Traumatized — Identify, Understand, and Cope with PTSD and Emotional Stress

In the introduction Morton says plainly why she wrote the book: she has been making online content for over nine years, and not a single day has passed without someone writing to ask whether what they experienced «counts» as trauma. In her view, the knowledge needed to understand PTSD should not be available only to those who can afford a specialist. There is also a notable admission: «I don't consider myself a trauma expert» — her career was built on eating disorders and self-harm, and she came to trauma while looking for the roots of her patients' problems.

Chapter two opens with the history of PTSD: the symptoms called «shell shock» in the First World War, the British army commissioning psychologist Charles Myers to investigate, and rapid-intervention units close to the front. The author then draws on Bessel van der Kolk's «The Body Keeps the Score» to show that trauma is not only a soldiers' problem: statistics such as one in five Americans having been sexually molested as a child, and a quarter of children being beaten by their parents hard enough to leave a mark, give the chapter a heavy backdrop.

At the centre of the chapter are the DSM-5 criteria for PTSD: directly experiencing a traumatic event, witnessing it happen to others, learning that it happened to someone close, or — like first responders and police officers — being repeatedly exposed to its aversive details. Morton unpacks the symptom clusters one by one: intrusive memories and nightmares (her description of flashbacks as «flipping through a photo album» is apt), avoidance, trauma-related memory loss and negative thinking, arousal reactions, and dissociation (depersonalisation and derealisation). The language is plain and the explanations are brought to life with stories from patients and viewers.

This is also where the most contentious point lies. The DSM does not count exposure through electronic media, television or pictures (unless work-related); Morton writes that she «strongly disagrees» and justifies this by how social media has changed since 2013. It fits the thesis of chapter one that «social media is our shared trauma», but it is a personal stance rather than a scientific argument, and readers should take it as such.

The most useful part of the chapter is the distinction between «big T» and «little t» traumas. The author quotes her colleague, trauma specialist Dr Alexa Altman: big T — life-threatening events such as a serious crash, disaster or assault, a «tsunami»; little t — events that exceed one's coping capacity, such as job loss, divorce or chronic illness, «big waves» that keep coming one after another. The story of Morton's friend, who had a happy childhood yet suddenly began to experience dissociation — a move, the deaths of both grandmothers in quick succession and the end of a long relationship — illustrates the idea powerfully.

Critical notes: the quiz at the end of the chapter («have you experienced stressful events in the last six months to a year?», «have there been changes in your work situation?») is so broad that almost any adult would answer «yes» to several questions; treating more than one «yes» as a sign of little-t trauma risks stretching the concept of trauma to cover everyday stress. The book is not academic — references are few and some are popular sources. The Turkish translation reads smoothly, though some sentences are muddled (for instance, the claim that the new DSM edition was «published on social media in 2013»). Even so, the chapter is a warm and accessible guide for readers meeting PTSD for the first time, and it stays responsible by repeatedly recommending professional help.

• A conversational tone enlivened by stories from patients, viewers and friends
• A «Key Ideas» list at the end of each chapter
• Self-assessment quizzes and footnoted references