THE ICE CUBE TRICK
#FindingFather
One way that I have found {to deal with trauma}.... is to go to the freezer, take out an ice cube, place it in the palm of one hand and close your fingers around it when you are feeling the pull to dissociate (which takes some time and repetition to know the signs it may happen). You should hold it as long as you can. The sensation of the extreme cold is uncomfortable; it is so uncomfortable that it pulls your brain back to the moment to address the discomfort.
Matthew Cuddleback, LCSW
Allen and I continue our conversation about the night Ron died.
ME: (holding my notebook open) Can we talk a little more about the night Dad died?
ALLEN: Yeah. Okay. Okay. I think I’m ready. (He is seated on the couch. He balls up his fists and lightly taps them onto his thighs. Stimming to calm himself.)
ME: Last night you told me you felt like you had two separate brains the night Dad died. Do you remember that? (he nods). You also told me that the paramedics who came to help Dad scared you because they were talking about death.
ALLEN: Yeah. It was all death talk. Just death talk. Like it was Dad’s fault for…dying. (Shrug) People can’t help when they die. Can they?
ME: I think we die when it’s our time. I don’t think Dad wanted to die when he did. It was just his time.
ALLEN: Good. Because I don’t want to blame Dad because he died and left us. I try not to blame him. But then sometimes I blame myself.
ME: But you know that’s not true.
ALLEN: I KNOW! But sometimes I can’t help it, because of the voice, you know? It was weird.
ME: Are you okay with it now? With knowing what the voice was?
ALLEN: Yeah, it’s okay now. Just sort of hard to talk about sometimes.
ME: Do you need to get a drink?
ALLEN: No, I’m okay. We can talk, just not about the voice. I don’t like to think about that.
ME: Fine, we won’t talk about the voice. I wanted to ask you about the ice cubes.
ALLEN: Yeah.
ME: I just recently read an article that recommends using ice cubes to help center yourself when something traumatic happens and you feel overwhelmed. I’ve always wondered how you knew to do that the night Dad died. Did your therapist tell you?
ALLEN: No, no, Sue wasn’t here. There were just so many people here and you were busy with the police and Miss Chris and everybody was on the back deck and I just felt…I don’t know. Incomplete? Without Dad, I guess I felt incomplete.
ME: Like you were missing something?
ALLEN. Kind of like that. My left brain was still saying Dad was dead and I was trying to believe that, but the right side said he wasn’t dead. I was split. And no one was in the dining room and it was quiet there. (Shrug). I just thought if I could think about the ice cubes and how they felt in my hands I wouldn’t have to think about all the other stuff then. I could think about it all later and maybe my two brains would agree.
ME: And did they? The two parts of your brain?
ALLEN (Shakes his head): No, not for a long time. You know that. You know it took a long time until both my brains knew Dad was dead. Even now…I’m not 100% sure. It doesn’t make sense to me. (Looks at me and smiles) But don’t worry, Mom. I know Dad’s not coming back. We don’t need to go look for him again.
ME (smiling): We could if you needed to. It was sort of fun! We went to a lot of places while you were looking for Dad.
ALLEN: Sometimes I think we should have looked more, then the left side of my brain says we couldn’t have looked anywhere else because Dad is in Heaven. (Sighs). But I am looking forward to seeing him again. That’ll be fun.
ME: The ice cubes. No one told you to hold ice cubes? It just made sense to you?
ALLEN: It’s like this, Mom. I have super senses. I can see and hear and feel things other people can’t. But sometimes it’s all just too much. You know?
ME: Sort of. I know because of my vision problems, when I look at a light I see multiple lights. That’s why I don’t drive at night.
ALLEN: Yeah, that’s sort of what it’s like. And that night I felt like I was feeling every single thing and it was just too much. At first I thought I could maybe just go for a walk but it was dark out and I worried that you would need me. So then I thought that maybe I could find a way to not feel everything. You know how cold water makes you numb? (I nod) Same thing.
There is a long stretch of silence. Allen continues tapping his thighs with his fists. I resist tapping the pen against my notebook.
ALLEN (Shaking himself as if he has been asleep): I don’t remember getting the ice cubes. But I do remember sitting down in the creaky chair next to Dad’s bed. I remember trying to hold my breath because the guys with the black bags said Dad wasn’t breathing. But I couldn’t do it for long.
ME: And the ice cubes?
ALLEN (sadly): They melted. But while they were really cold in my hands, it felt like the two parts of my brain were getting along with each other. Like Dad was dead but he wasn’t dead. Like he was here but he wasn’t here. Like maybe if I just sat still for a really long time, I could follow his voice. I could be with Dad.
ME: I’m glad you’re here with me.
ALLEN: Yeah. Me, too. You’d be lonely without me.
ME: Yes, I would.
ALLEN: I guess I’d be lonely, too. But it’ll be cool when we see Dad again.
ME: It will be totally cool.
