Post Traumatic Growth, a different perspective
Post-Traumatic Growth. A phrase that sounds both familiar, yet unfamiliar.
Perhaps because of the increased recognition surrounding the condition ‘Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder’. Over the decades, much-needed awareness surrounding PTSD has grown, unlike PTG. In fact, the term ‘Post-Traumatic Growth’ wasn’t coined until 1995 by grief researchers and sociologists; Richard G. Tedeschi and Lawrence G. Calhoun. The clue may be in the name, but essentially PTG is the transformative positive growth that can occur within a person despite experiencing trauma(s). Currently, there is limited research on Post-Traumatic Growth, particularly within the realm of grief-based trauma. However, what is known is that there appears to be 5 themes that individuals who identify to have PTG, report on experiencing:
Openness to new opportunities
Appreciation for relationships
Increase in gratitude
Change in spiritual or religious beliefs
Feelings of strength
(Tedeschi & Calhoun, 1996)
Individuals may experience none, one, multiple or all elements of the 5 themes. But what is comforting to know, is the concept itself suggests there is hope after losing a parent, and that your life can and will continue to grow - something David and Libby found they had in common.
David: Embracing new opportunities and an increased emotional resilience, both personally and professionally, was always a significant topic for me when talking about my grief and keeping a positive mindset after losing my father to medical negligence, very suddenly, just after my 19th birthday.
David: My perception and expectations of grief, based on what society had taught me almost attuned me to believe that I must hide under a rock and grieve eternally (which I did do; everyone does this and it is perfectly normal) but this was not forever lasting. I quickly found healing in pushing myself and my limits forward, across multiple areas of life. I wanted to have a half-full attitude, no matter how hard it was to get myself there. I would certainly like to add that my friends and family helped a great deal with the motivation, with talking and asking questions often. After considering how to move forward, I surprisingly found this innate motivation around the idea of making my dad proud. On the other hand, I felt bad, I felt guilty for not being upset all the time and for perhaps being on a different page to peers and family members who had experienced similar tragedies. Was this normal? To feel OK-ish? To want to get out of this grief pool and move forward?
Libby: My story started when my dad, Nick, was diagnosed with Multiple Sclerosis in 2004. Unfortunately, he had already entered the stage of MS known as ‘Secondary Progressive’, leading to his rapid deterioration. Within 6 years of his diagnosis, he had stopped driving, shut down his graphic design business and after a severe attack, was left needing 24-hour care. In 2010 my dad moved into a care home and 2 years later in 2012 he passed away, aged 49.
Looking back, conscious, or not, a huge comfort for me was my friends. Not because we would necessarily talk in depth about everything, as I was 14 when he passed away, but because of the escapism they unknowingly provided me with. A snippet of normality and a few hours of respite through distractions. Despite all the difficulties and uncertainty during those years, I look back at secondary school incredibly fondly, mainly due to my relationships. As the years have gone on through college and university, those friendships have continued to deepen and grow. So much so, that I truly see them as an extension of my family. As with any relationship - it takes communication, understanding and the ability to apologise when necessary. But it was the willingness to nourish those relationships around me that I believe was a direct result of losing my dad. I hold those close to me in a way I’m not sure I would if I didn’t have my experiences, and that’s something I consider to be a blessing.
David: When I first discovered the concept of Post-Traumatic Growth, I really felt it. Meeting Libby through It’s Time and reading her dissertation on PTG cemented this. PTG finally gave me an answer to the guilt I had felt for “getting on with my life” and “pushing forward”. We all know it is never easy to continue life after such a loss, I have met dark places and felt very dark times, but (cliché) these only made me stronger. There wasn’t anything I couldn’t do or try, it was just down to how I wanted to view my situation. My mind became motivated to do more with my life because ultimately, I had already faced my darkest days. What was the worst that could happen? I adopted a bit of a “try me” attitude.
Yes, that attitude was sometimes met with conflict, but life is about learning and adapting to situations. I learned to control my emotions, perspective and ego and subsequently became far more caring and empathetic – also traits I relate to PTG. Then focusing on my career, using my pain to motivate me professionally and finding energy in advancing myself. I am aware that many people find similar change in spiritual or religious ways also. This growth grew my confidence and slowly many historic fears faded away. I took risks with new jobs, new challenges, relationships and recently starting a business, joining a charity, and expecting our first child. 19-year-old me would never have imagined where I might be.
Libby: Another element of Post-Traumatic Growth that I’ve found to be an ongoing evolution has been my religious and spiritual beliefs, something David has just touched upon. My dad’s faith was a huge part of him and was something that was a cornerstone of my childhood and growing up. However, the more ill he became, the more confused I grew. Navigating my dad’s illness and death alongside his strong Catholic faith, resulted in me rejecting the faith I had grown up with. For some, it is during these times that their faith is strengthened, for me it was something I could no longer connect to. However, as time has gone on I find myself in a position where I am comfortable in the unknown of not having a specific religious faith, whilst simultaneously remaining open to my beliefs changing with me. I’ve found a happy-medium of appreciation for my dad’s faith and knowledge that my own journey is my right to have, however that may look. Whether it could be described as spiritual or not, I’m unsure, but what I do have is a sense of calmness in knowing life is short and unpredictable. Whilst this might understandably seem like a contradicting statement (!), it makes sense to me and that’s all that matters.
David: Now 28 years of age I see things differently; “hindsight is a wonderful thing” they say. I am still young but looking back on the last 8 years and how fast time has passed. I now practice more gratitude and embrace the now. It is super important, as Libby says - life is short and fragile. I can see the man I have become, the situations that constructed me and changed me. I look back and feel grateful for the journey I have had and proud of how far I have come - and funnily enough that just makes me want more.
I am a believer that as humans we can harness the pain from tragic situations to create positive growth for ourselves. Through careers, relationships, friendships, socially - we all have the strength to make the best for ourselves.
Libby: Just as grief looks different for everyone, so does growth. However it looks for you, know it’s yours to experience.
We both certainly do not disregard the bad days; we still have them; they are inevitable, and they happen. We also appreciate that these concepts of “PTG ” didn’t appear overnight, it took time to learn and grow. The pain of losing our fathers will never go away, but how we use that pain to learn, move-forward and grow, is truly up to us.
