What is real?
Lesson from a psychiatrist
Over the past few years, I have had many a medical appointment. Not my favourite pastime but a necessary one to ensure that I maintain my physical and mental health and stay fixed to the path of recovery from PTSD.
Recently I met with a psychiatrist with whom I met only once before, over a year ago. On the first occasion, our meeting was around 10 minutes duration and he graciously advised that he didn’t wish to force me to re-live my experiences. This was an immense relief to me as having to explain oneself and the experiences we faced time and time again, simply exposes us to more trauma and anxiety.
On this occasion, our discussion took a turn. After providing an update as to my current status and treatments, we got onto the topic of identity. I have much to say regarding this issue as, for former police members, being thrust into civilian life whether by choice or otherwise is an incredibly destabilising experience. The training one received upon entry effectively strips you bare and rebuilds you within a vastly different world view. You operate within that myopic and destructive world view for extended periods of time and it taints every part of your life.
Unfortunately, as you leave, there is no debrief, no deprogramming to assist you to operate in the ‘real’ world again. Former members, myself included, find themselves lost, cut off from their brotherhood, disconnected from the institution that has become their protection and unable to find anything to do that fulfils the vast void that they now find themselves disoriented within. One day you have a very clear purpose, to help those in need, to solve complex issues, to deal with critical incidents, to manage investigations and seek justice, the next, you have no purpose, no direction, no idea and no assistance to help you transition.
This psychiatrist provided a perspective on this issue that was incredibly refreshing to me and I thought it may help someone else if I share it.
He explained to me that he had been seeing a client, a medical practitioner who had built a very successful career over two decades, had a young family and all the external indications of wealth and success. However, they were very unhappy, didn’t wish to continue but felt that there was no way out.
We build our own prisons.
We do it because we think we have to be someone, because we are competitive, because society or family expects something from us. We do it for acceptance.
Is our life worthwhile? Is our contribution worthy of esteem or status? This inherent need to be accepted and to be acceptable to others is a strong driver indeed. However, the need can often override our innermost selves.
Who are we really?
In fact, many of us, me included, build the prison to not have to deal with that very question. I didn’t think that I would struggle with the issue of identity but I absolutely have and continue to do so.
We are not encouraged to genuinely explore who we are and what we have been called to do at an early age. We are swiftly placed into a box based upon aptitude or necessity and it is there that we start to build the walls around us.
The psychiatrist told me that they advised their client that they had no other option but to dismantle the life that they built, strip away everything and search their inner most self. That is a confronting proposition for anyone but when you have invested so much into building a career, an identity, a lifestyle, the thought of going back to basics to find oneself doesn’t feel like an option at all.
It feels unsafe.
However, it is the only option, because staying where you are is also untenable. The psychiatrist told me that I am in the same position as his client. I had to strip everything away, every preconceived idea I have had about who I am, what I do, what I want and rebuild a life based upon my inner most desires rather than my perspective of what the world requires of me. To rebuild a new life, identity and purpose which is safely and securely rooted in my values and reflective of who I am without interference from external factors.
At a young age we are more susceptible to being influenced. We take on others views as our own and shape our future based upon what others think we should be doing. We don’t necessarily have the gumption to do what makes us happy. Perhaps this is out of necessity. For instance, I completed high school during the recession we had to have in the early 1990’s. That meant that you were disinclined to enter creative industries as there was no work. You chose your higher education based upon the likelihood of job opportunities. There is nothing wrong with this, but in my case, I was funnelled into a career that was so disconnected from who I am.
As you get older you are less inclined to be influenced and this can provide a perfect opportunity for rebirth. You have learned skills and have experienced life enough to know what advice to listen to and what not to. You know yourself better and with some guidance, are motivated to make changes.
The psychiatrist picked up a bracelet and held it up to me. The bracelet was simply a piece of string with colourful baubles, a rudimentary specimen. He explained that this rather hideous and worthless bracelet was made for him by his 3 year old. Then he said, ‘This is all that is real in life, that my 3 year old made me a gift. All other things, the career, the status, the money… it’s not real.’ This simple illustration brought clarity in my perspective.
The life that we build in this ‘prison’ called society is not real. The only real things in life are our connections with our family, our friends and those with whom we interact on a daily basis. All the worldly possessions and trappings could be stripped away but if you nurture those precious relationships, you are profoundly rich.
Whether he knew it or not, this psychiatrist gave me permission to explore who I really am, to take time to curate how I wish to be in the world, how I interact with others and what legacy I leave behind wherever I go.
I am a work in progress.
How about you?