in their words
with so much rage that I made myself sick. I began to experience the same posttraumatic [stress] symptoms as my patients: anger, edginess, isolation and irritability. How does your faith relate to your experiences as a psychiatrist? It relates to
everything I do and am, including my work with trauma. Now, I know to protect myself with prayer, before and after a difficult patient. I ignored faith for years but after I was healed from a terminal illness, I began to incorporate spirituality into my practice. I started using a spiritual inventory and asked patients if they wanted spirit and prayer to be part of their treatment. I’d say about 75% said “yes,” and slowly I became more comfortable praying with and for patients. When I was sick, I undertook a two-year study of evil, including natural disasters like fires and hurricanes and illnesses such as cancer, multiple sclerosis, ALS, almost all things chaotic. I came to peace with darkness, knowing that the darkness can never overcome the light. I take my comfort in this, no matter how hard things get or how horrendous the stories. You write in your book, “Praying frequently, I asked God for his blessings. ... The worse the stories got, the more I searched scripture for answers and reasons.” God seemed absent in
this drama. As my work continued, I sought another way to heal. I began writing songs and painting the children’s stories. I’ve worked for the last 20 years to shape these songs and stories into [this] book. I began to heal when I was able to admit that it was not God who abused my patients but perpetrators, many of whom had been victims of childhood trauma themselves. I realized that God wept each time. He witnessed the molestation of children and suffered with us.
Was it difficult to write some of these stories?
Writing comes very easily to me. Editing is a different story. I spent years editing the stories which practically wrote themselves. Lyrics poured out like water, filling my journal, one song followed another, as the dam burst, script overflowing. I was writing about events as far back as my student years, and as recent as the day before. Usually, I was home and wrote on the computer. If I was away from home, I wrote in a journal I carried with me everywhere. What advice would you have to practitioners and survivors interested in sharing their traumatic stories? Alcoholics
Anonymous has a saying, “You are only as sick as your secrets.” You must tell as best you remember, and you must tell someone you trust who’ll believe you. That is the first step in healing. How can we encourage people to listen to these uncomfortable stories of abuse and neglect? We must learn and listen. We have
to let our moral compass override our fears. Often, children who are abused will not have overt signs, physically or emotionally. Common signs when they are present are disruptive behavior, sexualized acting out, academic decline, withdrawal and isolating in their room, bed-wetting, nightmares and insomnia. Others include delayed or inappropriate emotional development, loss of self-confidence or self-esteem, depression, avoidance of certain situations, such as refusing to go to school, and desperately seeking affection. When someone confides in us about their personal story of abuse, how can we best support that person? Much
in the same way that you would support them in any problem they might tell you about. First
listen, then believe, and then ask the person, “How can I help you now? I believe you, and I’m so sorry this happened to you. I want to be here for you.” How can we fight child abuse today? Recently,
during a Zoom conference a teacher talked about a puppet show that was performed in her school. The children were taught about “good touches, bad touches,” who to tell, how to tell and how to say “no!” Children are usually invested in telling their story if only adults will ask, listen and believe. There are many creative ways to support children, survivors and perpetrators. Darkness to Light is an excellent resource. Do you have a favorite quote or song from your book? Without a doubt, my favorite
song is about a little girl who hides under her bedsheets: Somebody is hiding. She lies there. Body wedged tight, lidless eyes press ironed white sheets. Tiny pink lines, theses stripes severe wide white intervals. Someone is home. So she is hiding behind the curtain, invisible. Spirits hover and view the beating terror FOR MORE INFORMATION “Songs for the Forgotten: A Psychiatrist’s Record” is available at Barnes & Noble & Amazon. Dr. Burns has a website, juliaburns.org, and can be contacted at doctorjuliawb@gmail.com. *If you suspect a child is being abused or neglected, you should contact your local Child Protective Services (in Durham: 919-560-8424) or 911 for emergency response.
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