By William B. Tollefson, Ph.D.

   » Order Books Online    » Order Books by Mail, Phone or Fax



    "Barb's concept of time collapsed under the weight of endless scary images. The all too familiar picture show seemed to have no beginning, no end, and no boundaries. These haunting images had invaded every aspect of her life and reduced her ability to function. The frequency of such episodes had increased twofold every year since her thirtieth birthday. She never told anyone her true perceptions or the secrets she held about her abuse, her life, or herself. Barb marveled for a second at how she'd taken care of a home, a child, and a job while hiding her pain from everyone.

    Keeping pain at bay became all-consuming. The effort to control the repetitive, intrusive episodes for so many years drained off every last drop of her energy and strength. Things eventually reached a point where she was unable to carry out any of her responsibilities. She could no longer pretend, pain had finally won.

    Denial came to the rescue. Barb's right hand unconsciously scratched at the dry skin on her left elbow, the movement allowed her to protect her chest against possible attack. She felt empty and worthless. I guess I got the type of life I deserved. Head bowed in defeat, her lonely figure remained motionless in the car. She was jerked back to consciousness by the opening of the car door.

    "It's okay; you can come in now. This is the right place," Sandy said. Barb took a deep breath and climbed out. Hypervigilance flaring, she continued to find her surroundings suspect, her walk slowed and labored. A smiling stranger held the door as she stepped through the hospital's entrance......."