Showing posts with label PTSD. Show all posts
Showing posts with label PTSD. Show all posts

Wednesday, August 13, 2014

Erasing a Stigma

It seems that the tragic passing of Robin Williams has brought light to an epidemic many of us have been fighting in the shadows.  Why has it taken the death of someone famous for making millions of us laugh, to bring public awareness to a disease that we have been plagued with for hundreds of years?  Current data suggests that 22 Veterans take their lives... a day.  22 people who survived military duty (combat or not), whose demons eventually won out.  That statistic is thought to be wrong amongst recent veterans returning from the OIF/OEF conflict.  Many of those take their lives as a result of PTSD.  The public at large seems to think this is a new phenomena, but there are several items to take into consideration.  During WWI and WWII, and early battles, Soldiers had several weeks to decompress from the tragedies of war.  Spending weeks together with fellow brothers who had seen the atrocities of war, being able to vent their fears and anger to one another without fear of being judged.  They had time to come to terms with what our nation asked of them during these times.  Then the came home to their families never to speak of it again.  Now, when our time at war is done, we get on a plane, fly home, have a week of "reintegration" and are asked to get back to our daily lives.  Now, there is a stigma that if you seek help or treatment you are weak.  It can undermine a career by imparting the notion that you are not fit for command or a leadership role because you are unstable.  When we are separated from service, and our employers find out that we have PTSD, all the can think is that we are going to snap and go on a shooting rampage because we are unstable.  

These are the stigmas that make talking about mental health illnesses difficult.  It is easier to deny anything is wrong than to admit we have demons we are battling.  Depression is only one symptom of PTSD.  There are many more.  Irritability, anger, lashing out, becoming withdrawn, insomnia, flashbacks, sadness, anxiety, and so many more.  Suicidal thoughts come with the territory.  Those of us strong enough to ask for help, are often shot down.  "So many people have it worse than you.  You shouldn't be depressed".  "Just be happier".  "Remember you have a family, don't be selfish".   A lot of people just don't know how to talk to or respond to someone when they say they are depressed and may be contemplating suicide.  For people who have never been that far in despair, they just don't understand.  And that's OK.  But dismissing the other persons' feelings is not the way to help.  Let them know that you are always around to listen, that you care.  Just knowing you have people in your corner can be the life jacket that person is looking for.

When I was sent back stateside from Iraq, I was not medevac'd.  I was sent via space-a.  I had to wait around Kuwait for 2 weeks for a seat to become available and for my unit to fix the paperwork they screwed up on.  When I got back to Atlanta, no one from my Rear-D unit was there to pick me up.  No homecoming welcome.  I had to take a cab from the airport to Fort Benning, a nearly 2 hour trip.  I checked into my hotel, and was told to report to work 6 hours later.  They initially tried to chapter me out on a bad conduct mischarge...which is funny because I didn't have a single negative counseling statement....that I knew of.  Come to find out, 3 had been written while I was in limbo, and where I was supposed to sign, my squad leader had written in "Soldier Unavailable to Sign.". More on this at a later date...thankfully I had a few docs that stood up for me, and pushed me through the med board process; I was eventually medically retired out of the Army 13 months after returning home.  I was treated like shit, because everyone in my unit thought I was faking it, trying to get out of deployment.  I had been there for 7 months, and wanted to make the Army a career.  I had no support.  No friends.  No family (locally).  I was at my wit's end.  Thankfully, I had my family's support.  I would call my mom bawling my eyes out, because I just couldn't take it anymore.  I wanted to give up.  So a week after returning home, my parents and 2 youngest sisters drove from VA to GA to come see me.  Give me much needed hugs and emotional support.  They stayed for a week.  Without them, who knows what would have happened.  My mom reminded me how strong I was.  I'm a Mayo, damn it.  And that means something.  I had my son who needed his mother.  And I had something to prove.  That no matter how much you may beat me down, degrade me, make me feel like nothing; I'm not going anywhere.  I know in my heart what the truth was/is, and I'll be damned if some ignorant, judgmental, self-serving, assholes were going to take that away from me.  I haven't written a lot about my time in service, or what happened to me while deployed and upon returning home.  But over the next few months, I think I'm going to let ya'll in.  I think it's important for people to know and recognize that this shit does happen.  And if it's happening to you, you're not alone.  There are actions you can take, and recourse for those who think they are above it all.  


Tonight, I just wanted to open the door.  Let people know that if you're struggling with PTSD, depression, or any other issue, there ARE people who care.  If you need someone to talk to, I AM HERE to listen to you.  All you have to do is reach out.  You are stronger than you think you are.

If you or someone you know is struggling, there are options.  Sometimes the most difficult thing to do is to ask for help.  You don't want to burden loved ones with your issues.  I'm here to tell you, it's not a burden.


Saturday, July 5, 2014

July 4 2014 - As I Remember It

The day started off quite nicely.  Made some deviled eggs while the hubby prepared the meat for the burgers and we awaited the arrival of a good friend of ours who would be joining us for a small little barbeque.  Dinner went according to plan.  The evening was peaceful...until 2130.  That's when our small little village of a town decided to light off their fireworks display from less than 1/4 mile from our house.  No warning, no little baby fireworks to get the show started...but the big loud BOOM ones.  That is the first time in a LONG time, I've actually jumped up from my chair where I was sitting outside and tried diving for cover.  My heartbeat easily doubled, my chest felt tight, and I remembered the last time in Iraq that my base had been
mortared...

Monday, January 13, 2014

Reflections

When I tell people that I was in the army, the first question is always, "Did you go to Iraq?  Afghanistan?".  When I inform them that I did deploy to Iraq for OIF VII, the question that always follows next is, "What was it like?".  People  may think that it is an easy question to answer, but quite the contrary, it is not.  What part of Iraq do you want to know about?  There are many.  Do you want to do what the social and family ties and the stresses it caused was like?  Do you want to know what war is like?  Or what about the countryside?  The people and the children?  Being a medic?  What part do you want to know about?  The part where I admit it broke me all to hell and I will never be the same again?    Which part?

Friday, October 18, 2013

When The Past Comes Back To Haunt You...

Ya know how life has a tendency to get in the way?  Well yea..  Life has kinda kept me on my toes the last few weeks so I apologize for my absence!  I was going to write about the damn government shut down...but I decided that would just be an angry rant and decided against it. :)

But this...I feel is important and might help those of you who actually read what I have to say.

I was talking to a friend of mine the other night...we were reminiscing about our antics while in Kuwait.  I asked him if he could believe it had been 4 years since that time...  He said, "No it hasn't been... it feels like it was yesterday..."  And that got me thinking...  He also asked why certain things smell a specific way causing him to remember the past...Did you know your olfactory senses have the strongest link to your memories?  That's why when you smell the perfume your grandma used to wear, you immediately think of her even though she may have been deceased for 10 years.

Me and one of our docs.


Especially for veterans who have seen war, flashbacks are a very real occurrence.  Not everyone will act out those flashbacks; many will look like they've "zoned out".  In reality, they are reliving that memory as if it were on a big movie screen.  As my friend and I were talking, I remembered a patient I treated.  He was clinically dead, but we were able to revive him despite his severe injuries.  I was holding c-spine (maintaining head control), looking him in the eye and making him talk to me to keep him conscious.  His eyebrows and eyelashes were burned off.  He had burns all over his body; the stench of burning skin and hair is a smell that I will never forget.  He had multiple broken bones and partial amputations.  His carotid artery started bleeding through the bandages and I had to use my thumb as a plug to stop the bleeding in his neck.  While all this was going on and he was being treated by 4 other medics; we talked about getting his 5 year old and my 7 year old together when we both got home and they could play football together.  I will never forget his face, his eyes staring up at me, pleading with me to reassure him that all will be will.  When he was MEDEVAC'ed from our facility, he was alive.  He made it all the way to Germany before succumbing to his injuries.  I was sent home not too long after due to my seizures and made it to his memorial.  It's something I will never forget.  And there are times where it seems like it was just yesterday...The day after my husband knew I was in a funk and I explained to him what was going through my head, and he did the perfect thing.  He just let me be.  Sometimes all a person suffering from PTSD who is dealing with the aftermath of a flashback or night terror needs, is to be left alone for the day...to have that time to sort it out in their own mind.  He was there for me when I needed a hug, when I needed to talk.. but he also gave me my space.  I spoke to my friend on Tuesday... and parts of our conversation brought up memories I had pushed aside..I am wondering if perhaps my inability to close them off again resulted in my seizure last night.  Stress and lack of sleep are triggers.  It was as I was falling asleep I guess.  My hubby told me about it.. which makes sense and explains the sore tired muscles I have today.

My service dog, Kane, also knew something was up.  He didn't leave my side all day long.  It's been 4 years since my deployment to Iraq, but there are times where it seems like it was yesterday.  I see all the people I treated in flashbacks before my eyes.  Sometimes in night terrors.. sometimes when I'm zoning out during the day/day dreaming.  Sometimes it's the same scene, other times it's like a movie on fast forward and I see everything.  Sometimes the tears start flowing and I don't know why...I can't stop them, they're just there.  Sometimes I'm cranky and I snap at my son and husband.  Sometimes I'm able to smile and be thankful that I made it home despite my health issues. And sometimes I feel guilty because I survived and some of my friends did not.. (it's called survivor's guilt).. 

I bring this up not because I want your pity...but I believe that people need to be aware that when it comes to PTSD, there's no timeline in when we get better.  Some days are better than others... And sometimes it's all you can do just to get out of bed.  A certain smell, word, or the way a specific landscape looks can remind us of the dust bowl we were in and the horrific things we saw.  When we withdraw or pull back, it's not because we don't love you, it's because we're trying to deal with the images and memories in our head.  If you've never been there, if you've never seen it...it's hard to talk to someone who doesn't understand.  Rather than just listening, most people try to understand and interrupt to ask questions.  While I admire their desire to learn in order to understand...when you're hurting, the last thing you want to do is educate.  If you want to learn more, ask during a GOOD day, or do some research online.  Want to help your friend but don't know how?  My husband wrote an AMAZING post about how to support a loved one with PTSD.  Please check it out.  Some items may work for your situation, some may not.  But it's some good information from an outsiders point of view.

Dealing with PTSD, Depression, and/or Suicide as a family member or friend


Iraqi sunset
I know this isn't my typical post... But this is about the day in my life.  And not all days are hunky dory peachy keen.  Some days suck.  This week has been full of those sucky days.  But that's why I have my pottery.  When my hands are in clay... a lot of this stuff seems to dissolve...and I feel better.  At times, it's better therapy than any shrink could ever do.  Not to diminish the importance of a psychologist in the healing process for veterans and/or those with PTSD... but for me...art therapy has done more for me than anything else.

Don't be afraid to reach out for help.  Don't know how to explain what is going through your mind/heart?  Grab a pen...a pencil..a paint brush.. some clay.  And just create.  It doesn't have to be the next Picasso.. it just has to help you through the hard days... And for me.. I can assure you that it does.