PTSD Is Another Excuse to Sell Drugs
Body Dowsing (Mind Reading For the Millions) can get to the specific causes of PTSD (post traumatic stress disorder).
It’s “causes,” not a single “cause,” as today’s psychiatrists want people to believe.
20 percent of the 2,000,000 American soldiers who served in Iraq and Afghanistan are believed to have PTSD.
That’s 400,000 American troops.
Why did ZERO percent of World War I German soldiers have PTSD while it was very common among World War I American soldiers?
World War I Canadian soldiers also approached zero percent.
Christopher Bergland (“Two New PTSD Treatments Offer Hope for Veterans,” Psychology Today, Nov. 26, 2013) wrote …
“Two million Americans have served in Iraq and Afghanistan, and 20 percent of them are estimated to have PTSD. The Veterans Health Administration has been overwhelmed with PTSD patients. Now, with the help of these two new therapies thousands of veterans are in the process of getting their lives back.”
Franklin D. Jones, M.D. (“Military Psychiatry Since World War II,” American Psychiatry After World War II, 1944-1994, 2000) wrote …
“German prisoners of war exposed to shelling and bombing did not develop ‘shell shock,’ whereas their allied captors did. Soldiers exposed to thinking themselves exposed to toxic gases developed ‘shell shock’.”
PTSD was called “neurasthenia” during the American Civil War.
Some of the following names for PTSD may be out of chronological order because psychiatrists are addicted to the wholesale fabrication of labels.
PTSD was called “shell shock,” “shell concussion,” “postconcussional syndrome,” and “mild traumatic brain injury” during World War I because psychiatrists thought explosives physically damaged the brain.
Then came “trench neurosis,” “war neurosis,” and “traumatic neurosis.”
“Neurosis” names were too Freudian and Jewish for the U.S. military, so other PTSD names were forthcoming.
So PTSD was labeled “N.Y.D. (Nervous)” for “not yet diagnosed (nervous).”
Then “exhaustion” and “combat exhaustion.”
Then “combat fatigue.”
Then “effort syndrome.”
Then “battle exhaustion.”
Then “soldier’s heart” and “irritable heart.”
Then “combat stress reaction.”
Then “stress response syndrome” (according to the DSM-1 in 1952).
Dr. Edward Tick cited more than eighty names for PTSD, and he called it “loss of the soul.”
Edward Tick (“Heal the Warrior, Heal the Country,” Yes! Magazine, May 19, 2008) wrote …
“Sitting Bull and his warriors, and other bands from innumerable traditional cultures, were never plagued with self-doubt about the value of their mission, as many of our soldiers are today. In order to do battle with a whole heart, the danger and threat to one’s home must be real, and the people must experience it as immediate and about to threaten their total existence; there must be no alternative. A people and their warriors must be in unity.
“The effect of that unity shows in Nguyen Van Tam, known as Mr. Tiger, a robust, friendly, and serene man of 87 living in Viet Nam’s Mekong Delta. He is a veteran of wars against the Japanese, French, and Americans. Though at war for a quarter century, he has no disturbing symptoms. ‘We Vietnamese,’ he says, ‘do not have PTSD because we never hated Americans. We only fought to protect our families and homes from invaders.'”
David Spiegel (“War, Peace, and Posttraumatic Stress Disorder,” American Psychiatry After World War II, 1944-1994, 2000) wrote …
“Antidepressive medications have been found moderately helpful in treating the intrusive symptoms of PTSD (e.g., nightmares and flashbacks), as well as some associated depressive features, including insomnias and anxiety (probably due to sedative effects) (Kudler et al. 1989; S.D. Solomon et al. 1992). However, such medications are far less helpful in managing avoidance symptoms (Friedman 1991). Selective serotonin reuptake inhibitors especially those that are less activating (e.g., sertraline and paroxetrine), have shown promise, and have fewer side effects. Benzodiazepines, as expected, primarily reduce anxiety symptoms, with little, if any, effect on avoidance or intrusion (Braun et al. 1990; Solomon et al. 1992). This class of drugs poses the potential risk of addiction or dependence, or of complicating comorbid alcohol or other drug abuse.
“The anticonvulsant carbamazepine has been utilized because of its anti-kindling effects (Friedman 1988, 1991). Lithium has also been used to treat the affective components in PTSD; there is anecdotal evidence suggesting the utility of lithium in controlling aggression (Kitchner and Greenstein 1985). Beta-blockers (e.g., propranolol) and alpha-adrenergic agonists (e.g., clonidine) have been used with some success in open trials. These results support the idea that noradrenergic hyperactivity contributes to symptomatology in PTSD (Kolb et al. 1984; Kosten and Krystal 1988; Kosten et al. 1987), because alpha-adrenergic agonists reduce central adrenergic activity. Beta-adrenergic blockers have been used to antagonize the state of peripheral sympathetic hyperarousal associated with anxiety and some of the symptoms of PTSD.”
If you fall for this drug-glorifying, chasing-one’s tail shrink-speak, then I have some swampland in Florida to sell you.
Body Dowsing (Mind Reading For the Millions) is the actual “Royal Road to the Unconscious.”
It’s not dreaming, as Sigmund Freud and Carl Jung supposed (“The dream is a little hidden door in the innermost and most secret recesses of the psyche,” in Jung’s words).
Dreaming is subject to “doctrinal compliance” — dreaming to accommodate a specific psychiatric dogma.
“Trance states” are virtually ignored by the greater shrink community.
Body Dowsing can transmute dreaming into the “Royal Road to the Superconscious” — Divinity Returning to I Amness, according to Swami Nitty-Gritty.
Why be confined to psychiatric junk science when dreaming is an agency for clairvoyance, clairaudience, clairsentience, and claircognizance?