this is why...

When I was a kid, we had a gentleman down the street who was a Vietnam veteran.  He was mean and didn’t want us on his lawn.  I didn’t understand at the time.  I didn’t know what post-traumatic stress disorder was.  After all, my father had been in the Navy just before I was born in 1970.  He was fine.  He didn’t yell at the kids on the block or stare incessantly at nothing.

As years passed, school taught me about war, but the only tangible things we learned were dates, death tolls, and war heroes.  We never learned about the thousand yard stare, or the horrible price our soldiers paid to live afterward.

When I met my husband, he’d already been diagnosed with PTSD from his time as a combat medic in Iraq, so instead of writing him off like I’d done in the past, I opened my computer and typed in the words - and how very lucky we all are to have that option.  What I got in return was an education on the human condition.  Throughout time, authors have written about PTSD though never uttered the words.  Homer wrote about it, Ajax going mad under Athena’s spell then taking his own life.  Lady Percy witnessed Hotspur’s “terrible nightmares”, intrusive thoughts, and detachment after battle in Shakespeare’s Henry IV.  PTSD even shows its head on the civilian side in Jane Austin in Anne speaking about Louisa having a nearly fatal fall and never being quite the same afterward.  PTSD has always been there, always a specter haunting the aftermath of war.

Across the world and throughout history, the names have been countless.  Soldier’s Heart, Shell Shock, Heimweh (German for homesick), Estar Roto (Spanish for to be broken), Battle Fatigue.  The Swiss called it Nostalgia, the French, maladie du pays.  Eventually, in the 1980s, doctors stopped tempering the names with the belief it would go away with rest or time and they called it post-traumatic stress disorder or PTSD for short.  Sadly, those who had it were also called malingerers.

I, like so many others, was unaware but meeting and falling in love with someone who suffered from PTSD was an eye opening experience.  I learned so much, mostly that education is the key.  The more we know about PTSD the easier it is to provide comfort, provide assistance, and provide answers.

My husband and I spent a lot of time sitting on the porch in the wee hours of the morning.  He smoked and talked.  I listened.  I didn’t judge, I didn’t offer “I understands”.  I just listened.  His PTSD brings a lot of hard days.  We’ve progressed, but it’s still an uphill battle.  He suffers periods of depression, anger, withdrawal from family, nightmares, and hallucinations both visual and audible.  There are also many physical issues such as unexplainable pain, pseudo-seizures, loss of concentration, and stomach problems.

Eventually, my desire to know everything about PTSD led me to Courage Beyond.  I found helpful information about treatments, symptoms, support groups, but most importantly, I found others.  Others who’d made it or those who were still walking the same path I was but moving forward.  It was like the beacon I’d been trying to follow, the one that had gone on and off for so long, finally stayed lit.

Not too long ago, my husband asked me to help him die.  He said he couldn’t live like this anymore.  We’d had a high stress day, or maybe it was an anniversary he’d not shared. It wasn’t the first time, and I know it won’t be the last, but I’m also hearing it less and less as time passes and we learn the ropes of dealing with post-traumatic stress disorder.  I’m not sure how many spouses have heard this request from their loved one, but I know I am not the only one.  I am also thankful that he says the words instead of keeping them to himself.  He’s found a way to reach out. 

Unfortunately, our loved ones cannot always find the strength to reach out to us.  They fear judgment.  They fear causing burden, and sadness.  In their mind they may decide the family is better off without them.  Families likewise may suppress their feelings or go into autopilot.  Relationships diminish slowly but steadily when this happens.  This is where Courage Beyond comes in.  We offer that anonymous hand, the one without strings or worries of causing pain.  We’re there for the entire family providing online counseling, a crisis line, a community of others who’ve been there, and one-on-one sessions with doctors all over the United States.  We are a safe place to share your struggles and talk to others who’ve been through it.

Through our blogs and audio interviews, we offer stories of those who are coping with PTSD or the rigors military life.  Our online support groups are available every week and can be found on our website CourageBeyond.org.  We also provide free of charge one on one counseling to any service member, veteran, family member, or loved one in crisis.  Our focus is to keep those who are coping with the invisible wounds of war from falling through the cracks.

Through vigilance we can all learn to recognize the signs.  If you or someone you know is in crisis please call 866.781.8010.  We can help find strength beyond the battlefield.