PTSD: ‘I don’t want anyone to suffer in silence’
Shane Flannigan tells his story to anyone who will listen to get people talking about post traumatic stress disorder
Late one night, he came home from work and made a sandwich in his kitchen.
The house was quiet. His wife and children were sound asleep.
From somewhere behind him, someone called his name.
“Shane.”
“Shane.”
“It was so clear,” says 50-year-old Shane Flannigan.
Flannigan, a husky, bald headed guy with a goatee and tattoos, had just pulled a night shift as a private security guard. The voice startled even him.
“I turned around,” he says, “And no one was there.”
He walked through the house, checking bedrooms. Everyone was sleeping.
Eventually, he dismissed it as an imagination manipulated by stress and fatigue.
Then one night, he was driving and saw someone standing in the middle of the road.
Right there in front of him, a distinct silhouetted figure. He barely had enough time to register that it was a person and brake hard.
He reacted too late and ran over the person.
“I jumped out of the car and checked,” he said. “No one was there.”
It happened a couple more times. Auditory and visual hallucinations so real, they fooled even a rational unflappable guy like Flannigan.
And then there was the rage. Extreme, sudden anger over nothing. He couldn’t find his razor one morning because his wife had moved it into the bathroom cupboard. “Why did you move it!” he screamed.
Another time, he stepped on a toy left on the floor by one of his kids and broke it into pieces with his bare hands.
He dismissed his feelings. “I let it grow,” he says.
His wife couldn’t take it anymore and left him, until he eventually got help.
He saw a specialist and was diagnosed with post traumatic stress disorder, PTSD, a mental illness that, according to the Canadian Mental Health Association, involves exposure to trauma involving death, the threat of death or serious injury.
A year earlier, in 2003, Flannigan had been in a violent fight with a man he was trying to arrest. He feared for his safety and the situation escalated to the point of using his baton and ordering his guard dog to subdue the man. When even that didn’t work, Flannigan called for police back up.
In the end, it was Flannigan who was charged and after several court appearances he was found guilty of assault with a weapon. He lost his career, his reputation and his life work.
In addition to PTSD, he was also diagnosed with generalized anxiety disorder and social anxiety disorder, all related to the night of the fight.
According to the Canadian Mental Health Association, trauma that causes PTSD is often unexpected and people feel powerless to stop it. It can be triggered by a crime, natural disaster, accident, war or other threats to life. It might be a situation that happens to you, or others, including loved ones.
It causes symptoms — vivid nightmares, flashbacks, and thoughts about the event that come out of nowhere — that involve re-experiencing the traumatic event.
PTSD can make people feel very nervous or on edge all the time. They might have trouble concentrating, feel irritable or have sleeping problems. Some people feel numb and detached.
People equate PTSD with soldiers and war, says Julie Christiansen, a registered psychotherapist in Thorold. “But no one thinks about prolonged stress,” she says.
Indeed, a toxic work environment, a child who is bullied at school who feels trapped in the situation, are examples of circumstances that could lead to PTSD in some people, she says.
Often people don’t believe they suffer from post traumatic stress. “When I ask, ‘Do you know why you’re here?’ they answer, ‘They tell me I have PTSD’.”
People think if they can just forget about it, the feelings will go away. “But unresolved trauma has nowhere to go,” she says.
“It eats away at you physically and psychologically.”
Instead of the brain being reassured that the trauma is in the past and the present is safe, “it keeps looking for proof that it’s still in danger.
“The person looks at the world through the lens of trauma.”
A few years ago, Flannigan was a participant in a course she was offering to therapists and mental health workers. While he was not a professional, she decided to let him attend because she had known him when he worked security.
She stayed in contact, and when she was teaching a forensic psychology course at George Brown college, she invited him to talk firsthand about PTSD.
It offered her students a real-life example of the effects of trauma.
“It gives them more empathy and a greater understanding of how easily trauma can impact the brain,” she says.
“They will see the humanity behind the story.”
Flannigan is hoping to share his story with high school and university students, mental health professionals and first responders to educate and encourage conversations about PTSD. He has been featured in a series on radio station 610 CKTB.
In the beginning, Flannigan was plagued with panic attacks, paranoia and hallucinations. His emotions were on-the-surface intense. Sometimes, he cried endlessly for no known reason. He spent months in therapy.
“It wraps itself around anything it wants indiscriminately,” says Flannigan.
He thought he was cured and then it hit him again. Out of the blue.
Once, he was driving close to home when he saw a group of construction workers gathered around a manhole, trying to lift it. Immediately, his chest tightened, he felt his heart pound, he gasped short, shallow breaths and his entire body broke out in sweat. He had one consuming thought: “I have to get home.”
He drove to his house, locked his doors and took some medicine.
He has no idea why a manhole triggered a panic attack.
“I wake up every day, not knowing how the day will go and that in itself is very daunting,” he says.
His psychiatrist suggested another treatment — a service dog named Jazz.
The eight-month-old golden lab is still training but he already seems tuned in to Flannigan’s symptoms of anxiety. The dog will lie on his lap or chest, and the pressure and warmth are both calming and distracting. When they’re in crowds, he will walk around Flannigan to create a physical barrier.
He describes life with PTSD as a traffic light. Rarely are there easy ‘green’ days; most are amber, a manageable, “state of awareness and paranoia.” There are still a few ‘red’ days that catch him by surprise.
Like the day before he shared the story of his journey, for this article. He was hit with a heavy, debilitating sadness and bouts of uncontrollable crying. He’s not sure if it was triggered by the thought of talking about his story — likely not because he enjoys speaking to groups — or hearing news reports of three OPP officers who died by suicide.
He spent most of the day lying on a sofa, but with medication and visits from Jazz, he was able to call a friend. They went out for coffee. “It can be a monster. It grabs you in ways you never think,” he says.
By the morning, he was able to share his story, sitting on a bench at Charles Daley Park, with Jazz by his side.
He is passionate about talking to more people. Anyone who will listen.
In his words: “I don’t want anyone to suffer in silence.”
For more information on Shane and his public talks about his journey with PTSD visit http://shadesofbroken.com/
Listen to Shane on the radio. http://shadesofbroken.com/media/
Canadian Mental Health Association. For information on post traumatic stress disorder visit https://cmha.ca/documents/
post-traumatic-stress-disorderptsd
But unresolved trauma has nowhere to go. It eats away at you physically and psychologically.” JULIE CHRISTIANSEN REGISTERED PSYCHOTHERAPIST