UKC

I started climbing when I was 45 and have been climbing for 7 years. I had developed a decent level of mental resilience towards falling on both Lead routes and bouldering and had never witnessed any serious accidents. However over the last 2 months I’ve witnessed three horrific indoor bouldering accidents where each climber badly broke their legs – I’m talking bones snapping loudly , open fractures (of thigh bone), ankles facing opposite  way, screams of pain from the depth etc.. you get the picture! I’ve now developed a fear of falling off boulders myself well I certainly bail out when tackling any cruxes which are high on the boulder. After a few days from the first accident I was able to fully commit to climbing at my max level and really go for moves , however the last accident I just can’t seem to get into bouldering anymore ( basically I’ve got scared through witnessing someone else’s misfortune ) Had have difficulty sleeping , I’m wondering if I have developed mild case of PSTD?  this , I’ve sadly stopped bouldering now and just don’t feel confident with falls. I’m Interested to know if any other climbers have experienced this and what they did to overcome it.

PTSD involves flashbacks and nightmares along with sleeping difficulty so possibly? I reckon it's pretty reasonable to feel an aversion to bouldering after those accidents, I saw a couple of accidents associated with roped climbing, never really figured out how to get my confidence back so I climbed lower grades for a while and the aversion seemed to reduce.

Go and spend some time with a trauma counsellor or speak to your GP.

I've had a few periods where I struggled a bit being at busy indoor roped venues where there was unsafe belay practice. It started when someone got dropped to the ground on the rope next door to me (missing me by about a foot) as I belayed at the old Beacon, and it sensitised me to poor belay practice (a completely avoidable safety issue). In indoor sessions with too much bad belaying visible, I'll want to stop. With bouldering, falling takes practice and sort of 'fights' psychology (it's better to be relaxed, not reach out with arms, etc), and spotting well is a skill, so I'd always forgive mistakes there. It's harder to understand regular, sketchy looking, gung-ho moves at the top of the bouldering walls and unforgivable to see those occasionally blithely walking under people on the bouldering wall. I've not had problems outdoors despite being around a few bad accidents, as they were more about bad luck. I guess it's stupidity and not paying attention to responsibility in a risk activity that gets to me, especially where it impacts others.

It sounds like you’re suffering from trauma for certain, and given the description of what you witnessed it’s hardly surprising. I can’t give you any clinical advice, but I can tell you what helped me move past my own trauma, which hopefully will be of some use.

I used to do HEMA(Historical European Martial Arts) some years back, German long sword to be specific. We wore very heavy duty protective fencing gear, our weapons had blunted and rounded tips, so injury wasn’t common. Unfortunately during a fight my opponent’s blade broke at the tip and stabbed under my protection into the artery in my hand, leading to nearly a pint of blood loss in less than a minute, sending me into shock. Clearly we stopped the bleeding, and I have no lasting physical damage. But for a good while afterwards I was getting flashbacks and panic attacks related to the event.

What helped me was to ease myself back into the activity slowly, with people who I trusted to train and fight safely and were aware of my lingering trauma. So instead of diving back into sparring I started solo drilling, then slow drilling with my partner, then faster drilling, until eventually I was able to spar again with a comfortable level of fear. Applied to climbing that could be replicated by bouldering bf indoors for a time with trusted, safe partners, and pushing your boundaries slowly when you feel able to cope with the fear. From there perhaps progressing to safe boulders outdoors with people you trust, and slowly building up your zone of comfort.

Aside from that, learning to sit with the fear and memories was necessary for me to move forward. Emotional regulation techniques such as box breathing and sensory grounding helped me through many panic attacks, and being open to others about what your struggling with will make it easier to get the support you need in those bad moments. And as trite as it sounds, it will get better over time, it just takes some work. 

Sorry to hear of your experience, it can't be fun. I wont add to the good advice above, but would recommend taking time to consider your own approach to climbing, how you evaluate risk, manage your centre of gravity which of course, affects your ability to fall well.

I've learnt that working at a Bouldering facility, it is important to detach yourself from what you see at times, although I appreciate that is easier for some than others. You didn't mention incurring any serious injury yourself in seven years. There's probably a good reason why you've avoided such incident and that's usually due too good practice. Take stock in that and best of luck.

Whilst I do sympathise with your traunma it is worth noting that bouldering is 20 times more dangerous than roped climbing. This might help to put your hesitancy into perspective. 

If you have one available I would concentrate on roped climbing for a while. Your belayer should use a auto lock device and follow best practice. Don't be afraid to educate them.

There are disciplines to help with hesitancy in the roped environment. Fall practice after you have become entirely comfortable and confident in your and your partners competence in following best practice. 

You might find this unlocks your bouldering but will not change the fact that it is inherently more dangerous activity. 

On the other hand having broken bones myself I can tell you for a fact that it's a shock when it happens but not at all bad. You might be helped by chatting with one of the injured climbers about how bad it really was after the initial shock. They may we'll be back climbing whilst you are still fixated on the moment.

I'm not doubting you at all but I was surprised by your statement that "...bouldering is 20 times more dangerous than roped climbing"

Can you point me to the source of this statistic?

Yeah, the bmc have a database of accidents in climbing centres. Can't remember where the link is but it shouldn't be too hard to find.

"On the other hand having broken bones myself I can tell you for a fact that it's a shock when it happens but not at all bad."

This. I won't claim it was fun but having broken more than a few bones now (mostly not climbing) I'll take most breaks over tendon issues and the like. I broke an ankle bouldering and never stopped climbing on it really, while tendon stuff has killed whole summers stone dead

Is the data corrected for participation rates?

I refer you to the database. 

When I broke my leg a few years back (bone sticking out; 2 hours on a ledge waiting for MR) in the aftermath I mentally had a couple of horrible nightmare nights, but then basically was ok in terms of coming to terms with the accident*. My girlfriend however, who was with me throughout, had a much tougher time. She had nightmares for weeks and a lot of trouble with invasive thoughts about the accident especially when trying to get to sleep. 

I think there is something about the human mind such that it is almost worse to witness the accident than suffer it. (A but like how it can be scarier to watch someone soloing than solo something yourself.) I know exactly how bad the accident was, and my brain adjusted to that experience. My partner just has her imagination running riot about it with no firm sense of how to calibrate a response. I guess it’s the flip side of the incredible capacity for empathy that humans have. 

in sum: I don’t think it’s unusual to find you have this reaction. It may be worth investing a couple of sessions with a counsellor to talk about to. Another remarkable thing about human minds is that talking these things out really does help us get better. 
 

* different story getting back into lead climbing 6 months later, obvs 

Sounds like an understandable and pretty normal response to witnessing some really nasty accidents. Go easy on yourself; your brain is doing what it is designed to do and trying to keep you safe. Rather than being disordered in some way, I like to think of it more like an overly-helpful friend who's worried about you and working a bit too hard to keep you safe at the moment.

The accidents you saw are still very recent; as general advice I'd say take it slow. Either take some time focussing on other types of climbing or build back gradually to bouldering by pushing your comfort zone a little bit each session. It's a cliche, but time is a great healer. In the vast majority of cases, the sort of difficulties you describe resolve themselves within a few months (often less) as you go about life and have time to process what you've seen.

If the sleep difficulties are causing problems then a GP visit might be wise, likewise if you are noticing that things are getting worse rather than better (e.g. starting to avoid more and more situations that remind you of the accidents.) Although remember to never rely on internet healthcare advice! You know yourself and your situation best, so if you think you need to enlist additional support, do so.

When you're in the experience, you have to deal with it. So, at least to some degree, your brain is focused on personal problem solving along the lines of, 'How do I get out of this alive'? Which is a pretty healthy attitude. 

But when you're the observer and not the participant, even if you're physically helping the participant, you can feel psychologically helpless. Over time, that can get worse and worse, especially if guilt (however unwarranted) seeps into the psychic wounds. 

In The White Cliff, Grant Farquhar made a masterly psychiatric evaluation of Paul Pritchard's near death experience in Wen Zawn. He pointed out that there wasn't just one victim; there were two. And the second - then undiagnosed - victim arguably had an even harder time afterwards. 

Mick 

Absolutely - and what made it worse in our case was that after I was put in the ambulance and taken to hospital, everyone just waved goodbye to each other and went home. Except my gf, who was stood in car park with two rucksacks by herself. Not nice for her, to say the least. 

This is so true. I used to work in humanitarian aid and have witnessed a lot of extremely traumatised people who had experienced very violent acts. Even just hearing those experiences recounted - and that through a translator - certainly had an effect on my mental health, at least in the short term. Clearly however I’m now fine whereas those people that lost relatives are almost certainly not, so it is very much either an initial defence or the flip side of our empathy and imagination. 
 

Hope the OP makes a good and speedy recovery. 

Time is a pretty good healer when you've witnessed horrible stuff. For a while you just can't get it out of your head at all then later that eases but the memory is still easily triggered then eventually, I think for most of us anyway, life just goes on and normality returns. You might still recall the event occasionally but it slowly loses its power over you. If you've found something else you enjoy just give yourself a break from the bouldering for a bit, see how that goes.

If that's not working for you then as someone else has suggested, find a trauma counsellor, see if you can speed the process up a bit.

jk

People tend to focus on the primary victim, to the detriment of the secondary one(s). Am sorry about your girlfriend; it must have been awful for her. 

Mick 

Yeah I think it’s something that doesn’t really get talked about enough - as you say, the “secondary” victim is a victim too, just one that it’s easy to forget about. 

Paul, I totally feel for your girlfriend, having been in a similar situation myself.  Never felt so alone as having been dropped off at the van, with the rucksacks after other half was airlifted to hospital.

Had to make my way in to see him, pick up the kids, try to make things normal for them, go to work the next day etc.  It certainly wasn’t easy.  But it does fade.

There's a couple of poignant episodes of Jamcrack podcast relevant, if you haven't heard them - recent Brian Hall on being the last man standing of his group - http://www.niallgrimes.com/jam-crack-climbing-podcast/2022/11/30/jcpc-123-b...

Paul Pritchard talks about his accident(s) - http://www.niallgrimes.com/jam-crack-climbing-podcast/2021/8/16/jcpc-101-pa...

Sorry I don't have much useful to add to our OP. I watched a high ground fall off Right Unconquerable, tried to make them comfortable, went off to call an ambulance (pre-mobiles), watched the regular ambulance crew try to bring a big ugly wheeled stretcher across the Plantation (I told them that wouldn't work when I called). Then helped when the MR crew turned up.

The odd thing like people above say, when the guy was bussed out and it all went back to 'normal'. This was pre social media, so we just had to hope for the best in the absence of knowing more. I tried calling the Hallamshire a few days later as it was on my mind but they couldn't talk to me.

Time will help surely and just gently push your comfort zone.

I've not heard either of them. Thank you. When you're the last man standing, it's very easy to have 'survivor guilt'. Why did better climbers/people die and I'm still here? Why did I get a free pass and they didn't? There is of course no easy answer (well, apart from being hideously lucky). 

Hope the person survived the RU fall. That's a long way to go. I remember seeing a pool of blood under Flying Buttress Direct. Adrian was OK, though sadly succumbed to cancer some years later. 

Also remember positioning my (life) partner belaying in a pool of my dried blood from the previous day. The dumbest mistake of my life; it very nearly ended hers'. What can happen when obsession takes over. 

And they say climbing's a sport! Stay safe out there.

Mick

I should have added this to my earlier post, but in terms of practical things you can try right now a fundamental skill in most anxiety/trauma management work is being able to use your breathing or body to regulate your anxiety levels and bring yourself back to the present moment (as opposed to getting caught up with painful memories or worries).

There’s tons of resources/variations on a theme out there but you could do worse than playing with the “dropping anchor” recordings here: https://www.actmindfully.com.au/free-stuff/free-audio/ 

And/or box breathing: https://www.verywellmind.com/the-benefits-and-steps-of-box-breathing-415990...

Top tip: don’t wait until you’re really struggling to give it a try. Practice daily even if you’re feeling okay so it feels familiar and easy to remember when you really need it. Link practicing to something you do every day so you don’t forget, like brushing your teeth or waiting for your cuppa to brew. 

Possibly one of the things that helped you recover psychologically was that you were able to evaluate exactly what went wrong and what made your accident as severe as it was - I remember your account, "doh!" type error IIRC. But having that certainty may have reduced the amount of "what ifs" you thought about.

Your partner, whilst able to understand your evaluation, may have found it more difficult to reconcile that with her traumatic experience and all the "what ifs" that must have been running through her brain.

When we go climbing, we tend to inhabit a 'bubble of certainty' that all is going to be OK. When that bubble bursts we're instantly plunged into trauma.

The first time it happened to me, I was only 15, on a remote crag in Ireland. I struggled to get my head round what had just happened - and what had so nearly happened. 

When the bubble of certainty - which is of course illusory - bursts, it's an abrupt entry into another reality. 

Mick 

What Paul said.  After I broke my leg (see metal work in my gallery) I thought I was fine but two years later when the anxiety that had been with me went, it was a huge shock.  Like shrugging off a backpack and I was not even aware it was there.  Luckily for me it was really mild but it gave me an appreciation of the struggles of people who have had a real mental trauma.  Two years ago when I came off my bike at 34mph and broke every rib on my left side, several in multiple places, my collar bone in two places and damaged my lungs and a few other organs I was a bit worried I might have some issues getting back on my bike.  To avoid this I looked into counselling and there are a lot of very effective techniques for dealing with mental injuries (I suppose?).  Luckily I had nothing to worry about, sadly I shattered my right arm and broke my left wrist in two places in another bike accident but again luckily apart from another 9 screws and new Ti plate, all good mentally and physically but I made sure to focus on my head as well.

Treat this like any other training injury, understand you’re injured, will need rest and to take it easier and that you will need sometime to recover.  Set a goal to make a full recovery (if that’s what you want) and work to achieve it.  Don’t let fear hold you back.

best of luck

Toby

I think that is exactly right