If It Helps

[Mike D]

I was left and abandoned by the institution I served and sacrificed my life to so faithfully on active duty for more than two decades (1988-2010) before my PTSD became unmanageable. I believed in the brotherhood of arms and the shared experiences, but, in the end, it was a personal journey to find who I really was again. I suffer everyday, but I manage on my own power, meds, therapy, and the love and understanding of my family. I am a survivor and I take pride in that because many of my buddies did not. I really miss them and I cry for their families often. I am disabled as a result and unable to maintain a job, but I am alive.

 

[Deleted member 43454]

Welcome to the forum Michael DeFeo.
It's always good to know you're not alone.
Thanks for sharing.

 

[SALTY]

WELCOME SIR

 

[Darksoul]

I guess most of us where abandoned by the institution.

But never abandoned by our brothers.........

 

[vikingr24]

I too am disabled but I pushed myself to get a good education, and stuffed PTSD under a blanket. I pay for it now. But to look at me you would not know I am disabled, but thump on my right thigh and you better be able to dodge bullets. (Just kidding, or am i?)

There is an expression from one psychologist that I like: don't let an old man creep into your body. If you adapt that to PTSD, Don't let the Beast consume you.

I like a recent book written by Mike Manson (no relation) called The Subtle Art of Not Giving a F***. Funny but really lets the reader have it as far as facing reality. It is much easier to try and figure out a good rationalization for something you did or feel guilty about than it is to just face reality and admit it hurts, it's painful, and you embrace it while letting it go. There are things that are just not your responsibility. You can't carry grief forever. I still remember them, tragic and ugly deaths and wish I could have taken the time to visit their parents. Some I did, and walked away a zombie. You stare in silence when they ask, Did he feel pain, Were you there with him, Was be brave. I felt they were asking about me. And I had no answer.

The worst part is how we were treated during and after the Vietnam War. I finally learned to just keep my mouth shut, take the punch, and let it slide. We were bigger than them anyway. My way of getting it out was athletics, when I could. And meditation. Being smart about drugs and meds. And doctors. And especially therapists. Some good help here for all that.

Those are your obstacles. Welcome.

 

[SaharaSon]

I was left and abandoned by the institution I served and sacrificed my life to so faithfully on active duty for more than two decades (1988-2010) before my PTSD became unmanageable. I believed in the brotherhood of arms and the shared experiences, but, in the end, it was a personal journey to find who I really was again. I suffer everyday, but I manage on my own power, meds, therapy, and the love and understanding of my family. I am a survivor and I take pride in that because many of my buddies did not. I really miss them and I cry for their families often. I am disabled as a result and unable to maintain a job, but I am alive.

Michael, I relate to the way you handled your experiences. I have for the most part suppressed my experiences most of my life. I just started opening this can of worms this year. I have had a lot of concussions. If there is one good resounding quality of getting banged in the head repeatly (in addition to knocking some sense in to you), it is that it definitely helps you forget some of the bad memories. However, I do not recommend this as a course of medical therapy. Because I have unconsciencely forgotten so much, I consciencely try to slowly, and deliberately walk back into experiences to recall details, because you can forget the beast, but the beast will never completely forget you, or let you go. You have to face that dragon. Like you, I really feel like a survivor, I should have been in a pine box many times over. Thank God for modern medicine. It's alot better to be alive, that is for sure. Shalom.