like a big house with different bedrooms where different people live," she explained.  

"Did you create the house on your own?" I asked. 

"I don't know," she said.

I was thinking that while a formal diagnosis had not been made, we have to meet the client where they are. If Jessica related to the world as if she was a different person at different times, that is how I would have to proceed.

So, I asked, “Is there someone else that might want to talk and might have more information to share?”

"Do you want to talk to them?" she asked.  

"Sure," I said.  

After a brief pause, she said "Hi, Bruce." Her voice sounded younger and the "u" in Bruce sounded longer and accentuated like "oo".  

"Hi," I answered.  

"I'm Cindy. I'm six."

"Hi, Cindy. Are there others?" I asked since I had read the transcripts of chat conversations with John.

"Yes, there are other girls like me. There's Amanda, she's eight."

"How long have you been with Jessica?"  I asked.

"A long time, but she didn't know us for a long time."  

She had seemed like a child, indeed. While I was concerned that a proper diagnosis had not been made, I had to keep relating to Jessica through the others that would come out. 

In the next chapter, I will discuss how I understood I could help clients understand the nature of dissociation and dissociative disorders. It helps to understand these things so that the client knows that they are not alone and that others have had similar experiences.  

In the last chapter, I described Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD). Previous chapters highlighted a few other disorders that I was treating as well as problems and conditions for which clients sought my aid.  

These chapters are not sequential in nature. I didn't have just one focus in my practice. I was constantly involved in providing services to clients based on a wide range of issues that they brought to me seeking my aid, treatment, or support.

I didn’t describe treating Major Depression but that is a common disorder for which people seek treatment and I had clients with that problem. I was still treating eating disorders other than providing individual therapy to persons with anorexia.

People were coming to me for couples counseling, group therapy, and family therapy in addition to individual therapy. For example, I had a therapy group for persons with eating disorders.

Continuing Education into Trauma

As I was saying at the end of the last chapter, I was the president of the local chapter of the Society of Clinical Social Workers. It is in this role that we both network with other professionals, share our struggles or challenges as professionals, and learn about continuing education opportunities.

As president, I was looking to organize some training workshops that would provide continuing education credits. I had speculated about what happens when extreme trauma occurs early in life because I had heard of some relatively rare disorders, the most extreme of these is called Dissociative Identity Disorder (DID). This is in the DSM-IV – the diagnostic manual used by mental health professionals to diagnose disorders.

As an intern at the Oaks, I met someone that my mentor and supervisor Chris Hauge, DSW, LCSW, stated had DID. When I was working at Sampson County Mental Health Center, I had suspected that Nancy might have a dissociative disorder and possibly DID. 

My understanding based on all these experiences and others that I had not specifically described that dissociative disorders are trauma disorders and that the phenomena seen in a hypnotic trance are similar to the symptoms of dissociation.

The amount of other material to which I was exposed about stress, trauma, hypnosis/trance, and dissociation, is so extensive that I could write an entire book about that. DID seems to be the furthest end of a continuum of dissociative disorders in terms of severity and symptoms. 

Some of these phenomena of trance and/or dissociation are commonly experienced by all people. Forgetfulness happens to us all and it seems that it can be associated with something stressful, though at other times are memory is much clearer during times of stress or fear. Another common trance-like symptom is zoning out even while driving and not remembering any part of the trip.

I once heard a psychologist say she doesn’t believe in the unconscious, but I didn’t get a chance to get her to expand upon what she meant. Interestingly awareness of these conditions and the ideas about the unconscious seemed to develop around the same time around the turn of the twentieth century. Freud had started using hypnosis and then turned to other techniques. Many of his theories are hard to prove. 

So, we have DID as an extreme example among dissociative disorders and it is something that is rare. I wanted to learn more and see what other professionals in the field know. It made sense to kill two birds with one stone and set up a workshop so that other Clinical Social Workers could gain continuing education credits.

A Sinister Foreshadowing…

My own experiences in the future will be explained in part by what I was learning at this time in 1998. I would find out that extreme stress even if it doesn’t seem like trauma can cause some trance-like or dissociative symptoms – obviously not anything as extreme as DID. Note, I am saying that part of my future experiences could be explained by extreme stress!

A Continuing Education Workshop

I had been a member of the International Society for the Study of Trauma and Dissociation (ISSTD) and through that, I met Louise Coggins, who was a Licensed Clinical Social Worker as I was. I asked if she would provide training for Clinical Social Workers at a location in Wilmington.

It was late 1998 and into early 1999 when this was coming together. I don’t remember the details about how this came about because over two decades have passed since then. I recall traveling to Chapel Hill and the University of North Carolina campus for meetings that were part of a local chapter of ISSTD if I am not mistaken. Louise was someone I met up there.

DID was being discussed in ways that I was not aware of at the time – on the web and elsewhere. I’ll get to that later.

Naturally, I would want to announce this workshop in the newspaper so that other professionals would know about this chance to get additional continuing education credits. I could have just put it in a calendar section of the paper that would only be read by people looking for such things, but I thought I would see if I could get some exposure as a mental health professional. I definitely wasn’t looking to hold myself out as an expert on dissociative disorders or DID.

With that in mind, I approached the Wilmington Star-News, the major newspaper in Wilmington asking if they would do a story on this. Indeed, they were curious to write a story about a condition that is hard for people to understand but which simultaneously makes them curious. Schizophrenia is hard to understand for many people, but few are curious to learn more about it like they do with DID. 

Louise told me that she was going to bring a client of hers named Grace. I assumed that Grace had DID. Indeed, Grace had multiple different personalities or alters with different names.  

It seemed very brave of Grace to come forward and offer to do this - to share her own experiences with others who might be skeptical. DID has been met with skepticism, as I just noted.  

Louise and Grace would discuss many different aspects of treatment and many different topics that are important to understand when seeking to understand a mysterious disorder.   

I had not appreciated the meaning or implications of the term that Louise used in describing the abuse that Grace had experienced growing up. She said she had experienced ritual abuse. From a psychological perspective, the word 'ritual' can be used to mean routine or habit. It need not imply something religious or sacred.

I don’t remember the details about the interview with the journalist with the Star-News or the details of the article. It’s been so long that I don’t even remember the details of the workshop.

It was good to see my name in a newspaper. I felt like I had gained recognition. As a shy person, I had not expected to appear in the paper one day as president of a local chapter of Clinical Social Workers.

In the next chapter, I will expand upon the topic of DID and therapy.

[Disclaimer: I have used aliases to protect the confidentiality and identity of clients.]

Throughout this section of the book, I will present my experiences working with people who had various disorders, problems, or conditions. So, in case you are wondering, no, I didn’t stop focusing on one condition and move to the next. I am merely describing different treatments or issues in different chapters. 

Keep in mind that all this was happening at the same time. It’s not like I stopped treating the clients who had problems or issues that were described previously and moved onto other things. 

In addition, while it is true that psychotherapists do specialize in treating certain conditions, issues, or problems and they specialize in using certain techniques we also need to be eclectic – skilled in using various techniques depending on the problems that a client is facing. Actually, not every therapist is eclectic but many of us are.

I was keeping my options open, but I did have my own toolset that I brought to the treatment of various issues or problems.

Ever since I first got started in the psychiatric field, I was using the DSM-IV to make diagnoses that describe the problems that clients or patients were confronting when they sought treatment or were required to receive psychiatric care, i.e., they were involuntarily committed to a psychiatric facility. 

The DSM-IV is the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Psychiatric Disorders Volume IV (four). 

One particular class of disorders seemed to be particularly mysterious and controversial. Those are dissociative disorders. The most extreme of these disorders was Dissociative Identity Disorder (DID) which used to be called Multiple Personality Disorder (MPD). To me, these disorders did not seem any more unusual or perplexing than many other disorders.

If someone were to state that they are seeing or hearing things that are not there, we would not say they are just making that up. 

In addition, for me, hypnosis offered me some valuable insights into these mysterious conditions. During a hypnotic trance, we seek to alter a person’s consciousness and help them to focus on a particular stimulus, idea, or to visualize something. 

At this time, I was interested in learning about dissociative disorders, and I will describe this below. As a point of reference, the condition DID is only one of a variety of dissociative disorders. The understanding was that these were trauma disorders. If you are wondering what the heck a dissociative disorder is, I will be getting to that.

Trauma and Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD)

Before I discuss the treatment of or understanding of dissociative disorders, I wanted to talk about trauma disorders more broadly. In particular, I am describing Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD).

We can organize the symptoms of PTSD into an outline. This will be important in understanding what my own experiences were later in the book. I also noticed later that some of the symptoms of PTSD and/or dissociative symptoms can occur in response to events that do not seem to be “traumatic” from an objective standpoint.

So, to describe PTSD let’s consider the following points. 

First, we have exposure to or learning about events that could cause death, or that involve serious injury or sexual violence. 

Then we have intrusive symptoms. This can include involuntary and intrusive memories of the event, nightmares, flashbacks, heightened reactivity to stimuli that are similar to the traumatic event, and things such as a heightened startle response.

Third, we have avoidance symptoms that involve efforts to avoid triggers that remind us of the traumatic event. 

Forth, we have negative emotions and thoughts about the event and things related to the event.

Fifth, we have marked changes in arousal and reactivity. This can include a heightened startle response, heightened vigilance, irritability, trouble sleeping, and problems with concentration.

I could go on, but this is good enough to create an understanding of the problem or condition.

Treatment for The Traumatic Impact of Rape

When describing the impact of a traumatic rape on one particular client, let's call her Tina, I will be touching on a few of the many shifting symptoms (over time) that she had described to me. Now, due to confidentiality and the nature of this trauma, I am not going to get into the details.  

I can say that it was not at all remarkable to me that she chose to tell this to me as a male therapist. The feedback I have received over the years has been such that I knew how I came across as someone gentle, caring, easy to talk to, safe, accepting, and someone who had unconditional positive regard for everyone with whom I worked. 

Tina had stated that she had not gone to the police to report the rape. I wasn't there to encourage or discourage taking legal action because I happened to be focused on her reactions to the trauma.  

Clients do not come to their therapist asking for you to help them get justice, for the most part. We are asked to help as a witness though with them.  

I noted that for Tina her memories of the event were fragmented. She had not integrated everything as a narrative from start to finish. So, her memories of what she saw, heard, and felt were not integrated together. 

There was a technique that I learned from Neuro-Linguistic Programing (NLP) that I felt would help with this processing of the memories.  

Tina was not the only client that I had in private practice who had been victimized but the recent nature of her rape stands out.

Using this technique, which I adapted with the benefit of my training in hypnosis we reviewed the event as if it was being projected onto a screen in front of her. The theory was to see if we could do this without her becoming overwhelmed and unable to face it.  

My training in hypnosis would help with this. I had gained certification from the American Society of Clinical Hypnosis (ASCH) and had continued that training after that.

I used the words of Milton Erickson used "And my voice will go with you." It made sense to ground her in the here and now. We (she and I in agreement) wanted her to remain aware that she is currently safe while she reviews what happened. 

The theory is that traumatic memories are so disturbing that we have trouble watching them from start to finish and they become intrusive memories that flood our minds when something triggers the memories to return... 

In other words, some parts of the event and how they made Tina feel were causing the flashbacks and out-of-order snapshots of what happened.  

What we do as a therapist is to resonate with the client as they go through this process. We demonstrate empathy in this way.  

In working with Tina, I matched her breathing with my own, and the pacing of my words with her breathing.  

"You know you are safe now, right?" I asked.

"Yes."

"Are you ready?"

"Okay," she answered.

The following is an account of what I said to her as I guided her.

"Let's take some deep breaths... breathing in ... and out."

"That's right."

"I'm right here with you."

"You are safe."  

"Can you slide your chair to the side so that I hear you beside me instead of in front of me, coming at me?" she asked.  

"Okay," I said as I did this. 

"Breathing in... that's right... and out... calm and relaxed... calm and relaxed..."  

"If you would like you can close your eyes now ... that's right... good."  

"Imagine a safe place - someplace that is peaceful and safe for you."  

"There is a place by a stream that I like," she said.

Then I continued with the following:

"Good. Let us go there. Now, if you need to you can come here at any time to feel safe and serene. This is your safe place."  

"Now imagine a large screen, like a movie screen in front of you."

"You can project the images of what happened to you onto the screen, and you will be safe as you see what happened."

"You are not alone, and you are not being hurt now."  

So, this continued for a little while. The therapist tries to match the intensity of the feelings when they rise by speeding up their breathing together with the idea that we will be heading in the direction of safety and relaxation and to remove the association between these images and the fear that they cause at the moment.

The goal is to remove the triggers so that the event is remembered in full but there is no emotional reaction to the recollection of the event. The steadiness of the therapist is for anchoring to the present and to feelings of safety.     

I won't dishonor her by describing the fear she felt, her need to cry... her feelings of shame.  

She did need someone who was strongly grounded in the here and now, anchoring her - metaphorically. However, she didn't need me to be crying as well.  

There is a balance between empathy, compassion, and the solid support that a person needs.  

We made progress and she began the process of healing over time.  

One of the things that a therapist must do is to make sure that they do not become traumatized themself. There are ways to do this. It is somewhat amazing that it is possible to be so strongly connected and in tune with a person's feelings and experiences without becoming traumatized.

This is how empathy is managed. I knew that a balanced life was important and that is why I described the life that I had when I was not on the job helping others with depression, PTSD, eating disorders, or other problems.  

Understanding and Treating Dissociative Disorders                    

Through my work with trauma survivors like Tina, I began to wonder what could or would happen to a person who was hurt as a child. I had experienced abuse growing up and it had made a big impact on my life - including my decision of what career to pursue. 

You hear horror stories about children being victimized by parents, guardians, and other trusted people who should help us form healthy attachments, feel safe in the world, and help us to learn and explore our world.  

The coping strategies employed by adults are probably less creative than those employed by children. That seems to stand to reason. A child might try to mentally escape from something painful, shameful, or traumatic.  

I decided to join the International Society for the Study of Trauma and Dissociation (ISSTD). My study of clinical hypnosis opened up a window into the world of dissociative disorders as ways to deal with trauma.  

In my role as a mental health professional, I was always looking for ways to advance and grow… to learn new skills. I mentioned that I was a member of the local chapter of the Society of Clinical Social Workers. 

At about this time, when I was still new with my private practice, I was granted the role of president of the New Hanover County, Wilmington, NC chapter of the Society of Clinical Social Workers. 

Where that leads will be described in the next chapter.

During and just before my senior year in college, as an undergraduate at Georgia Tech (as opposed to my later graduate studies), I was assaulted with some shocking news. 

Let me fill in a few tidbits that will be important to consider later. Just before I started my senior year in college, I got a call from my sister. She reported that she had been assaulted by both of our parents. She was extremely emotional and distraught. She was about 19 and had started going to a community college in Florida after graduating from high school.  

Let’s back up a bit. After I started at Georgia Tech, my father got laid off and then got a job in Florida. Carrie, my brother John, and my parents related to Hobe Sound Florida from Connecticut. This was a long-distance move of 1300 miles. Carrie was still in high school when this happened.

I got the call as I was starting my senior year at Georgia Tech. I was glad to be someone with whom she felt she could share this news. She described what she and her friend had discussed. I knew which friend she meant as she described the matter. To be honest, I didn’t know this girl that was friends with Carrie, but I can remember it was the friend that was incredibly sexy. I’m just saying this to fill in the most minimal of cues.

Obviously, by now, dear reader, you understand that I am not shallow, but I do notice things. I had some conversation via email with Carrie last year in 2020 about this and at first, it sounded like she was going to tell me she forgot it. So, I blurted out, “you had talked to your friend who was that sexy girl.” 

Anyway, back to 1988. Carrie was attacked but she said they didn't call the police. She and her friend had decided when they are talking after she was attacked by both our parents that "next time they would have to call the police."  Instead, she moved.  

We used to fight growing up but then we got closer to each other. The fact that she told me something so emotional never left my memory over all these decades. 

They had said "Next time."  Yes, there would be a "next time."  We had been abused growing up.    

I remember not knowing how to act around our parents when I came there for Christmas and before the next quarter at Georgia Tech. If I was too friendly with Mom and Dad, would Carrie think that I condoned what was done to her?  She definitely knew that I knew this was so wrong!

My brother had an easier time because he was 5 foot eleven and could stand up to our father.  

There are other things that I remember about that time period that might have indirectly created problems between my parents and me.  

I started feeling good about myself because of the support I was getting at school/college from both my counselor and some very good friends, Thomas and Jo Lee. I don’t have clear memories of what I shared but just that I discussed the various forms of abuse with both of them.  

Anyway, when my parents came to my graduation, Thomas and Jo-Lee were there as well. I had not told my parents that I had needed to reach out to friends for support. The way in which I grew in self-esteem made me feel so much better about myself. I had self-compassion. As such, I felt the confidence and comfort to share my experiences with my good friends.  

At my graduation, Jo Lee made the most effort to be cordial with my parents. She had her "feelings" though about the things that happened to me which they caused and about me having been hurt. For my friend Thomas, it was much harder to act friendly and cordial because of what he knew. He was a much quieter person than Jo Lee. So, what was interesting was that after graduation, my mother said that she got along fine with Thomas, but she didn't feel comfortable talking with Jo- Lee.  

If she only knew how much more intensely Thomas felt toward them, she would have been even more shocked. Obviously, she picked up on the tension, and put two and two together. However, her way of dealing with it was to deny, deny, deny among those who had been present like my siblings and me. I am NOT saying that the topic of abuse was ever broached at all by any of us. Thomas, Jo-Lee, my parents, and I had tried to find things to talk about, but you could sense the tension. 

In terms of her denial as a coping mechanism, I began to realize she even fooled herself into forgetting things.

It was against this backdrop that I moved in with my parents after graduation without realizing or considering the tension that would characterize our very strained relationship during the next two years, and a few months before I moved on to live on my own when I got a job in a new city - Wilmington, North Carolina.  

In the next chapter, I will begin to discuss this next chapter of my life.  The next chapter would be a life full of far greater joy, love, and success than I had already known.  

Some people have questions like what happened to my first wife, Lynn. She died in 2015, I found out. From cancer. There had been no "we" for all these years. Merely talking about her and what happened has been so painful.

Before I met Elee, my second wife, I had tried to get back with Lynn, but it never worked out. As I said in the last chapter, the times when I saw her down in Wilmington were very awkward and surreal. What could my friend Thomas do? Other than understanding what I must have been feeling.

I couldn't say anything when she was right next to me.

I had been more comfortable with her than with anyone else in my life. We had trusted each other implicitly. We had such a connection. I had stated the fact that I would have done anything imaginable to hold onto a relationship with Lynn. That fact cannot be understated.

I should have said something when she was right next to me. I had previously tried so hard. I didn't want to call her after a certain point about three years after we had started living our own lives - she with her mother and me in another city.

I had asked others to contact her and convey how much I felt for her. Obviously, those who heard my story were moved to call her and to convey this information. I had hoped to get some information that might lift my spirits.

I believe it was too painful for her to have to move on without me. I didn't want to cause her more pain. I don't know how she dealt with the memories of when we were in love.

I am so sorry!

Lynn had this survivalist instinct due to her illness. After we watched "Titanic" we were discussing the movie with a friend of hers who had cystic fibrosis like her. Her friend and I had agreed that we would jump back into the boat as the girl did to be with the guy.

Lynn disagreed. We had been living together for years at that point. So, I guess she was saying that she would not jump back into the boat to be with me. I know with one hundred percent certainty that I would jump back to be with her if she was in peril instead of getting into the rescue boats that would result in my near-certain survival.

I would NEVER be able to go to safety on a rescue boat with Lynn in a sinking ship. She would not find any justification in dying on a sinking boat just to be with me a bit longer. She might have found it senseless to stay on a sinking ship. I would have done anything to be with her, to help and protect her, no matter what.

So, there was a combination of factors that kept me paralyzed from contacting her from 2003 until her death in 2015. I had not wanted to make her life more painful. What I was going through was extremely traumatic for me and she was in survival mode.

There was another occasion when I almost spoke to Lynn during another awkward moment, years after we had been apart.

It was in late 2009.

Jean had invited me to come to a lounge on a Saturday evening in downtown Wilmington. He told me he was having a workshop for poets. We would share a poem to be workshopped. We would read it and ask for support or feedback from the group.

I had called him earlier that afternoon from Wrightsville Beach near Johnny Mercer's Pier.

I had been here at this location not long ago... up at the front area is where they have the poetry readings and music. I don't think this place existed in the 90s.

I have some videos of me reading some poetry at that location.

This next one here is a video of Jean Introducing me.
 

I heard Lynn would be there.

My mind had been racing with ideas about what I would or should say to Lynn if I said anything. This would be an interactive event... My heart raced throughout the next few hours as I headed in that direction.

What would I say?

Recently, I figured out in my mind that I had been a good person - always. So, the idea that I was undeserving of her was a false belief I had back then. It's sad that I figured this out after she died!

I had gotten so close to saying something on another occasion earlier as I mentioned in the previous chapter.

That evening came... I was told to go to the room in the back by Jean.

A few people were talking and then they left the room. Lynn was standing there - alone. I was right nearby.

Had others planned this? Left us in a dark, quiet, private room.

I was thinking and at the same time, my mind was trying to muster the willpower to do or say something. I was thinking of something to say. My heart pounded hard in my chest. I felt frozen – not cold but motionless. I was composing thoughts "I... I what?"

I imagined myself saying "I love you." and her answer would be "I know."

Wow! I just realized what a cliché that would be. It's right out of "The Empire Strikes Back" when Han Solo is being frozen in carbonite and Lea tells him. "I love you."

I'm sure I would have broken down, falling to my knees, weeping bitterly, crying "I love you so much. I NEVER stopped being in love with you."

My mind's a bit blank as I think back to what happened after that uncomfortable moment when I was there alone, close enough to touch Lynn.

Others filed into that room from the front. They took seats. Four to my right. Jean is the "leader" – he sat on the right. Three on my left. And then Lynn. My hands and arms were trembling. My breathing was fast and shallow. I'm sure others could hear me nearly hyperventilating.

The rotation was coming around toward me. I had selected a poem that I wrote called "Fugue State." A fugue state is a symptom of some dissociative disorders. I said they are caused by "trauma", but I could have just said extreme stress or distress. I had written this about the dark times I had known not too long ago.

Sometimes I don't know what I want to say until I say it. Below is the poem that I wrote. It's in free verse.

(I realized later that it was the imagery of dreams, disorientation, desolation, and despair are that I was trying to convey. I didn't know how to do this with rhyme or metered verse.)

Holding the poem in my hand I begin to read.

Fugue State:

In the dream...
I think it's a dream -
I'm not sure how I got
here or where I was going.

It's dark.
I look at the street signs
that I walk past,
and for a time I'm
not finding any that I recognize.

Then I begin to think
that things look a bit
familiar but I'm...
uncertain.
I want to run
but I'm tired
and unsure how far
I have to go.

I try to remember
but nothing comes to mind
to explain
how I got here...
where I am going...
where I live -
where my home is -
or if I have a home.

I don't seem to be injured.
I want to remember...
I begin to question
whether I even know
for certain
who I am?

The people I pass
look unfriendly -
not dangerous;
they just don't convey
anything resembling kindness
or friendship.
They don't know me.
They don't pay much attention.

What should I say anyway?
Ask them to tell me who I am?
Or ask where I am?
I cannot ask how to get
where I am going
because I do not know that.

I don't know if I am afraid of the ridicule
or convinced of the futility
in even trying to get help.

I want to fall down on my knees
and cry... cry out to someone,
"Please help me!"

But I'm paralyzed by my fear
and all I can do
is keep walking
and hoping that somehow
things will become clear
and make sense.

--------------

I can't remember the feedback that I got.

When it came around to her, to offer feedback on my poem, she said "I pass."

I got up moments later, the feelings were overwhelming me. I walked out into the night, moving fast. I stopped into a bookstore and looked at some books. I got a call from Thomas, who was on the way.

"Okay, I'm heading back there, I'll see you in a little while," I said to Thomas.

I returned and took a seat near Jeff Wyatt in that front room near the bar. He had been friends with Lynn and me just like Thomas had been. He went into massage therapy at some point.

Here's a video of Jeff Wyatt reading poetry at the Word Salad Poetry Event. Lynn wasn't at the lounge that particular evening.

I suppose that my last words to Lynn were "Fugue State." My life had been like a bad dream... I had existed without an identity for a while... lost... without direction... without a sense of where to go or where my home was or where it might be someday.

I had not thought that was a very good poem until recently. As I read this recently within the past year or so, I thought "wow, that was good... that is poignant in the way that I convey such feelings and experiences that are so hard to convey." 

I wasn't even mentioned in her obituary.

To this day that hurts so much to think about it.

I mean it really hurts. My tears blur my eyes and roll down my cheeks as I write this in 2021. It feels wrong that I didn't try harder when she was right next to me.

There was no closure. I had failed to just say those words. I love you!

And with that, I will end this book.

Please look for more of my memoirs. This is part of a series of memoirs or autobiographical stories. 

I dedicate this chapter to my dear friend Thomas Childs, who continues to live in me and in my memories of a very important part of my life. There is a Thomas-sized hole in me that I will never fill in; it's my way of keeping him alive.

I took the photograph of Thomas above in 2008 down by the Cape Fear River near the Battleship.

Sadly, Thomas passed away in 2010, or he would be writing a recommendation for this book. He would recommend this like he recommended my poetry collection, which you can find on Wattpad also - it's called "What Really Matters."

Just like he did for that book, he would say that he is "honored to be asked by me to recommend that you read this." Trust me. I know my friend.

Some of my most meaningful and lasting relationships of mine were formed beginning in the early 1990s. Second, only to Lynn and Celta, was my friend Thomas Childs and my second wife who hasn't been introduced yet. Obviously, my connection to Lynn had a romantic component that was lacking in all other types of friendships such as my friendship with Thomas. However, that doesn't exclude him from being considered a part of my family.

As I write this, I am thinking of the song Empty Garden by Elton John. The lines that stand out are "a gardener like that one, no one can replace... and I've been knocking... most of the day...and I've been calling."

This was a time when I felt really connected to a group of people - a social circle. That being said, some of us really clicked. Thomas was one such person in particular with whom I felt really comfortable. We felt a sense of belonging to each other. This was my family. I felt at home in this life that I had.

It's amazing when you can sit down together and not worry about stilted conversations. Not worry about what you should say. Not worry about if you are okay or not. Not worry about whether you made the grade or are good enough.

I could talk to Thomas on the phone for hours when we connected sometime after I had been through my own dark time, or dark night of the soul as it were. I wish I had reached out to Thomas during those dark years. We could have supported each other.

Lynn had wished I kept in touch with our friends when she became ill in 2000. I felt like I had abandoned my friends. For those dark years that began in 2000 and lasted until sometime in 2006, I tried to make it on my own.

That was the biggest mistake I ever made in life!

Then in late 2006 or early 2007, I came down to Wilmington from Chapel Hill. I met Jean - a mutual friend - at the bus station and I asked about Thomas.

We picked up as if no time had passed. I would speak for hours on the phone with my dear friend. We had the same interests of course and so we could find things to share. TV shows or movies that we should watch.

Current events. Our writing. Things to laugh about together. Commentary on things. Philosophical ideas. Reminiscing.

"Oh, dear Thomas, I could have used your help, my friend. It was so hard when Lynn got ill in 2000. She said she wished I had kept in touch. I could have just picked up the phone.

"I was so scared. This wasn't supposed to happen to Lynn at just 34. We had a life planned; it was perfect."

"The biggest mistake was not calling and telling you what was happening, my dear friend."

Instead, I wallowed in the misery of what was happening.

Had I called Thomas, I would have discussed the challenges I was facing in my practice and in my career, as well.

I used to share some of the things I was learning with my friends.

Let me tell you more about this, dear reader. About this part of my story. It's about the importance of friendship.

It's so important in times of stress. Emotional support is key.

We had a social network of friends, as I was saying. This was from the poetry scene. I was part of this group. This was my social life. We felt we were doing something important, together.

Indeed, we were. Thinking. Writing. Sharing ideas. Creative ideas.

Our group included in the beginning, Thomas Childs (my friend), Lynn Krupey (girlfriend, fiancée, wife), Dusty (didn't catch her last name), Jean Jones, David Capps, Jeff Wyatt, (David) DJ Ray. I could live within the sanctuary of these people and the scene, as it were.

There was something comfortable, safe, and meaningful about this reality.

This was our time to become something. I was going to be defined by all of this and the relationships that I was building. I was growing up and forming a family... a family of choice.

Arriving on the Scene and Necessary Balance in Life

I could have been afraid and failed to attend that poetry reading at the Coastline Convention Center in April of 1992, and thought to myself, "I can't read my own poetry in front of others."

What good would it be to show up and be a ghost? What good would it be to sit there and watch others all the while thinking about how I don't fit in?

I can't imagine how my life would have been if I had not come out for this poetry reading that first week. I might not have met Lynn and shared a life with her. I might not have had the confidence to pursue my dreams.

That confidence grew out of the events that happened when I did decide to attend that poetry reading. It demonstrated to me that I could speak in front of a group and be the center of attention. I learned that I had something special to offer to others.

Through my relationships and connections with others back then, my life was transformed. I had not been in a good place before that time when I first arrived in Wilmington. Friendships like I had with Thomas and the relationship I had with Lynn were so valuable and they nurtured something special in me. I was able to give that to others as well.

This book might not have existed and you dear reader, might not have known me at all. I came with ideas about what might or would likely bring me happiness and meaning in life. And that is what I found.

That's what shyness can do. It can paralyze you and prevent you from making the connections.
 

Yet, I felt a need to share. To give my gifts as Dusty would say. Dusty was the emcee who worked at the Coastline Convention Center.

Dusty said that we were "sharing our gifts." I thought I was sharing something personal. Lynn wrote for herself; I would grow to learn. But Dusty said these were "our gifts." Wow!

Indeed, sharing something of yourself with another is a gift.

Some might say that we were a bunch of idealistic artists, but I had come there with a degree in engineering, which would be the springboard for graduate education in Social Work and toward becoming a Clinical Social Worker.

It might be more accurate to say that I have had values, passions, and interests than to say I was just idealistic.

The creative side of me might have been somewhat aligned with the values that drive a person to pursue a career in social work.

To us who work in the field of mental health, we need the support of others. The work can be rather frustrating. The work can also take a toll on you as you support those who have been hurt by life or harmed by others.

Spending hours with people who are overwhelmed by major depression and anxiety disorders can and does take a toll on you. You need balance and support in life. Emotional support.

In order to be a social worker, I learned social skills and how to deal with what I called shyness. Those same skills allowed me to share myself with others in my personal and social life outside school, training, the job, and everything else.

I wrapped myself in the warmth of the friendships I had formed. Back in the 90s, the welcoming nature of Dusty was always a source of comfort. I could show up for drinks at the Coastline Convention Center if I was feeling overwhelmed and alone, and Dusty would make me feel welcome and expected.

She would seem to have this genuine interest in me and was so glad that I showed up. Later, she would ask about Lynn, of course. I would feel less and less alone but occasionally overwhelmed by things in life.

I remember the warmth of Lynn would envelop me as we sat on the beach at Wrightsville Beach during cold winter nights. That memory would sustain me as well.

Then it was the comfort of a friendship like I had with Thomas. Again, our conversations were so comfortable, and the time together felt comfortable. Not stilted or desperately searching for something to keep the conversation going.

In a larger sense, this was a time and place that I knew was something amazing. Everything seemed so right and comfortable. I knew I was on the right path and that everything was going right.

I had a sense of belonging.

I knew who I was and what I wanted. We as friends would talk about the struggles, challenges, and doubts which existed from time to time in our lives.

Changes in the Late 90s and Into the Next Century

At some point, I regrettably got over-invested in the job beginning in mid-1999. I only allowed time with Lynn and those times when her family came with their kids which I mentioned earlier in this book.

So, unfortunately, I allowed myself to stop spending time with my friends, and my social life of writing and attending poetry readings was not happening. It was a crucial missing piece.

Fast forward to the summer of 2007, and I started visiting the area again. Life in Durham had not been rewarding in any way.

Anyway, on one of those visits back, Jean was having a poetry reading in celebration of a new chapbook of his poetry being released.

This was one of those visits back to the place I had called home. I was happy to see my new friend, Ryan. I was thrilled to see my new friend, Ana – obviously not the Ana that attacked me. I was thrilled to see Thomas and Jean. I was happy to see David Capps (he had been part of the scene back in 1992, though he was inscrutable to me).

Here is a video of Ana Ribeiro reading poetry at the Word Salad Poetry Magazine Event in Wilmington in October of 2009. In the video, we are at the lounge where I saw Lynn again as described in the next chapter. This is not the same location where Jean was releasing his new chapbook, so it's a different evening than what I am describing.

Here is a video of David Capps reading poetry. He was there this evening that I am describing but the video is from a different evening.
 

I knew Lynn would be there and so it was a bit surreal. There was no longer a "we" which was what made this surreal. It's hard for me to explain. I felt queasy and I had a knot in my stomach.

This was a reality that I had never envisioned. She had gotten new lungs and so she was still living, but there was no "we."

The autobiography of my life would need to include this reality. Thomas was that glue in that he had been our mutual friend - a dear friend who had been part of "our" shared life together.

He had navigated the roads of time maintaining a relationship with us both. Jeff Wyatt had been a mutual friend as well, but I seemed to sense that he was a bit colder than he had been in the past. I couldn't quite put my finger on it.

Thomas, Lynn, and I had been mutual friends but now there was no "we" that was Lynn and me. This wasn't supposed to happen, and it just felt so uncomfortable for me.

There had been no breakup and things had been so vague and confusing all these years.

Knowing Lynn was going to be there made me tremble, my heart was racing with anxiety. A good bit of alcohol made this only slightly more bearable.

I could sense Lynn nearby while I spoke to David Capps. My face was flush not just from the alcohol. My heart was racing, pounding.

I wanted to find something to say to Lynn with every fiber of my being. But I couldn't do it. I just felt uncomfortable. Lynn and I talked about everything – we even fought and got over it. Thomas and I had not argued nor had Celta and me before that. It seemed to me that being able to get into an argument and get over it, move past was a sign of how much more comfortable I had been with Lynn than anyone else.

This was frustrating so I stepped outside through the side door as people were milling about. I had noticed Thomas step outside. Ana was there too, talking to Thomas. Ana had not been part of the scene in the 90s.

I tried to bring up the topic of my discomfort with Thomas. This wasn't the first time I brought up the topic with him. What could he do? What could he say? I couldn't make sense of this new reality.

I did remember how in the early 2000s, I had enlisted people I met on Facebook to contact Lynn prior to this evening. They heard the story and were moved to call Lynn. She was polite but we never got anywhere.

I was still carrying the weight of profoundly low self-worth. I had no sense of worth as a person and whether we call it shyness or something else, we have to take action, or nothing will happen.

Sadly, Lynn might not have known that I still loved her or was in love with her...but she probably did.

I mean whoever these people were who called her they were moved with such a profound feeling of inspiration to want to connect Lynn and me again.

Life Changes

Later, Thomas had been happy to find out that I met someone else that I was going to marry.

Her name is Elnaz Rezaei Ghalechi (Elee). We got married in Ankara, Turkey. She had been submitting poetry to Word Salad, which was being published by Jean and me. Word Salad Poetry Magazine was started by Lynn and me in 1995. Later, Jean became the co-editor and co-publisher.

Thomas was a brilliant poet as well. I am sure we published some of his poetry.

Elee and I married in November of 2010 and when I got back, I found the news on a voicemail and on Facebook.

My dearest friend Thomas had died. He had died of a heart attack.

When I first heard the news, it didn't register. I had just seen him. I had spoken to him and he was happy for me. We had so much more to discuss!

No!

Elee responded appropriately. She was on the other side of the world and yet she understood better than my own sister. Elee consoled me as anyone would respond to news of this nature.

I started drinking when I heard the news about Thomas. My mind became a smooth flowing river. I thought this was a way to cope but it wasn't. It just made me sick.

Whatever was inside me wanted out and I clutched a table to stay alive. I fell to my knees due to a combination of grief and what the alcohol had done to me.

I had not made it to the funeral. I felt such shame for that. Would I have found the strength to speak to the crowds at his funeral? I think I might have done so. I wasn't the same person I once was but I could and would have had words to say. Or maybe I would have cried and cried.

Both.

It's hard to describe the hole that is left by a dear friend. It's hard to describe friendship and the love that we felt.

For someone like me to be at a loss for words is something in itself! I'm usually rather verbose... but what words can convey the specific things that connect two people and create that comfort among one another?

Had I made it down there, I would have found the words. I would come to feel great shame for years... To not even make it to the funeral of your dearest friend!

Anything I would have said about his brilliance should have been known by anyone there, but I would gladly repeat and confirm it. I can say that he is not gone! He lives in me and can't be taken away as long as I live and can write.

That's what I would tell his family!

That's the point of all these chapters that move between the past and the present... in this single chapter, I've covered events that have spanned eighteen years in this chapter, and each year, month, or day flow around one another in one stream of consciousness full of sound and fury, signifying everything!

What I most wanted to say was something only Thomas would understand. What we had was ours! It was for us and it was epic!

Dear reader, did you expect something less hyperbolic to come from me? You should know me better by now!

Writers like me are loath to employ trite statements that just sound like what you are supposed to say when you speak of someone who has passed. No, when I write, I mean it quite literally and explicitly.

There are so many times in which I have thought, "this reminds me of Thomas," "I would love to talk to Thomas about this" or "I should talk to Thomas about this, he would appreciate it."

The past is there in me. We are all together in that home that Lynn and I shared on Brucemont Dr. in Wilmington... or at a bookstore... maybe a coffee shop down by the Cape Fear River. I am haunted by the ghosts of the past, but that's a good thing!

I'm not going to try to summarize a friendship that began in 1992 and lasted nearly two decades until his death. The formality of a funeral has passed. On such occasions we find the necessary strength and words to speak.

Later, we realize how much was left unsaid and how much cannot be known by anyone besides the one we lost, in this final paragraph of this chapter, that person is Thomas Childs. 

Diane was Lynn's mother. In my healing, I have come to forgive myself for my mistakes and to love myself. To develop a sense of self-compassion. It was devastating to discover that I was not mentioned in Lynn's obituary. We will get to my reflections upon that in a moment.

Dear Diane:

What I am about to write is not about me or for me. I need to honor Lynn and her legacy ... to talk to the world about her value. I'm not writing this letter for personal reasons.

I wanted to announce a book that I wrote that honors Lynn and what she offered the world. This letter is a chapter from that book. It's up to you if you want to read the book. It's my autobiography but Lynn features prominently in the book. I titled it "Memoirs of a Healer/Clinical Social Worker – Autobiography of Bruce Whealton." It can be found online.

I spend a large portion of the book trying to make sense of what happened in 2000 to me. At some point during this period, I heard that you thought I needed to have learned more about emotional intelligence. And you thought that my impulses were not in check.

I couldn't forgive myself for not being there for Lynn when she needed me in 2000 when she got sick. I never reached out like this because I imagined I didn't deserve any compassion or understanding. I understood what I would feel about anyone who caused Lynn any pain.

So, I get it. Let me repeat it. I know how I would feel toward anyone who caused Lynn any pain!

I wish I could have helped with the obituary or contributed toward telling the world how special Lynn was.

We might think, "well, that's okay, Lynn didn't have anything to prove, or she wasn't looking for recognition in her actions."

I know differently – at least when she was with me. She loved that I had been willing to declare my love loud and clear for anyone who would listen. I give examples of his in this book.

Take, for example, a time when I got up in front of a group of people at the poetry reading at the Coastline Convention Center and read a new poem – a love poem – that everyone knew was about Lynn and dedicated to Lynn. She had been doodling because she thought I was going to read only poems she already heard. She felt so embarrassed when she realized what she missed.

After that, she would read that poem of mine on various occasions - the poem that was dedicated to her, about my love for her, when it was her turn to share at some poetry reading - and when perhaps she didn't have something to read of her own.

As I was saying, this letter is part of a chapter in a book that does just that. It's my autobiography.

Diane, you are right, I was acting crazy in 2000. I know I was supposed to be there for Lynn. But when it came to matters of the heart, my personal life, my choice of Lynn, I was driven by my passions.

And it seems like we are dishonoring Lynn by not acknowledging or accepting her judgment during those years we were together!

Lynn wanted someone crazy in love with her! Do not EVER doubt that I was not totally and completely in love with Lynn. That is something that can be known to be true above all else!

There are few things in life that I know or believe for certain. My love for Lynn is one of those things that I know with absolute certainty.

There might be many things that one might say about these things, but no one can say that I stopped loving Lynn ever or that I wasn't still totally and completely in love with Lynn even during the 2000s!

During that next decade, I was still in love with Lynn. I would break down in tears ten years after we went on a different path.

I have no idea what Lynn was going through. I was afraid that reaching out to her directly would cause her pain by reminding her of the love we once had that had not lasted. I have no idea if that was the right choice.

I used to ask people who I met on Facebook. They were nice and I was only giving them her phone number which was available to the public. They were really moved by the love I had conveyed and my desperation. I heard a few of them did call her but we didn't get anywhere.

I didn't know what to do.

I made a new friend who was a writer named Ryan Miller who was introduced to me by Jean Jones – a mutual friend of Lynn and mine. I would stay with him when I visited Wilmington and I would share stories about my life with Lynn, revisiting places where we had gone.

To this day, I do not have a full understanding of what was going on with me during a period in 2000 – I think it was mainly just in August. I have tried with the guidance and counseling of others to find those answers.

It might have seemed like I had a long-lasting problem but I think that Lynn would have noticed such a problem. 

It wasn't like I was always that same person that let down Lynn when she needed me and did such crazy things. To believe that would be to dishonor Lynn and her judgment. Winning, earning, deserving the love of Lynn was NOT something I took for granted. For all those years, I would think about how lucky I was and how much I needed to continue to deserve Lynn's love.

I couldn't believe when I saw her in mid-1992 that she didn't already have someone in her life.

Then when I gave her an engagement ring, I saw tears of joy and there has not been a more joyful moment in my life - I was overjoyed that I could make her that happy! We had picked out the ring together and I thought she knew I was coming with the ring that day. I was taken by surprise when I saw the happiness that I brought to her. I'll never forget that.

What I am saying is that I could not possibly have been in my right mind back in 2000 when she decided and told me that she wasn't coming back home. I wasn't myself.

I had so many draft letters that I consulted with therapists upon that I meant to send to Lynn.

Earning her love was the single greatest accomplishment in my life. To lose that... to hear that she might not or isn't coming back home... I was speechless.

Lynn saw something was happening to me. She said she wished I had kept in touch with our friends because she couldn't provide the support I needed.

There was no closure. Lynn didn't say "I need you to get help before we can go on together because you are acting crazy" nor did she previously state that she knew I wasn't strong enough to bear the weight of what would happen when her health would get worse. I would not have hesitated to get the help I needed so I could be here for Lynn.

I came to feel worthless and undeserving of her after what happened. I also had no idea what she was feeling or wanting later. I certainly didn't want to cause her any more pain. The way I was in 2000 at a certain point during that year, was completely different than the way I had been.

Sometime in 2009, I went to a poetry workshop that Lynn attended as well. I was in the same room with Lynn, she was right next to me. My heart was racing. I was so nervous and confused. I couldn't form any words. It almost seemed like someone had created this opportunity... but I wasn't able to realize if that was true or not.

The poem I read was called "Fugue State." I suppose I had been lost and confused, in fog, without Lynn.

Then when it came around to her to comment, she said "I pass." I had already been shaking and nearly hyperventilating. Within moments I got up and went out into the night walking.

I did not know I would go crazy when Lynn got really sick, and I had feared losing her, forever. It doesn't mean I loved her less than you did. My experience was that of being completed by Lynn and unable to exist without her. So, when she got sick and might die, I felt like I was dying.

Again, I had survivor's guilt and felt it was wrong to make excuses for myself. 

There was a moment when I just shut down while you wanted me to pack up things from the house as you were selling it. I wasn't trying to be difficult nor was I acting out. I have studied the Polyvagal Theory recently and it seems that what happened was that I had reverted to the primitive brain's method of coping by shutting down.  I was drawing inward and away from the higher brain functions that are typical of social animals.

Something inside of me died during that time period.

It is my hope that trusting Lynn's judgment is a valuable way to think about the life we had. She would not have stayed with me if she doubted my life, saw me as an unhealthy person for her - unhealthy psychologically.  

The psychologists who were hired by the social work licensure board spent all of one afternoon assessing me. They found things that Lynn had never seen. They found things that none of my counselors, psychologists, or therapists noticed. 

They found and arrived at conclusions that I didn't challenge because I was not well at the time. I had survivor's guilt, a lack of self-compassion and self-love, and other problems. I am merely pointing out that what it might have seemed like was that there was something wrong with me that was best kept from Lynn. That's what I felt and why I didn't return to pursuing Lynn like I once had.

Lynn wasn't shy about telling me what was not acceptable! About where I might want to improve or what I needed to work on.

Crazy in love is just that. I felt like I was going crazy at the thought that I would not have Lynn!

Lynn wanted that or she would not have stayed with me as long as she did.

I think everyone should know that if Lynn truly doubted that I was in love with her more than anyone or anything else, she would NOT stay with me. With my book, they will know this.

That was real.

Year after year, I lived as someone who wanted to be your son-in-law.

Lynn wanted someone who came and apologized right away when I said something hurtful. She wanted someone who didn't let us stay angry at each other for long.

I would apologize profusely and demonstrate how sad I was to have upset Lynn. She saw that and knew that. I always felt that I could not take for granted having Lynn and that she could and would leave me if I was disrespectful toward her or if I wasn't making her happy.

If she doubted that I was in love with her, I believed at the time that she would leave me. This is me saying that Lynn was so special that I felt lucky to be chosen by her and I was so desperate not to do anything at all that would cause me to lose her.

I never found an instruction book with answers to what one should do if anything like this happens or if one finds oneself in the situation in which I found myself beginning at some point in 2000.

Even now I understand my choice of words might sound odd because I am talking about things happening to me instead of my actions or inaction. I often felt like I couldn't find self-compassion regarding these matters because I didn't have a disease that was threatening my life. However, I had been overwhelmed beyond my capacity to cope. If anyone saw that coming, I would have welcomed their counsel and acted upon it.

There was no formal discussion between Lynn and me about going our separate ways. I had been visiting her at your home. Then she said she might not be coming back.

Just as so much that was good about our relationship didn't need to be said, we knew it before it was said, so had Lynn slipped out of my life. I knew what it meant when she said she might not be coming back but neither of us wanted to say what it meant. All I knew was that she had to focus on her health and that she couldn't help me – it was too stressful for her.

Did that mean she lost her love? I never let myself contemplate that. She had a strong survivalist instinct. I find some slight comfort in knowing that her desire for my happiness and success was part of the reason why what was happening to me overwhelmed her. It's not a real comfort but it's a reflection of the fact that she did understand better than I did what was wrong with me at the time.

Instead, I became aimless and without a sense of what to do to get Lynn back. 

Should I have tried harder to get her back? Should I have contacted her directly instead of letting others reach out to her? Those questions will haunt a part of me forever. 

When asked recently if I was over her, it was obvious to the person asking, I think, that the answer was no. 

In the years later, I lost all the photographs of the life we had. The way the house was packed up and the life we had was deconstructed made everything so hard without closure. I am trying to honor her and create a memorial for her. 

I could use some photographs of her and I hope you can find it in your heart to let me honor her memory.