I witnessed a suicide | Joseph Keogh | TEDxPSUBehrend

So it's June 15th, 2016,
a warm summer day.

I had just graduated high school

and I'm riding the euphoria of all that
comes along with going away to college.

Now, most stories start off with today
was not a normal day but not mine.

Today was anything from normal,
from sunup to sundown.

I cancel plans with my friends.

I decide to not go to my
favorite museum with my family.

And I wash my car by hand.

All of these actions are really
out of the norm for me.

For whatever reason,
I was home all day.

And just after drawing off my car,

I was in my room,
not really doing much.

And my little sister Allison comes in.

She asks, "Can we go pick up Maddie
from Jason's house?"

I say yes without really
giving a second thought,

and within a couple minutes

we're driving.

A little backstory on Maddie and Jason.

Jason is a junior, goes to my high school,

and he's dating Maddie,

a freshman who's friends with my sister.

Now my sister likes to throw parties
like any other teenager does.

So I've gotten to know Jason a little bit.

And what I've learned
from watching him is

that he is the center of his social group.

He is the one that everyone

looks to, to see what they should be doing,

and if they like it or not.

Now I've also noticed

that he can get angry sometimes
and has a hot temper.

When my sister first asked
if we could go pick up Maddie,

I said yes pretty quickly.

And this was for a couple of reasons.

The first was that it's kind of weird for me

to pick up a friend from a boyfriend's house.

Usually, I just chauffer for my sister
from house to house.

The second was that I had heard
in school about Maddie and Jason

having some relationship problems,

and that kind of set an alarm bell off.

The third was that my sister
wears her arm on her sleeve,

so it's really easy to tell

that she was anxious
about the situation also.

So we arrived at Jason's house

and I parked my black sedan
on the right side of the street,

opposite from his house.

I opened the car door
and I stepped out

into the warm cloudy
afternoon Virginia air.

And I noticed that Maddie's
sitting on the porch,

which is out of place.

Normally my sister's friends

just wait inside for a text
or knock at the door.

But Maddie walks across the yard.

I open the car door
behind mine and she gets in.

I shut up behind her.

Now at this point, I have to admit

that I'm really relieved
that Jason is nowhere to be seen

and that there had been
no incident or altercation.

So I head back in the car,
buckle my seatbelt, close the door

and start a three-point
turn to head home.

The first turn was the left
in Jason's driveway.

I put the car in reverse to back out

and I look up at the house
and noticed a figure in the doorway

that wasn't there before.

I recognized him instantly

from his red, white
and blue American flag tank top.

It's Jason, and he's holding
a broom in his hand,

it looks like,

but as I take a closer look,

my heart begins to thump into my chest

as they recognized the metal
in wood as a shotgun.

I begin to think about
what's about to happen.

My first thought is that Jason

is just trying to show
that he's more manly than I am.

I can't hurt him.
And the second but scarier

is that he's going to come out
and show his anger through the firearm.

And that's what I act on.

I put the car in reverse
and I back out of the driveway.

I stop and I'm about to head home
and I put the gear shifter

and drive, and then park.

Chunk �� chunk �� chunk ��
drive for getting away safely

and park for getting out and trying
to talk some sense into Jason.

I choose to drive,

slowly lift my foot off the brake

and feel the car start
to push into my back.

I take one last look at the house
to make sure everything's still okay

and I don't see Jason anymore.

But I see red, white and blue
at about waist level

and notice that Jason's bent over like this.

As I scan my eyes down, pop.

I see what looks like a pink mist
covering the door

that Jason was standing behind.

I'm trying to wrap my brain
about what just happened

and I forced myself
to come to the conclusion

that what I was seeing

was Jason's brain matter
splattered on the door

and the skylight above.

I hear a faint Joey something
just happened from the backseat

and I realized that I
know something the girls don't:

Jason just shot himself.

My first thought is to get the girls away.

I put the car in drive
and begin to speed away

across one intersection
and maybe even two.

I hear rustling from the backseat
and next to me the girls

are starting to panic.

There's rustling in seats,
slamming on windows,

so I locked the car to keep them in.

I grab the phone and dial 911.

The operator picks up
and I have to utter the words:

"I've just witnessed a suicide"

and chaos immediately
erupts inside the sedan.

As I'm trying to relay
the information to the operator,

like the address, my name,
and for some reason my birthday.

I get a faint look from my sister
with tears in her eyes

and asks if Jason is going to be okay.

In order to keep myself together
I have to look away.

I pull the car over and get out
because I cannot keep myself together

inside with those two girls.

I know that I have to stay,

at least, calm and collected
to keep them there

and away from that door.

I finish relaying the information
to the operator and they say,

"Hang on, the police will be there soon."

And then click.
The phone line goes dead.

And the operator hung up.
And I'm all alone.

I stand outside in the familiar
neighborhood of Vista woods

knowing that I am the only one
that knows what just happened.

The whole world is oblivious.

A car drives behind me.

Someone is mowing their lawn
off to my right,

and I hear little kids playing to my left.

Everything is normal

as far as the rest
of the world is concerned.

But I am stuck in a different universe
than the rest of the world.

In a movie when something
like this happens,

the screen goes dark

and ominous music comes from underneath.

But it's not like that.

I was scared

and I couldn't do anything about it.

Now I tell you that story

because today I want to tell you
what it means to experience trauma.

Sorry. So there's no real book
on parenting as all parents know.

There's no textbook you can turn to,
to know what to do next.

And even if there was
a textbook on parenting,

I seriously doubt
that any of the chapter titles

would have been "What to do
when your child misses a shotgun suicide?"

So my parents did the best thing
they could think of

and took my sister and me
to a talk therapist in town

the very next day.

And we set up more sessions
for that summer,

and throughout that summer

we told her what happened
and our feelings and stuff like that.

And it definitely helped
but it didn't help where I needed it,

which was in my psyche
if that makes any sense.

I'm really into knowing
where people are coming from

in their thoughts, actions, and words.

And I subject myself
to the same analysis.

And over the summer,

I was doing these intrusive thoughts

and what I was coming up with
was I was milking it.

I was fine and didn't need
any extra attention.

And I think a lot of people go through that.

I thought to myself:

"This event is in the past Joey;
just move on and get over it."

So I start school here
at Behrend in the fall

and on the surface everything's great.

But there were these little things

that were happening that showed me
that everything was not great.

For instance,

I would be in my dorm room
or in a classroom,

I don't hear kids down the hall laughing

and instantly I would think
that they were crying.

It's really amazing

how much hysterical laughter
and hysterical crying

sound the same.

I would blank out into this thousand-yard

stare replaying the event in my head
and would be scared

over something moving
or someone touching my shoulder.

And finally, I would cry myself
to sleep at night,

not a sad or angry cry,

just there staring at the wall
with tears rolling down my face.

So I'm a bit of a nerd

and I started researching
what was happening to me.

And I learned that your brain

talks through the exchanging
of charged particles

through neural pathways.

And when these pathways get used more,

it's easier for your brain to follow.

Now most people have heard of
"fight or flight" and what this is,

is it's an instinct that happens
when your body feels in danger.

Your amygdala which is the oldest part
of your brain takes control

and tells the rest of your brain
what to do and your body.

Now if there's a tiger in front of you,

you're really not going to benefit
that much from thinking:

what am I going to do next?

Oh, what's the tiger going to do next?

It's a lot more beneficial
for your longevity

if you fight the tiger
or run away really fast.

And that's what the amygdala triggers.

Now my brain thought

that the right way to act
in a sad or scary situation

was to do what my amygdala
set on June 15th,

which makes sense.

It was just trying to protect me.

But what it was actually resulting in

was a torrent of emotions
that I had never felt before.

Now despite all this,
I was just telling myself:

"Joey, you're just a freshman.

You're just anxious about this semester

starting to ramp up,
and you're homesick."

Now you know that part in a movie
where things start to really get bad,

this is that part.

And the part where they really
started to not get okay

were my dreams.

I was struggling to sleep
without nightmares

and eventually started sleepwalking.

And one night I started sleepwalking,
left my dorm room, left my building,

and ended up eight miles
away from campus,

in rainbow flip-flops.

I was eventually found by the police,

disoriented and confused.

And their first thought was:

"Dang, this college freshman
definitely cannot handle his booze."

So he took me to the hospital
and called my parents

and eventually, everyone realized
that I wasn't drunk or on drugs

but I was having a PTSD
(posttraumatic stress disorder) breakdown.

Now this sleepwalking incident
was a wake-up call

for me and my parents that I needed help,

and that I wasn't okay.

And since my dad is a retired marine,

we're well connected
with the military community.

And we're pointed
in the direction of EMDR

which stands for eye movement
desensitization and reprocessing.

And it's a way to help
our brains deal with trauma.

So I took a three-week leave of absence
from school to go home to Virginia

and start EMDR therapy.

The first session
was about an hour and a half

and the therapist went over
all the science of everything,

which again I was into.

She told me that EMDR
is based on the research of REM sleep

which is rapid eye movement sleep.

And what happens during REM sleep
or what's theorized at least

is your eyes are moving
back and forth rapidly and randomly

and you're filing away
all the information from the day.

So if you had a stressful day at work,

your dreams might have
some relation to that.

Now REM sleep is almost

like the visualization
of what's happening

and those come out as dreams.

What was happening when I was dreaming

was I was seeing June 15th
in a different light.

Now your brain during REM sleep

is moving everything

from your short-term to your long-term.

And it kind of reads what it is, labels it
and then sends away for filing.

And it doesn't always come across
exactly in your dreams.

What was happening in my dreams

was I was replaying the event
over and over and over again

because my brain couldn't file it.

It just kept trying to refile and refile.

But it just wasn't able to.

Now the way a typical EMDR session
would go is the therapist

would hold their fingers
about six to 12 inches away

from my face and swipe
from my left peripheral

to my right peripheral,

back and forth.

And they call this bilateral stimulation,

because it stimulates
both hemispheres of your brain.

She would tell me to put myself
back into June 15th,

back into the sedan

and let her know what I was feeling
and what was happening.

And when I came to a part

where I was upset or didn't really
understand what was happening or angry,

she would input a sentence or two,
and then we would swipe on that.

And now I kind of cement
that thinking into my head.

Now there were two really big problems
that I was having with June 15th.

The first was that I felt responsible
for what the girls had seen.

Now if you remember I turned left,

but there's a way to get home straight.

And I thought that because I
turned left that that was the reason

the girls saw what happened

that I was the reason they saw it.

If I would have gone straight
they would be fine.

The second was that I felt like
I could have helped Jason.

I don't know what I could have done

but I just wish I would have done
something better for him.

What EMDR helped me do was realize
that I could have done nothing better

and that situation went the way
it was going to happen.

Now with traditional talk therapy,
you can say oh I'm fine;

it wasn't my fault; I'm okay.

But you can lie; you can lie to the therapist
and you can lie to yourself.

What EMDR does is it really

forces you to believe
what you're saying and thinking.

Now one way to show this is
when I've been researching EMDR,

I found that people
would start crying out of nowhere
during the swiping.

And I thought, no, no,
that doesn't happen to me.

It happens to me.

We would be sitting there
swiping back and forth

and I would just start
crying uncontrollably.

It was like someone
had taken a champagne bottle

and pop the cork

and all of that was coming out was everything
that I had bottled away on June 15th.

And now it was finally escaping.

Luckily, I only needed two EMDR sessions.

Part of this is due to the fact
of the neural pathways

that I mentioned earlier

and how when one gets used more it
gets easier to follow.

Now in my brain, the trauma only
had time to set up a walking path

through the woods
that my brain could follow.

But in other trauma victims,

like someone who's been to war
or someone who's in an abusive relationship,

they might have a highway that's been formed.

For me all we had to do
is take a rake and brush the leaves back over

and my brain would forget it was there.

But for someone else, you may need
to take a jackhammer to it

and plant trees and wait for them
to grow and that takes time.

Now, a little statistic on EMDR to show
that I'm not just like a poster child.

After on average
of six 50-minute sessions,

100% of single trauma victims

and 77% of multi-trauma victims

had zero signs of PTSD after.

Now EMDR is just one of the ways
that we're learning about trauma

and the way our brains process it.

And who knows what science
is going to bring us

in five, ten or 20 years.

What I do know is

that before this event happened to me

I thought that trauma was just
something you need to get over,

just accept it and move on.

But what I realize now is

that we have to help ourselves
if we truly want to get past something.

For months I was wanting to know
why this happen?

Why did Jason take his life?

Why those two girls?

And what I've learned is
that some events in life

just feel like a crappy movie,

one where the last scene ends
with more questions than answers.

And do we want those answers?

But we can find peace

even though we know we will
never get those answers.

I hope that you think about trauma
differently than you did before

and have a better understanding

about how your brain process
the world around you.

And just remember that sometimes
it needs a little help.

Thank you.

(Applause)