The second article provided a glimpse into Clint, a successful attorney who relocated from his biological home in the south. Along with his friend, Jerome, who he met in law school, he took a job in New York state. Though sad to leave his family and home, he followed a job prospect. Soon after, he met his wife, Anna, at a party. They’ve been together ever since. Quite common in therapy, Clint let loose when I asked him if anything bad happened to him to spark a halt to working. He and Anna were robbed at gunpoint by two men who threatened their lives. They came to their car after attending a movie.

I asked Clint, what followed the dramatic event? “Man, this isn’t easy. It’s weird. You know my job is to defend clients who’ve been violated one way or another. I do both civil and criminal law. I hear people tell their heartfelt story. These are people with money who can afford me. My life is so different now than in the south. I send my parents money, which they ask for hesitantly. They’re proud people, Marshall.” So, what followed, I asked again. “We drove home. I wanted to call the police but Anna said no. She didn’t explain. She wanted to go home, so I drove us home. It was Saturday night. The children were awake and busy with their things. We said nothing to them. Anna showered, said goodnight, and went to bed. I couldn’t sleep. I felt angry. The kids went to bed and I sat up watching TV. I don’t even recall what I was watching. I never made it to bed. I showered, made coffee and did my Sunday ritual of eggs and pancake breakfast before we went to church. Well, I didn’t go. I told Anna that I didn’t feel good and needed to sleep. She and the kids left. The house was quiet … eerie.”

“They came home and asked me how I was doing. I still felt sick. I hung low that day. The next day the children went to school and Anna left, too. She had to see a potential client. She’s a wedding planner. I told her that I was taking the day off. I called the office and they took care of my schedule. I’ve never done that before. Jerome called at noon when we usually go out for lunch at this soul food restaurant. I told him I was sick. He offered to come by with food. I told him no thanks. I moped around the house. I couldn’t eat and I drank coffee all day. Anna came home before the kids. I asked her to talk about what happened. She only said that she was grateful we were alive and she put the event out of her mind. Damn! I couldn’t fathom how she did that. I was obsessing and couldn’t sleep that night, too. I barely could watch TV. I had work to do and couldn’t get to it. Jerome called again. This is my best friend, Marshall. I couldn’t say anything. What’s wrong with me?”

“I told Anna that I needed some time off. I had some coming. She said all right. I called work and spoke with the top dog who said, OK, take a week. Sleep still was rough. When I did try to sleep, I awoke sweating and had terrible nightmares. Anna wanted me to talk with our minister. I said no. She backed off from pressuring me. I think she knew that I needed to do this myself. Jerome came by and saw me and said I was a mess. I wouldn’t say much to him. He said to talk to someone. I gave in and here I am, Marshall.”

Clint had signs and symptoms of acute stress reaction with little sleep, nightmares and unresolved inner conflict. I asked him to describe his feelings. “Shame man … shame. I felt helpless. I couldn’t stop those two thugs from robbing us. I am supposed to protect us. I failed, man.” Tears flowed in shame. I wondered if this traumatic event held to anything else. I asked about any early trauma. “Yes, damn it, Marshall. My brother was shot and killed by gang members. The police did nothing. My family was torn to pieces. I loved him. I couldn’t do anything about it.” Helplessness gone unchecked and unresolved can take hold of someone with big hurt.

Let there be peace on earth and let it begin with me.