“These classes were the thing that pushed me out of the house, from the seclusion I was in all the time,” recounts de Paz, 41, from Zichron Ya’acov. “They required me to take public transportation, walk the streets of Tel Aviv, meet people, and in time also get back to driving and get to the conservatory by car.”
Why did you come to the program?
“I wanted to try music therapy. At first I was afraid of it, I was even afraid to get on public transportation and come to the conservatory. But still I decided to give it a try. My therapist in Tel Hashomer really pushed me in that direction.”
De Paz is still not recognized as having undergone shell shock even though he suffers from symptoms. “For me, PTSD is mainly expressed in physical pain, which is the result of anxiety attacks,” he says. “I have been in the process of trying to gain recognition for four years.”
What is your experience in the program?
“Before the first time there were a lot of concerns, but in the end, I went there, and it’s lasted for three years. It is a very pleasant place, very facilitating, it is different from going to conventional therapy. There is room for conversation, I sometimes spend a quarter of the class talking to my teacher. We had online meetings during the pandemic, and now we’re back to music classes at the conservatory.”
The tragic case of Itzik Saidian – the shell-shocked combat soldier from Operation Protective Edge who set himself on fire in front of the offices of the Defense Ministry’s Rehabilitation Department in Petah Tikva last month, in protest of the treatment he received from them – brought to light the many hardships faced by PTSD sufferers, including trouble gaining recognition and the bureaucracy.
“Unfortunately, I think they will continue to talk about the case of Itzik Saidian for a long time, and then it will fade,” says de Paz. “We’re dealing with a dinosaur [antiquated policies] here, and until they undertake a proper revolution – that is, uproot everything and rebuild the Defense Ministry’s Rehabilitation Department – nothing will help. The method in which it is currently operating is a method that cannot deal with the problem.”
“I hear a lot of media people on radio and television talking about the deep shock from Itzik Saidian’s issue, but this thing has been around for so long and they haven’t touched upon it,” says Eyal Atzmon, 35, from Geva Carmel, a PTSD sufferer who fought in the Second Lebanon War and is also in the music program. “We haven’t just started living with it today. I myself had to spend tens of thousands of shekels on a lawyer to get the rights I deserve, until finally I was recognized as having PTSD. If you took away a person from his civilian life so that he could fulfill his duty as a citizen of Israel, then you also need to return him to his civilian life.”
Atzmon, who earns his living from music, came to the program about two years ago. “Among other things, I work as a sound technician, an amplifier worker, teach music, create music, study music therapy and am also learning to heal myself in this way.”
What is the power of music in the healing process?
“First of all, I chose to play a saxophone in the program, an instrument I do not usually play. The sessions are not just for the purpose of playing a musical instrument. We always open our sessions by talking. Also, when playing a wind instrument you need to be very focused on your breathing and on your hands. It requires multitasking that silences all the noises around you. The music makes me quiet, allows me to take out the inner noises and concentrate. It is very significant for me, because it allows me moments of silence, moments when I don’t have explosions in my head.
“Music takes me to places I don’t recognize, it frees me from my burdens and it really became a way of life. I was involved in music even before I came to the program, but participating in it sharpened the reason why I create and play. Music does not depend on anything, and that’s its strength. Enjoying it does not depend on anything else.”
Like meditation
The program, the only one of its kind in the world, was launched in November 2016 with 12 participants - from the Yom Kippur War to Protective Edge – and has since expanded and now has about 60 participants. Some learn singing or playing various instruments as part of weekly individual lessons with conservatory teachers; some play in a band that holds weekly rehearsals under the guidance of a teacher at the conservatory; and some participate in group settings – musicians’ meetings, workshops and lectures.
Among the artists accompanying the program are Yoav Kutner, Achinoam Nini, Gil Dor, Alon Oleartchik, Shem Tov Levi, Shlomo Gronich, Shlomo Ydov, Yoni Rechter, Ester Rada, Eviatar Banai and Yirmi Kaplan. In March, a workshop for original work – writing and composing songs – led by Dan Toren, was opened in the program.
“At first I see a haze in participants’ eyes, and then when they start playing, the fog seems to dissipate and they smile again,” shares Kobi Salomon, a saxophone teacher who has been with the program for three years. “They come completely turned off, and the music brings the spark back to their eyes. Playing the saxophone is also really a kind of meditation. You feel how the energy calms their inner storms and makes way for sanity.”
You also talk, not just play?
“Of course. A year ago I taught a class in a high school in Herzliya and invited Eyal Atzmon, who I teach saxophone, to tell the students his story of post-trauma. I also had a guy in the program who was seriously injured in Protective Edge, was in a coma for almost two months and underwent a long rehabilitation, and someone else who was injured in an operation in Lebanon. Everyone opens up. There is intimacy in the classes, I also keep asking them questions.
“The conversation along with the music allows them to let go. We also do a lot of improvisation. Improvisation gives them more room to express themselves. Their sense of ability – after they succeed – is amazing.”
Relief and development
“Music allows people to express themselves non-verbally,” says Yifat Greenwald-Cohen, a clinical psychologist who treats shell-shocked patients and is the initiator of the program, running it alongside Michal Arad-Abramov. “Many times it is difficult to express trauma in words, it is much more than words. A lot lies in feelings, it is written in the body. Music has the ability to bypass the verbal issue, and people can express themselves in their happy feelings and their sad feelings. Music allows for a wide range of emotions.”
How does this specifically help PTSD victims?
“PTSD victims suffer from severe and annoying symptoms of flashbacks, nightmares, disturbing thoughts, restlessness. Their trauma is experienced in the present and not in the past, and music is a distraction, allowing them to sail to other places and get some relief from their very heavy mental load. We allow them to be relieved, but also to develop. We believe that when a person deals with a subject in a way that has real meaning, there is an extraordinary rehabilitative achievement here. We have a team of volunteers who are in touch with participants and are attentive to their needs.
“A big part of rehabilitation is listening to the specific needs of the individual. With a physical injury we talk about making things accessible for the disabled, while here we’re actually producing mental accessibility for PTSD sufferers. We adapt ourselves to their ability and learning conditions, while saying that a person can carry a lot of baggage, but he can also develop and grow in the field of music. We believe that a person can be in a challenging situation and produce a process of development.”
The program is funded by donations, with participants paying a nominal fee. To participate, they are not required to present an official reference from the Defense Ministry; only from professionals. “The waiting list for our program is very long, and we want to keep raising funds so we can help these people,” Greenwald-Cohen says. “It is very important to help these people with the initial coping and not to wait until the end of the recognition process. The closer the intervention is to the time of the wound, the better the prognosis will be.”
Did you receive more inquiries following the Itzik Saidian case?
“Itzik Saidian’s case gave expression to something that’s already happening, it’s not that now there are more people suffering. There are people who suffer from post-trauma all the time, and we constantly have inquiries, only it is not in the headlines.
“I wish we could reach everyone who needs it.”
Translated by Benny Glatt.