The steps are not necessarily as separate and distinct as they appear when written, but all are necessary to finish with your pain in the past and put away the symptoms. In real life, the steps will occur concurrently or blend into each other, and successful resolution of a trauma may occur in one session (as in Dave’s case) or even by doing homework between sessions.
With that introduction, here are the five steps:
Remember: Tell the tale in detail.
Feel: No feel, no heal.
Express: Let the water flow.
Release: Release for peace.
Reframe: Reclaim your present life.
In my experiences, the steps of The Fritz work consistently, not occasionally, for trauma survivors who are brave enough to face their unfinished past pain. Later, I’ll devote five chapters to explaining each of the five steps in depth. For now, though, keep these steps in mind as you read the stories of people who overcame their trauma to live great lives—and stories of those who did not.
The following story reveals the archenemy of the Fritz. While Batman has the Joker, and Luke Skywalker has Darth Vader, the Fritz has Mr. Avoidance.
Face the Past and Mr. Avoidance
The best way I can explain Mr. Avoidance is by telling the story of Orlando, a seventy-five-year-old man referred to me by his wife because of his fitful sleep pattern and terrible nightmares related to his time in military service. She had always been puzzled by Orlando’s nocturnal suffering. He had been in the Navy but never saw combat. What could have happened to her husband?
Orlando was a proud man—he was a longstanding local legend in the twelve-step community, with over forty years of sobriety and a reputation for being a thorough but helpful sponsor. Despite his success in staying clean and sober and helping others to do the same, Orlando was miserable, and he was carrying a secret over fifty years old, dating back to his tenure in the Navy. He claimed that there was a story that he had never told anyone that had haunted him for years. Besides the sleep disturbance, he suffered from symptoms of depression and anxiety, in addition to a deep and pervasive shame of which evidently no one in the twelve-step community was aware. His prideful leadership was belied by the fact that he was still—fifty years down the road—a deeply wounded and conflicted man.
Orlando began telling me his story in the second session. It was why he was in treatment in the first place, to share his story and escape the weight of shame that was diminishing his life.
He told me that he was on a Navy ship when he was ordered below deck into the cramped private quarters of two of his superiors. He began to describe how the men ordered him as a young seaman to disrobe and prepare for what sounded like the beginning of an anal rape. Orlando paused for a moment and looked down at the floor, and when he finally looked up, he stood up and said, “I cannot do this. I’m sorry, I will not be back.”
Orlando never returned to my office. I have questioned what went wrong; did I ask, “what happened” prematurely? I don’t think so, but it’s possible that I could have better prepared him for the feelings that he would experience when he told his story. The real blame, though, falls on the culprit that keeps so many trauma suffers silent—avoiding the horrible feelings that comprise the trauma. This avoidance keeps people like Orlando stuck in their pain in the past. Fortunately, Orlando is an exception, not the rule. The vast majority of clients I’ve worked with improved or were completely cured by their participation in treatment and their use of the Fritz. Orlando’s story, though, serves as a cautionary tale about the dangers of how avoidance may prevent successful treatment.
Collateral Damage
While trauma contributes to depression, anxiety disorders, PTSD, dissociative disorders, and substance abuse, unresolved pain in the past can also contribute to a host of other symptoms and issues that can linger. For instance, trauma survivors often perceive the world as an unsafe place, feel isolated, withdraw emotionally from intimate relationships, can’t trust others, tend to choose abusive relationships (to replicate the familiarity of an abusive childhood), and sabotage life’s opportunities.
These symptoms don’t automatically disappear after the original trauma has been successfully remembered, felt, expressed, and released. As the following story demonstrates, these symptoms can persist even after the original trauma has been faced and worked through.
Eighteen-year-old Kendra was in trouble for shoplifting—not what would be considered clinical grounds for a trauma diagnosis. Her dad, Tom, overheard her telling her long-distance boyfriend, “I don’t know why these things keep happening to me—first I get molested by the babysitter, and now I’m arrested for shoplifting!” Imagine her dad’s reaction when he overheard this conversation from the next room. Tom had never had an inkling that Kendra had been molested, and he didn’t know what to do with the information.
He and his wife made an appointment to see me, but without Kendra. They arrived distraught and at a loss as to what to do. They explained that they had only used a babysitter once, and it was Tom’s former best friend, Jim. Could that single occasion have been what Kendra was describing? And if so, what could they do about it now? I suggested that they return with Kendra and then tell her the truth about the overheard conversation, followed by the question, “Who was it that hurt you?”
They were shocked when Kendra confirmed that the culprit was indeed her dad’s ex-best friend, during his one and only babysitting opportunity. Then I learned how much damage that one evening had done, including terrible shame, loss of innocence, and rebellion against everyone and everything (and yes, that’s how a well-to-do girl who wants for nothing can find it permissible to shoplift).
There was even more damage that the entire family had sustained without ever realizing that it was caused by the abuse. According to Kendra, who was only nine at the time of the abuse, that was the day when she stopped trusting her parents—especially her dad—to protect her. It was dad’s fault that Jim had touched her and then told her to tell no one. In her mind, dad had set her up for the abuse; and from her fourth-grade perspective, he was responsible for condoning, if not causing it. It was, after all, his best friend.
Further, that was also the day that Kendra had stopped being “daddy’s little girl.” That was the last time she had ever sat on his lap watching movies and eating popcorn, read aloud to him, or sought his advice on anything. He was not to be trusted for anything ever again.
So why hadn’t her parents noticed the changes? Tom said he had noticed, and so had her mother, but ironically, they’d attributed her changes to growing up and needing less cuddles, less connections, less guidance—less dad. Sure, Tom missed her, but if she was growing up, he could accept her changes as a normal part of the growth process. After all, she was the first and only child, so what did he know about normal adolescent female development?
I suggested that Kendra work briefly with me to dispel the horror of the molestation. I used a technique called “Guided Imagery” that is used to complete the unfinished trauma and remove its hold over the survivor. I then asked Kendra how she felt. “Vanquished!” was her one-word reply (after all, she went to a school for the gifted).
But regardless of the success of the imagery, the damage to Kendra’s relationship with her parents, especially her dad, was not magically repaired. She could release the horrors of the molestation, but that did not mean that all was automatically better with her parents. For that to happen, Kendra needed to hear their apologies, believe their innocence, and choose to trust them again.
Repairing a relationship can be a process, so Kendra gradually made the effort to be with her parents and talk, really talk, for the first time in nine years. During college, she took opportunities to return home and watch movies with her parents. She didn’t sit on daddy’s lap, but she was back to eating his popcorn and sitting between them.
Her symptoms waned and gradually disappeared. I’ve related Kendra’s story because