Several years ago, I suffered a traumatic brain injury. This was not one horrific moment in time which left me in the hospital but a cumulative injury I acquired over the course of my career in a mixed martial arts gym.
Though the changes in my personality were subtle at first, over time they culminated in a defining moment where I was left without the ability to feel an emotional tie to my family, my children. This was frightening for all involved and eventually it forced me into seeing a doctor.
This doctor said something to me I will never forget.
Did you mourn the loss of that part of yourself?
Mourn was a freeing word for me. It let me know it was okay that I was different now, and it was okay that I was not going to be able to retrieve the person I once was no matter how desperately I wanted to.
I was different. I am different. In essence part of me died and that doctor gave me permission to mourn her loss and start to let her go. In letting go, I found the strength to rebuild this new person. And to rebuild my life and my relationships.
When I met Chris, he spoke at length of the person he used to be, before Iraq. We would talk into the wee hours of the morning wrapped in blankets on our tiny porch, him smoking cigarette after cigarette, me wishing he would quit. I listened to every word intently. Eventually, I asked him a question.
Did you mourn the loss of that part of yourself?
He hadn’t, but he looked at me with gratitude on his face. See, I’ve never wanted for the man he used to be because I only know the man he is. This is the man I fell in love with, so I will never know the grief felt by those who sent their soldier and got different person back.
But, did you mourn the loss of who he was? Did he?
When Chris moved out to California to be with me, he moved away from all the people who wanted the old Chris back. The old gang who criticized this new man, shook their heads and walked away wishing he were the same as before. But the impossibility of that is devastating to a person changed by war. They will never be the same.
As humans, we are the sum total of our experiences. Soldiers are no different. They are human but their experiences are unique in terms of seeing things most will never see. The changes are more apparent to loved ones due to the lengthy separation.
He’s so different.
I know he is. He knows he is, but he thinks it’s the world that’s changed. Even if he doesn’t suffer from PTSD, his perspective on what’s important is different. His view is now a view through the eyes of a warrior and will always be.
Mourn the loss of the person sent. Recognize it’s okay to cry and be angry. Then look at this new person and resolve to do what it takes to help him or her find a way to accept themselves again.
He has changed and now so must you. Adapt and overcome.
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