Déjà vu

enPR: (dā'-zhä-vo͞oʹ)

One of the hardest questions to answer is - What do you want to be when you grow up? As children, we quickly belt out the coolest job our tiny, beautiful minds have been exposed to. And yet, the older we grow, the less we dream. I am one of the lucky ones. I was conscious of my life's mission and purpose as a pre-teen. At the age of 12, I could never fully predict my future life, yet it was clear to me then as it remains clear now, that my purpose is to make an impact. The last thing I envisioned was that it meant saving a life.

By trade, I am a holistic mental health practitioner and have spent almost a decade in the trenches (if you know, you know). I mention my role so you understand that when it pertains to managing a crisis, I am usually the stillness in the storm. When confronting the big bad wolves of trauma survivors, I am detached and solution-focused, and my demeanor is matter-of-fact. I never thought this was possible and yet, I became somewhat of a pro at holding space, an art, and mental health practice that involves showing empathy, mercy, respect for autonomy, and belonging. Without empathy, you cannot open the door to vulnerability and building trust necessary for an effective therapeutic relationship.

The greatest loss for trauma survivors is the loss of self-concept. You begin to lose yourself as your ego, the self, is sized down to nothing. You want to get back up again yet, fear, blame, guilt, or shame creep in, washing away your last glimpse of yesterday, before the damage was done. As a trained mental health clinician, I must hold space for patients facing life-altering experiences that will shape the course of their lifespan. The job requires a well-rounded knowledge of the mind, the body, and of course the spirit. It is as important for me to know motivational interviewing and grounding techniques as it is to assess for symptoms of sedative withdrawal or Traumatic Brain Injury (TBI).

While on the job recently, I engaged with a person suffering severely from the effects of interpersonal violence (IV). After several minutes, I could tell her dysphoric demeanor had less to do with emotional pain and 99.9% related to a physical injury she recently sustained. Upon meeting her, it was neither my role to examine nor counsel her, but, I was the right person for the job. Unbeknownst to her, I had several years experience of IV training and working with people who have walked in her shoes. Moments after trying to convince her to seek urgent medical treatment for symptoms consistent with TBI, she collapsed, waxed and waned in alertness, and held on to a faint breath.

As of 2022, it was estimated that there are more female survivors of IV with TBI than men and women in the military with TBI. TBI is also documented as the leading cause of death for Americans younger than 44 [1].

If my team and I had not been present, this person would have lost consciousness on their way home, while crossing the street, or God forbid, driving a motor vehicle. While debriefing with my team after giving EMS her medical history, which I was only able to obtain after holding space, I stood up from my seat, placed my folded jean-jacket on a chair, looked up, and experienced déjà vu. The place wasn't familiar because I hadn't been there before that day and yet, this place was exactly where I needed to be.

I remember the life my inner child envisioned for the future and recall the existential dread of planning out the rest of my life for a class assignment that was 30% of my grade. As I glued down a cut out of a Mercedes G-Class, a state university logo, a gavel, and a Mid-Century Modern home on a poster board in the 8th grade, I never dreamed of being responsible for someone else's life - an experience truly humbling and divinely designed.

1. Costello, K., & Greenwald, B. D. (2022). Update on Domestic Violence and Traumatic Brain Injury: A Narrative Review. Brain sciences, 12(1), 122. https://doi.org/10.3390/brainsci12010122