The Mind of a Soldier Once Returned From War

THIS WAS WRITTEN BY A FRIEND OF MINE, JESSE BARTON, AND SHARED WITH HIS PERMISSION.

 

yours truly, Chris

 
The mind of a soldier once returned from war in a nutshell:

It took me six months after we landed back in Kansas to come to terms that my life was a reality, and I wasn’t living in a fairy tale land.I had abused alcohol on the weekends not caring what happened. I would go to bed at midnight in complete darkness only to fall asleep at 3am and be up within 2.5 hours to get to work.

I did wrong to my friends, and my family thinking of nothing but just doing. Just…wash rinse repeat.

I couldn’t wait to leave active duty and didn’t seek help. I lied to the medical staff saying I was fine, war was a joke, it didn’t bother me. 

I lied to my wife, and myself more importantly.

We moved back to Minnesota, and when we got settled in to our new home in a place that was supposed to be safe, that’s what the realtor said. 2 weeks later a man was gunned down by the police a few blocks away, and the crime just kept coming. 

Every waking moment I was there, I kept myself hypervigalant by locking all the doors, looking out the windows whenever I could, just making sure myself and my family was safe. I didn’t sleep well, and it was rough. I didn’t drink anymore though, I stopped that when we left Kansas, and continue to not 99% of the time.

Wherever we drove I looked for IED’s and suspicious people under bridges, on hills, at crosswalks even. 

We moved finally after a year, and I could only feel a small relief because we moved to a new area I had rarely been. It was quiet, and the neighbors were great. But my head was still lost in Afghanistan. 

I would go to school and be there only the amount of time I needed to. I didn’t hang out with people, and only wanted people to come to me because I felt safe that way. 

Going into crowded places made my heart race, my nerves were short, and I hated staying in the same spot for more then a few minutes. Not just your normal–well she is taking forever to find a shirt — rather it was — I need to get the hell out of here. That lady looked at me, there’s a person 25 meters away, there’s a small kid running free, what’s that light out for? 

We moved to a new neighborhood, bought a house, had Christmas a week or so after we moved in, but I stayed hypervigalant every day. 

I had a breaking point finally after all the negativity that consumed my life. Negativity that I will not share with you Facebook world, and only a few have heard what I have been through. 

The ER nurses and psychiatrist said I didn’t meet the criteria to go to a “loony bin”. So I said ” You wanna play games with me and hand me papers and phone numbers. Well I know how to work the system, I’m not stupid. This regard, I mean me, I’m going to kill myself if you don’t give me what I need.”

10 minutes later they said I would be going to a clinic for help. 

Carrie was my social worker at St Joe’s. She got me back on my feet after this “retard” fell into the abyss on a piece of string that was about to break and I would no longer exist, well physically I would be 6 feet under, and mentally I would be in the minds of some. But I would have killed myself, because I couldn’t take the negativity of this world anymore.

I couldn’t handle my home life.
I couldn’t handle people trying to kill me that weren’t there.

I couldn’t handle the image of a small girl who I had to treat that changed my view on the world forever 3 weeks into my deployment.

I started therapy. I cried. I laughed. I remembered things I couldn’t when I tried before. I was able to sleep again, and dream. 

Dreams, I hadn’t had dreams since mid Afghanistan, 2011. It’s 2015. Now I do a few times a week, and no matter if its good or bad, its a dream that I remember and love it.

It’s a big big world, and there’s people out there who do want to kill me, and hurt me. I’ve excepted that, because there’s people I want to hurt and kill too.

I’d rather help people though, and tell them it will be alright. 

Because…. I am alright. And I am better. Not %100, and there’s things I need to work on, “kinks” as my wife said to me the other night. And I will get those kinks worked out. 

I’m not living in fear anymore, thank you Jim for pushing my mind and body to be where I have gotten. 

The biggest supporter of me is myself.

The best supporter is my wife, she’s been through all my ups and downs, and I can’t say I am sorry because without those, I wouldn’t be OK. 

I would be stuck in Afghanistan, with Stan trying to kill me and whoever is with me. 
–Fuck you Stan, fuck you!!!! You can stay in your hell hole of a country and leave me alone now. You can’t hurt me any longer. I don’t have room for you in my head, and whenever you pop up Mr. Stan, I’m gonna put you down like the 300m targets this Combat Medic can hit. I can save a life, but I can take one just as easily. You can’t hurt me anymore, you just can’t.

Get help if you need it, I almost ended my life a few times, that my wife doesn’t even know about. I’m glad I did not, and will not.

So you wanna know what the mind of a soldier is who was told there is a bounty out on your head? It’s horrible. But I feel free today. And look forward to living life again. 

I won’t say I’m sorry for not being around, and declining invites from friends and family. I just couldn’t do it, but I promise myself I will do my best not to be that person anymore. And if its a bad day I will let that person know, because sadly I will always have Stan in my head. 

Stan doesn’t scare me now. I will scare him if it comes down to it. Because me, I’m going home. I will always make it home.

__________________________

Notice: 

I am deep in the bowels of a psychiatric treatment facility – probably in a straight jacket by now. This is scheduled post – if this had been an actual post you would receive instructions to shelter in place.

  

D-Day!

  
Today I check-in! 

Today I’m checking myself in to a 4-6 week depression treatment facility 12 hours from my home. 

I’m still about an hour and a half away from my destination in the Lone Star State and just stopped for my first ever Starbucks Pumpkin Spice Latte! That’s right first ever! 

  

I saw the taco billboard this morning and tried to get a good picture (at 75mph). The sign is self explanatory, but perhaps it will become a theme for Tuesday!?!? 

You know, sometimes your in a whiskey state of mind, or wasting away in margaritaville. I’m thinking something like – what’s in your TACO Tuesday? Because I definitely Taco my Tuesdays!!! 

Since I’ve been driving for 2 days, my Taco Tuesday is filled with thoughts. It’s weird driving to a mental health facility to check yourself in (fairly rhetorical statement I know). I wonder if the guy sitting next to me at Starbucks would have his back to me if he knew? Lol
Anyway, sort of nervous at the anticipation of the unknown and the hard work ahead. I’ve been looking forward to going, but now that it’s close, I’d rather just go back to the Hooters I was at last night. I felt sufficiently happy there. And I really was working hard at drinking beer, eating hot wings and chatting up the servers. Best work I’ve done in a while!!! 

I had a great seat at the bar, right next to the place the servers come to pick up drinks for their tables. So I got all the servers names and joked with all of them. 

For instance, I gave Sara a hard time (in a joking way) because she took a guy a Blue Moon with no orange slice (abomination right!?) She looked at me like, “oh crap you’re right,” then said, “well it’s his third one so I can’t start now.”

Hahahahha

Fellow bloggers and … friends, I will see you again in 4-6 weeks. 

Prayers appreciated!

Grace and Peace,

Chris – signing off the net

Depression Update: Change is Good, SOMETIMES!

I have had a couple of interesting days in therapy recently. 

I’ve been struggling with depression for about 4 years (diagnosed major depression three years ago) and have been pretty  consistently blah the entire time.

I’m 46, gradutated college with honors from a top 10 University, have over 120 credit hour of graduate coursework with close to a 4.0, I’m a military officer, and most people think I’m enthusiastic and extorverted. 

I say this to dissuade readers who might think I must be lazy, or unintelligent, or uneducated, or just a depressing person. All these are stereotypes I used to have about depression and depressed people.

I’ve learned a lot in the last few years. One highlight is that getting unstuck from depression is sort of like cleaning the mud off your shoes with a hose while standing in the middle of the pigpen. Lift one foot up, put the other down while the hose keeps adding more mud! What are you going to do, sit down and lift both feet up?

It’s just a constant cycle with so many agrivating factors that it is difficult to break out of. Depression causes relationship problems and slipping performance at work. These in turn add stress that increase depression. 

For the longest time I was legitimately trying to figure out if my depression was causing marital issues or marital issues where aggravating my depression. Finally, after literally 2 years, I figured out the answer is YES. 

They aggravate each other! This might be obvious to you, but with diminished cognitive ability combined with seeing things through the distorted lens of depression, it took me a long time to figure out. 

I think I mentioned before in my blog that the first time I talked to a psychiatrist 3 years ago, he told me I needed to take a year off and lay on the beach.

Well for a couple of years now I’ve been seeing a second therapist every couple of weeks in addition to a psychiatrist for meds. I’m on mythird  therapist now. This is somewhat frustrating as it takes a little time to build up raport and trust. I’m somewhat guarded at times and like to see how a person is going to react before I just throw out my whole story. Plus, I know it takes the therapist some time to digest and make an assessment.

The first guy I didn’t like very much – I just thought he wasnt very helpful for me. He seemed like perhaps his life was just as confused as mine and perhaps he had his own struggles he was dealing with. A military move forced that change which I was fine with.

The next guy was OK. He was an older man about 60 or more I’d guess. Very kind and compassionate and interesteing to talk to. He had to drop all patients to take on a new project (this is the glory of govt controlled healthcare in the Army – take notes it’s coming to a clinic near you!!). So I can’t see him any more. I see now that we didn’t make much progress in 7 months. 

My new therapist is a 30 something woman and also a military officer. This is the first active duty Army officer I have talked to as a therapist (they all work for the military, but many are civilians). 

I’ve seen her twice now and boy is she sharp!! She has been asking some really hard questions already and has immediately offered some treatment options which had never been proposed before. 

So as I said, sometimes change is good.

What I’m learning:

I’m learning patience even as I’m growing more impatient.

I’m trusting God more and myself less.

I’m learning my wife is willing to put up with a lot and stick with me. This is comforting despite our problems. 

Thank You For Your Service, but Please Don’t Stand Alone!

Today I attended a ceremony for Soldiers who have finished their military service and are retiring from active duty. For most, this means over 20 years of service and multiple overseas/combat assignments. 

It’s a hard life. 

Some retirees had family with them. Some had parents, some their spouse and children. Two of the most senior ranked Soldiers stood alone and neither wore a wedding ring. Maybe there was a large party waiting at home, I don’t know their individual circumstance, but I was sad for them. I know so many who have sacrificed family for career and promotion. 
The friend I supported today had about 10 family members including his wife, children and parents. I know he is a man of strong faith. 

This is what I wrote to him after:

You are a blessed man!!! Amongst all the retirees you had by far the largest group of family and supporters! Way to end it well! 

Lesson to us all – if there is no one to stand with me at the end of my career, I have done it wrong!! 

Serve well, but please don’t stand alone!! 

Marriage Counseling Update 8/21/15

My wife, Marie, and I have been seeing a marriage therapist this summer. I won’t link them all, but you can find notes from previous sessions in my archives – here is the last update which likely links to previous ones from there.

I just want to say that though there was some initial fruit, I feel like we have now fizzled out with this marriage therapist. Our first few sessions were good. We had some homework which was productive and created some dialogue. This was hard work for a few weeks, and we really hashed through some things together. But the last two meetings have been much less productive.

The therapist starts out, “What can I help you with today?”

Me, “You know, we have been communicating better together, and have kept up daily times to talk together agreed to early on. We are working together and amicable, but are just still kind of blah. Like we are existing together, but just as friends, or neighbors. We are lacking intimacy. Not just sex, but a closeness we used to have.”

Marie, “Chris asked if I wanted to talk to you about our lack of sex, but I don’t feel comfortable.” [Note: it is me who is not that interested in sex – for a few years now]

Therapist, “Well I won’t ask you about this if you are not comfortable.”

Me, “I have no issues talking about it from my perspective, and have discussed it openly with other doctors.”

Therapist, “But if Marie is not comfortable talking about it here, then i don’t want to either.”

Long pause

Therapist, “So what can I help you with today.”

I repeated my opening, which was, “There is not just one thing we are struggling with, but it’s our general lack of closeness.”

Therapist, “What would you like to discuss.”

Thinking to myself, “Uh, I think I’ve told you twice now.” 20 minutes of small talk later and I ended it, “Well I guess we don’t have much to talk about today and I’m sure you have other people to see.”

The last two sessions went like this.

To our therapist: YOU are the one with the PhD – you tell us what we are going to talk about. I have given you the issue. We made LISTS of stuff in our marriage that is wrong, that is right, that would be ideal. Lead us. Please, lead us.

To my wife: There is a stinking pile of shit in the middle of the room, when can we speak out loud about it? I know counseling is hard and some weeks we have other things on our mind, but I think it’s time to pull out those lists and actually talk about issues.

Fellow bloggers and marriage enthusiasts : What am I missing? Is it good enough to exist and get along in a marriage? Is it too much to ask for some help to try and renew some vigor and vivacity?

What am I learning?

1. Therapy is a lot of work – the hardest work has to come from outside the therapist’s office.
2. We need to continue to make time for “home therapy” to discuss issues safely with one another.
3. Therapists are people too – imperfect.