Nov

23

Humility & Bravery Visible

Filed Under Combat PTSD, Life, PTSD, PTSD treatment, Tears of a Warrior, Treating PTSD, War 

by Janet J. Seahorn, Ph.D

ptsd-veteran

           

         

The day was wet and overcast.

 

 

Upon arriving at the VA Hospital in Denver, we noticed how many patients seemed to be waiting for a bus or a taxi. Tony didn’t appear overly eager to walk into the building. Just looking at the entrance from the outside made him nervous. Walking inside was even worse. Almost forty years ago, this was the place he went to get help for the nightmares and panic attacks he was experiencing after returning from Vietnam. A young therapist at the time, untrained and unskilled in working with military personnel thoughtlessly told him to be grateful he made it home, and get on with his life. For thirty years, Tony never went back there… or anywhere else for assistance.

 

            Thank goodness we now have a verifiable diagnosis of these frightening memories; it is PTSD, and veteran centers across America are far more proficient in caring and supporting our wounded troops. Nevertheless, Tony had not been back to the Denver VA Hospital until Monday. We were going to talk with troops in the PTSD Unit of the hospital. This is a seven week program where vets get intensive counseling and treatment for their combat traumas. Today there are nineteen men attending the afternoon discussion. Humility can’t quite describe what we feel when we do such meetings.

 

          The majority of the vets were from the Vietnam era with the remaining members from Iraq and Afghanistan. I am pretty sure most people have little understanding of how much suffering each patient has survived; years of torment and silent screams. Each face revealed a unique map of torment. It appeared that every wrinkle held its own story, its own remembrance.  Yet, it was the younger warriors who made the most emotional impact. Perhaps this was because they reminded us of our sons. Or perhaps, we were too familiar with the pain they were experiencing and the long journey still ahead. Youthful faces were not yet lined with creases, though their eyes held an even deeper look of anguish. Yesterday’s combat field was not that far from today’s reality. Time had not yet put any distance from the rawness of war. Where several Vietnam vets were willing to talk, the young fighters stayed silent.

 

            At the end of the afternoon, one young marine told me how difficult it was for his mother to understand what was happening to him. He talked about how she just kept saying, “Why don’t you just get better? Why aren’t you back to your old self? You weren’t wounded, what is the matter with you?” and then he said sadly, “she told me, why can’t you just take a pill and be OK?” Then he quietly stated, “I’m trying’ I’m really trying, but I just can’t seem to forget, no matter how hard I try.”

 

            It was heartbreaking to watch him describe his situation. First he endured the many horrors of combat. When he came home, he had to endure the unawareness of the “ordinary” people.

 

            Next, there was the tall, thin youth who sat shifting in his chair seeking a more comfortable position. His back pain was obvious, especially when he cautiously walked bracing his weight with his cane. The sweetest, shyest smile spread over his face as he approached. What he requested was an extra copy of our book, Tears of a Warrior. He wanted to send it to his wife, hoping she might read it before he returned home from the hospital. Perhaps she would gain a better understanding of his condition. Perhaps, by understanding, she would be able to bear the years ahead. Perhaps together they might make it though the dark times still to be faced.

 

            More than ever, I am touched by the courage the young and the old veterans demonstrate.  A valor that leads them forwarded searching for a small bit of peace. By making that huge leap of faith to enter this seven week program, they lay bare their demons, hoping by exposure to the light these may leave, or at least become less frightening. For most, I believe this will be true.

 

            Like in combat, sometimes to survive, one must rush towards the enemy fighting with every ounce of power he/she possesses.  Healing requires that same force of power – rushing towards the demons, lets them know you no longer will run from them. When the hiding ends the healing begins.

 

Have a healthy and Happy Thanksgiving.

Comments

2 Responses to “Humility & Bravery Visible”

  1. Tyree Sacre on November 24th, 2010 4:55 pm

    Hello, this is a seriously amazing post. In principle I’d prefer to create articles like this too – taking time and real work to create a brilliant post… but what can I say.!. I procrastinate alot and never appear to get anything done. Thank You for the important topic on PTSD.

  2. Carson Piceno on December 1st, 2010 5:36 pm

    Good post….thanks for sharing.. very useful for me