The Joy Pyramid: A Journey From Trauma to Triumph

By Dr. Larry Katz

March 1, 2018 was the day that changed everything. An administrative error sends Veteran Organization Psychologist Dr. Larry Katz on a week-long beach trip with his family, while the department scrambles to sort out his mistaken termination. Surprising himself and others with his calm, hope-filled reaction to this potentially tragic blow to his career, he sets out to answer the question, "How do we create joy in our lives, even in the midst of troubles and trauma?" Through interactions with others who accompany him on his journey, he explores how a well-accepted, pyramid-shaped, psychological model of happiness can be applied toward his patients' healing from combat post-traumatic stress disorder and the struggles we all face. What emerges is a practical, five-step approach to lasting happiness as the antidote to the anxiety and depression that plague so many of us today. Dr. Katz' groundbreaking model of healing and growth is uniquely presented from both psychological and spiritual perspectives while integrating mind, body, and spirit into the equation.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Covenant Books, Inc.
• Release date: Oct 12, 2020
• ISBN: 9781646709083

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The Joy Pyramid

A Journey From Trauma to Triumph

Dr. Larry Katz

Copyright © 2020 Dr. Larry Katz

All rights reserved

First Edition

All characters, names, and events in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance or similarity to actual events, entities, or persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods without the prior written permission of the publisher. For permission requests, solicit the publisher via the address below.

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www.covenantbooks.com

Table of Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 1

Trauma and Termination

Life was going well for me in the Spring of 2018. Life was always going well, in my mind. Even when things didn’t go the way I wanted them to go, I somehow figured they went the way they should be going, and so all was well. And very often when my path would be blocked, an even better journey awaited me with more glorious rewards than I ever could have imagined for myself. I have always been a very positive person. To me, it’s not that the glass is half full or half empty. I’m thrilled that there is anything in the glass at all.

That’s probably why I was able to stay so calm at 1:05 p.m. on March 1, when a guy in a grey suit sat on the other side of my office desk and handed me a neatly-typed form while demanding my ID card and keys. Termination of Appointment.

Treating Trauma

The day had started like any other Thursday. I was the first to get to the Veteran Organization Mental Health Clinic, turned off the security alarm, made my way through the dark hallways, flipping on the lights along the way until I came to my office. I booted up my computer and poured my coffee from my thermos. Then I selected a handout to use with my therapy groups that day and told the printer down the hall to make me sixty copies of Taking Control of Your PTSD. When I heard the printer come to life in the distance, I checked my e-mails, and there was the message that an administrator would be visiting me today from Tuskegee. I mumbled to myself, Sure, another new guy wants to come and shake my hand and make all kinds of promises about what great things he’ll do for the agency and then he’ll be gone in a month. But then I saw the words at the bottom of the email, "You may have your union representative present for this meeting."

I’d been working as a psychologist for a Veteran Organization for the past nine years, the only psychologist in a busy community-based outpatient mental health clinic in lower Alabama. I had come to the Veteran Organization as a veteran myself after serving as a captain for the army and then working several years as a research psychologist at Fort Rucker. So this was the job that it seemed my life choices had steered me into, and it had been a position I had planned to stay in well past retirement age. I cherished my interactions with my fellow veterans and the opportunity to help them work through their anxiety and depression.

As my patients filtered into my group room for the 9:00 a.m. PTSD session that morning, my mind was racing. What could I have done or said that could have gotten me in trouble? I can’t think of any patients I ticked off lately, and I barely have time to say hi to my coworkers in the hallway, so I couldn’t have offended any of them. Why would I need my union representative present? This makes no sense. This is…"

This is bull! The Vietnam veteran in the far corner was waving a handout. "Sorry, Dr. Katz, no disrespect. But, come on! This thing says I need to face my fears and stop avoiding. Stop avoiding! The only way I get through the day is by avoiding."

That’s right! a Desert Storm veteran with tattooed arms and a ponytail chimed in. If I had to ‘face my fears’ I’d be dead or in prison right now.

My patients that morning were repeating a common theme, a paradox that I had struggled with in my time at the Veteran Organization. On the one hand, research over the past twenty years indicated that many people who have experienced trauma such as military combat and go on to develop post-traumatic stress disorder might be prolonging the PTSD to some extent by their own avoidance of trauma-related memories and their triggers. If this is true, then counteracting this tendency to avoid should decrease these symptoms, and studies have shown that this does work for a significant number of combat veterans. Helping the patient think through their trauma memories instead of pushing them away can decrease the emotional power these memories carry. Getting out and doing things in the world rather than isolating at home could help them overcome their fears and battle depression and loneliness. On the other hand, very few of my patients are interested in participating in these exposure-based therapies, preferring to work around their trauma issues as much as possible rather than to work through them, which is too painful for them, at least for now. They want to move forward in life and leave the past behind. In fact, what they tend to find most helpful is when we talk about their here-and-now struggles and how they can take control of their emotions to improve their future.

In short, they just want to be happy again.

Termination

But none of that would matter if I somehow lost this job. And now, here I was at age fifty-four and the sole provider for my household with a wife and two teenaged daughters at home, being handed a piece of paper with the title, Termination of Appointment in bold letters across the top.

It’s my daughter’s birthday, I said to the man in the suit sitting across from me. He didn’t care. He was the messenger whose job was to deliver the papers and then drive the two hours back north to his home in Tuskegee. He reluctantly filled me in on what had led to this unfortunate visit.

It seems that somewhere in the country, a Veteran Organization physician had screwed up and had been found to have something lacking with his licensure. This had triggered a directive to check all providers’ certifications and to immediately terminate anyone who had any problems with their professional license. A new human resource employee had found my name flagged by a national database and immediately sent this man to lower the axe. What was not noticed by this impulsive HR person is that the issue with my license was not a problem. Twenty years earlier, I had been practicing in Illinois where I’d received my doctorate. After joining the army and moving to Alabama, the Illinois licensing folks had demanded to see my college loan repayment plan and placed me on a temporary Refusal to Renew status. I had no intention of renewing my Illinois license at that point, but to clear my name, I sent them a copy of my payment plan right away. About two months later it was accepted, and I was cleared. End of story. Or so I thought.

Until that rainy afternoon of March 1, 2018, when I would have to break the news to my wife, Andrea, that her husband was suddenly unemployed while my giggling daughter Riley celebrated her fourteenth birthday with her giggling friends in the next room. Andrea had been worried because I’d had a doctor’s appointment for an annual checkup that afternoon, and she’d thought I’d be home early after that. I explained to her that I hadn’t even made it to the doctor, so there was no medical problem that had me delayed and nothing to worry about there. Then, what? Was there a problem at work? Was there a threat or something? Are you okay? Andrea’s brows tightened, and her face reddened with worry.

I was terminated. I said this with a smile on my face and little bit of a snicker in my voice. She looked confused, probably as much by my reaction as by what I had just said. I explained the situation to her, shaking my head and trying not to laugh about how ridiculous it was.

An hour later, we returned to Riley’s birthday party. There had been no tears. No screams of agony. No tortured, Why us? or even What now? In fact, Andrea and I felt closer than ever before. And hopeful. Confident, even. Happy.

You might think that sounds strange. How can you have that reaction to losing your dream job? How could you be happy?

The answer to that question is what prompted me to write this book.

That’s what happens when you’ve got Jesus!

Following my March 1 firing, the