Living with PTSD and TBI

Room to Breathe

2012-02-14T17:11:00.000-08:00

Wow, I am really falling behind these days! Where is the time going? With doctor's appointments and such, its been hectic, extremely tiresome and well me? I am just all over the place! Seems like things are piling high on my desk, my email accounts and my two Facebook accounts. Things have been really hard here at home. Some of it, I can honestly say, I have had my buttons pushed to the limit with my husband. I don't know why I am really surprised...this comes every year at this time. I try not to engage in a battle because I know no matter what, I always seem to lose out and always am to blame for all that goes wrong. I haven't been doing good health wise, so that has played heavily not only on my mental health but physical health for sure! I think most of all...I am still hurt over words that he has said and it dawned on me that over the past five years? I haven't forgotten much of what he has yelled at me. I don't think I have ever forgiven him either.

This last argument in the past couple of times, I laid it all out there and more than likely hurt him too. For that, I feel ashamed but not sorry for what I said. I was always raised on "careful what you wish for" and " Watch your words cause one day you might just have to eat them". I said things I shouldn't have but so did he and his words hurt much worse. I thought I would feel better but the good person inside me feels shame and no better than before. A person can only take so much and I think after five years, I was long over due for a complete melt down. I have cried and cried for the past four days. I didn't realize until they started, how long it had been since I have broken down.

I feel restless although I have so much to do. I just can't seem to get motivated to do much of it because most of it is for him and I am angry and hurt. I want to buck against him and therefore not do a damn thing. I am really exhausted but can't seem to get enough sleep. Doctor says its because I am still healing from major surgery and just haven't had the down time I needed to recuperate. I know much of it has been stress and his attitude towards me. I have been trying to take it easy and make myself slow down, but its hard when you are on your own and a family to depend on you with no help. I know much of it is because the months of Oct-Feb are bad for my husband and I know by now my heart should be hardened enough to know better than to expect any emotional response...so why is it I am so damn hurt? All we have done is argue and I am sick of it. I hate the snide remarks, the dirty looks and I swear some days it looks like he gives me looks like I disgust him. That part bothers me the most. I can reach for the stars for him, I can try to fight as far as I can go...but I know one thing I can't do is win him back. I think really, for the first time, the last three weeks has resulted in this Mistress feeling defeated.

I feel like a voyeur going to Walmart and watching a couple hold hands, or a family passing by with the dad and his son on top of his shoulders shouting out or smiling. I admit that sometimes to ease the loneliness that I window ship for normalcy. I hate taking my children with me because my smaller ones always stare at such things especially when the daddies are doing things with their kids. I hate the question "Mommy, how come daddy didn't come?" or worse yet "Why doesn't daddy do that with me?". There isn't an answer out there that a five or three year old could understand.

This Valentine's Day is pretty much like every other one since he has been home, but I realized a few years ago I really sort of hated this over rated holiday and never expect anything or have anything planned. Yesterday though, it somewhat bothered me about this stupid Cupid crap when I was coming back from the doctor's and got behind a couple who were kissing at the red light. It was such a silly thing, but I started to cry because I couldn't remember the last time my husband had really kissed me like that. It seriously was one of those moments that normally I would think in my head "jeez get a room people" but I so envied the both of them. I cried all the way home and then chided myself because dammit, I am stronger than this! I guess a part of me is just all over the place. I am in pieces, trying to patch up what's left and still searching for parts I can't find. I just feel like I have no purpose and damn, I am really really lonely.

Late last night, after a bad day at the doctor's, the ride home riddled tears and old memories, my husband came in and handed me a new pair of really nice pajamas. I was kind of surprised because he hasn't said much but I guess he knew since my surgery, some of my nicer pairs got ruined. He was so worried they wouldn't fit or he bought the wrong size, holding them up against me and fiddling with them while muttering he could take them back if they didn't fit. It was almost like a kid trying to explain to the teacher why and how his dog supposedly ate his homework. I wanted so badly to throw my arms around him and say its all right, all is forgiven. I teared up though because I guess he really did listen to me when I sat down and cried because my stitches and staples had opened causing me to bleed profusely, ruining my favorite jammies. It wasn't candy, flowers, diamonds or anything romantic...but it made me feel like he cared a little and in some small way, it was probably his way of saying I am really sorry.

So why didn't I throw my arms around him? I really don't know the answer to that. I could have and should have done a million things but it caught me off guard. Earlier he wouldn't even look at me. Now I wish I could have that moment back again because maybe he needed that. Maybe I needed that. It makes me literally sick to my stomach to fight and argue with him, makes me feel out of whack when he isn't talking to me or I to him. Foolish we are and what a waste of three weeks that can never be gained back. Words said I am afraid I can't forgive him for or ever forget. I am trying though and trying to be understanding of what he is going through this time of year, but damn its hard. I do worry though that one day he will tear me apart and I won't be able to pick up the pieces and move on. I think I am at the point now, I am not sure where our relationship stands as a husband and wife, or hell, if he even loves me at all.

We've come so far, and lord knows we have fought it all the way....but here this year already its starting all over again and I swear, I just don't think I have any more in me to fight. I am so lost and confused in much of this PEB stuff and then Social Security sent us a lovely Valentine's day letter of denial again. Not that it wasn't expected, but never the less, a surprise to someone who just can't seem to fully understand how the system works (my husband). I worry more, that he blames me because I am the one doing all the paperwork. He seems to blame me for a lot these days and that's what bothers me the most. I am questioning myself and second guessing my moves on this chessboard of life we are playing with the military and the VA. It's a shame any of us have to be in this position.

I need to get with friends, well...actually make some friends. I think if I had people I could physically visit and talk to, I could rebuild my strength. I snickered to myself thinking I should write up a want ad for friends on Craig's list or the local paper. Imagine the weirdos that probably would answer! It's not that I don't have online friends, I have many and ones who care...but they are so far away. Many of you readers email all the time but its just not the same is it? It's different when you get be in someone's company and laugh, rather than typing messages out on forums, emails or facebook.

I am hoping that things will smooth out and I can get back on track. Just seems overwhelming right now and no one really understands. I will be glad when all this military stuff is done and over with, because at least that will be one less fight to worry about. Am trying to step back a little and give myself some place to breathe and allow myself to cry.....I figure that's the first place to start. Hoping this finds all of you hugging one another on this Valentine's Day night...if not, well count me as your Valentine's and sending lots of love and hugs to each of you.

Really Missing My Old Self,

Confession of a Serial Second Chancer

2012-02-01T06:55:00.000-08:00

As I have been sorting emails and trying to play catch up on some forums, chat boards, Facebook pages and the many other groups I belong to.....the one thing I noticed was that it seems the PTSD Beast is rearing its ugly head all over the U.S as of late. In some sick twisted way, this made me feel better mostly because it meant I am not so alone. It is something that occurs this time of year; some experts claiming its the post holiday blues, the change of the weather, the winds or the tides, chemicals in the water, too many acids in our foods, or some other psychobabble crap they spin. Either way, most of us spouses find that we are trying to keep up with the incoming changes that are bombarding our homes. The invasion often leads to nasty arguments, things said meant or not, then leaving most of us scratching our heads wondering what the hell we did to get all the blame when we were really not at fault.

The past few days here have been really rough. Started with one little thing and before I knew it, it became out of control with curse words, left field accusations, paranoia mixing in with severe delusional thoughts. If my husband had said Elvis was conspiring to take him back to his home planet and a purple monkey was standing at his side....I don't believe I could have been any more shocked than some of the things he said. When he gets like this, there is no way to "redirect his attention and focus" which is a common statement you will see and hear in many books and classes on PTSD and TBI. I have often wondered about those who constantly shove that crap in our faces, if they have actually had to use this technique while being in a stand down with a full blown episode/spell. I really don't think they have and most of them are just out of college, still thumbing through the psychiatric DMV book as they are telling us this. From experience, watching him and knowing how things go....much of his explosions are linked to upcoming stressful events that we are dealing with. It becomes a show down in the house meeting at high noon. Him with the loaded pistol of verbal garbage and crap I have no idea where it comes from and me standing with my eyes closed waiting for the bullet to hit home because I know fighting and arguing back makes it worse.

Just when you think you have everything in routine, paranoid thoughts and delusions somewhat already used to, they begin to change leaving me at least, not understanding or not knowing what the hell to do. In my last post, I mentioned the LT Col who told me I wasn't trying enough and how it made me cry because I couldn't believe someone had the gall to sit there and judge me without knowing the whole story. After the last couple of days? I really would love to tell her what I think of her and where she could shove her bubble gum machine training she received and offer her to pick up the work that I have done. I wonder if I showed up one day and dropped my husband off at her door and said "Here ya go. You know so much and obviously have it all figured out. You deal with him." what would she do? Bet her almighty tone of voice would drop, and she would sing a different tune then.

Still fuming on her words, dealing with all that I have this week with my husband, and reading yesterday of all the other women still picking up the pieces in their home and minds...it made me stop and think about second chances. My mother was a "stand by your man" Southern belle, with a backbone made of steel and a sense of humor that always broke the enormous chunk of silence that would follow a bad argument. My father was no saint and there are still things I am learning about my mom even now after seven years of her being gone. Some days, in my mind, I talk with her and I want so badly to ask her how the hell did she do it? How did she take care of us kids, my father and still maintain happiness and strength? Was my mama truly happy and fulfilled?

I receive emails all the time from spouses asking me what they should do. Stay or leave? Stick it out or file for divorce? Moms asking what they did so wrong. Fathers who can't figure out what they did to get the foul mouthed, yelling screaming son/daughter they are taking care of. I get daily veterans asking me why their wives can't get "it". The truth of the matter is that I can't answer a single one of these questions because like most of you....I am still trying to find my way just like so many of you. This past few days have really made me evaluate a huge part of my life and all that is lost. It's a constant pattern. His fuse gets lit, it begins to slowly crawl towards ignition, then KABOOM there we go. Sometimes it takes a while, sometimes it so sudden you don't even have time to duck and find cover. He just doesn't yell, throw things or scream at the top of the lungs but rather, he goes for the jugular. The beast finds and recognizes every single weakness you have as a person. It is somewhat fascinating because the intellectual person I am, I wonder how it is that my husband can remember such weakenesses and knows where to ambush me where it's going to cut to the core. He doesn't blow up so it's sudden death to the opponent...he wants you to suffer long and make the pain last. Yet, he can't remember to take his medicines, remember what happened during a short conversation on the phone, keep track of time or remember what you said five minutes ago.

After it all goes down, there is anger, sincere and bone deep hurt on my part coupled with a silent scream that just builds and builds. Confusion sets in, questions begin whether I did something or not....and I really have nothing to say to him for a long time. After his blow ups, he acts as if nothing happened and "forgets". When he thinks I am going to surely walk out the door...he says "I'm sorry I vented". Vented? Venting is getting upset and fussing about something in particular. We have the C&P tomorrow for re-evaluation. Yelling at me about that would not have bothered me at all or even bringing it up in the conversation would have made my mind say "He is just scared and worried about this event coming up". Screaming at me and telling me how much he hates me....is another story. Hate is a strong word and I can't remember ever in the almost 13 years we have been together, that I have ever said I hated him. That word just isn't in my vocabulary nor would it be something I would say to someone I love. I hate brussell sprouts, water chestnuts and jello still bothers me to this day...but hating a loved one? No. I have been through so much in my life that I know that life is precious and we have to remember that some things said...we could never ever take back. That was one of those times.The apology he gave me was back handed, half assed but I guess an apology overall because he knew it was what he thought I needed to hear.

I sat yesterday and read all these emails and comments on boards and wondered when do we as the Caregiver and Spouse, give too many second chances? Second chance means just that. One time we overlook something bad, we forgive, we try to forget and move on. We give that person a one time, get out of jail for free card and a chance to redeem themselves. I was raised with the Christian thought of giving, charity, love and being kind to others and that everyone deserves a second chance. As a self revelation yesterday, I realized how many second chances I had given my husband. I lost count, couldn't even think of all the times he had been so mean, nasty, low, cut to the bone hurtful, crude and hateful and yet....I gave him another second chance. I then thought to myself when my sense of humor kicked in that I have now become the "Serial Second Chance" spouse. I can no longer blame PTSD or TBI for his repetitive problems...I can now only say to myself...you gave him too many chances.

Do we give second chances because we know they aren't well and have serious problems? Or are we just allowing them to continue to think that we will always be there to take it and say "aw honey, it's ok. I know you are upset about this or that". If my children had thrown such a fit I would have done a time out, grounded them from something to show I was serious or busted their bottoms. When it comes to care giving for a loved one, how do we draw the boundaries? How do we give them a time out? I love my husband dearly and in sickness and in health I took my vows seriously, but I have to say sometimes my biggest fantasy includes a one way ticket to anywhere and the opportunity to allow myself a second chance. I think what hurts the most is knowing that my husband hates me and tells me so all the time when he is angry. I used to chalk it up to just being angry and the garbage disposal in his mouth and mind was working overtime, but now I am starting to wonder if its the truth. If so, I can't think of a reason why he would hate me so much. Looking back over the years, I can't think of anything I have ever done to hurt him, been dishonest, not been there for him, or anything that could give a such a word to throw at me.

At what point in our lives, do we just say screw it and no more second chances? I wonder why I am trying so hard to keep my family intact all while I am slowly breaking apart, when he won't even give .0005% of trying at all. I shook my head sadly yesterday while I read all these stories, comments and other issues that spouses are dealing with ending with "I feel so alone". No one is alone but I can relate. I know of one spouse in my entire area and there are more than 12,000 of us here. I really wish we could just gather us all up and meet in one location so we could look around and just see. Maybe it would give us strength, courage and the will to keep going. There is always that saying that "Misery Loves Company" but hell in our case, I think we need that company.

I think the biggest thought this week rolling around in my head is, I wonder if my husband would have taken all this crap if the rolls had been reversed. What if the caregivers were the ones who came home like this? Would we have been given any second chances, or would we have seen them walk out the door? I think in my case.....the answer would be no. So I can't help but wonder why I am trying so hard when he isn't?

Blaming my Mood on the Preservatives in My Loaf of Bread,

Playing Catch Up

2012-01-30T05:47:00.000-08:00

Where did the first part of the year go? Seems like I have been away forever....for that, I apologize. We have had a lot to deal with here and well, I just couldn't and didn't want to write. The blogging always gave me strength, encouragement and a safe place to say what was on my mind. Why I mentally shoved this away when I desperately needed it the most, is beyond me. It's been a little stressful here. Well ok, I admit....a LOT of stress going on. Husband isn't doing too good although I am trying as hard as I can to hold it all together. Seems like since New Year's rolled around, he has done nothing but intentionally start things like arguments, getting into trouble, and just being mean and nasty. The PTSD beast has not only arisen but seeming to be a house guest that is staying and we all hate.

A lot was supposed to happen during this month and I will try to play catch up with you all. For many of you, you all know its been hard to get to the point to ask for medical board. When we finally got the records in, papers filled out etc etc....we thought we, meaning I, could sit back and take a breathe. Instead, they have called and said now I must report with him in three months for seven to ten days for evaluation. I am struggling here this week because so much has been going on, now I must worry about my three children for that time period. The Lt Col that called us was rude, condescending about my husband's problems, and sincerely acted like a Miss Know it All when it came to my life and our life as a family. I was given the spiel of "well put an ad in the paper to bring someone in for those days and pay them well". Ok, I get her point on not having friends or family but do we really need to bring a stranger in our home and hope like hell they don't rob us blind, abuse my kids, or just do whatever? She acted like I should have forced my husband into making friends, bringing them over, and sponsoring play dates with other families so I would have someone to fall back on to when I needed them.

First off, my husband doesn't even like our only friend here or even his mother in the home. He considers it invasive as if they were complete strangers. His paranoia has increased over the past few months and he freaks out when we have to do the mandatory home checks required by the VA caregiver program. All I could do was to listen to this woman who knew it all, and tears fell silently. I guess it was a strong reminder of how lonely I really am here. A reminder that our friends just turned their backs on us here. God, what I wouldn't give to be able to get out and have friends. No one understands us and damn sure, wouldn't leave their kids here. My husband barely tolerates our children let alone someone else bringing theirs in. Hearing her voice in my ear telling me how I should be living my life just seemed so far away. I stood outside listening to her go on an on and all I could do was cry. If she only knew how hard it was........

On top of all this, we got the letter we anticipated stating that the VA requests a reevaluation for C&P which terrifies me to be honest with you. We knew his 100% was temporary, but we have always had such bad luck I can't help but wonder what we will do if they drop his percentage. I don't and can't think of a reason why they would but you always hear the horror stories. This as of now, is our main source of income and our only way to survive. If they drop it or reduce it, that is the end of us. Sounds melodramatic but its the truth. We can pay our bills, but can't purchase medications, pay co-payments on doctors bills nor could we buy groceries. If we had to cut things, it would be television, cell phones etc, and possibly repossession of our vehicle. Major items like having a cell phone is vital for us since we have to talk to so many people like our recovery coordinators so this worries me. I know we could appeal and honestly, I know I shouldn't worry but hell, you never know. This is our whole life as a family in one piece of paper and a stranger who doesn't know what all is going on. I don't even know if they will listen to me for a minute and let them know he thinks all these crazy things. Hell, I don't even know if that doctor will listen to him! It's on Thursday and I am scared. I don't have a back up plan and no safety net. More than anything, I feel like if something happens....its going to be blamed on me like everything else has.

Since the letters and the calls, my husband has been on a see saw of emotions and taking it out on me.

Last week I had the first of my surgeries and he stayed with me through the surgery. Once out of recovery, he left. Although I told him to go on home and didn't want the family to stay any longer than they had to...I guess the romantic heart of mine wanted him to say "I will be here for as long as you need me". I was scared. One of the infamous Mistress's weakness is hospitals, needles and any pain. Yes, I am a wuss. Not sure where it stems from, but anytime they put you to sleep it does somewhat cross your mind all the what if's and the pain, well I just have this fear. I only had to stay overnight so no big deal but I never got a call from my husband, no text message, no calls to the nurse on the floor to check on me. I have to say my mind says I shouldn't have expected all this but my heart still couldn't help but wish.

After a rotten night's sleep, my husband and family came and picked me up. He was so nasty to me rearing that ugly PTSD monster so badly that the RN discharging me was concerned about letting me go. I don't know if my husband just got scared, or it was too much stress on him having his mom there for him and my kids or just if he needed to vent. I don't know what happened to me that day, but readers, a part of me just shattered. I won't go into detailed surgery talk, but I had my breasts operated on due to blockages, a mass, and possible cancer. Rather than chance losing them both, I opted to have them operate which took me from a busty size down to a small B cup ensuring all the bad tissue and vein blockage would be gone. Being the boob man my husband is, he yelled and screamed at me. He was so bad, all I could do was sob hysterically. It was bad enough I had a doctor that should be someone's grandfather and didn't believe in pain medication, so therefore I had to suffer through the enormous pain and shock of the whole ordeal. The doctor said women were too weak and many centuries they used no pain meds, take some tylenol. I would seriously love to have his penis removed, sliced open, parts taken off, then reattached and let's see how he feels.

So for two weeks I am not supposed to move, drive, move around and just rest. I had the weekend with my mother in law and after that, my husband wouldn't help me at all. I know he is not capable, I know my mind is fully in the understanding that he just isn't "there" but damn...I so wanted to be taken care of and just well....helped and be taken care of like I have done for him. Since last week, its been fighting, arguing, accusations that come out of left field, paranoia kicking in to bring up things that don't exist and just heartbreak. I couldn't even have time to sleep a little. He let me down and for the first time....I wondered if this pod person loves me at all or is he just completely gone all together?

I kept thinking to myself while I sat there and watched him frothing at the mouth screaming and yelling, why should I care so much about someone who hates me so badly? No matter how much I do...no matter how much I fight...I realized then for the first time......he will never try half as much as I do. I felt the scream building inside, and I felt like I was kicked in the gut. The mental pain overshadowed the physical and I just felt like giving up. I didn't understand why he was so angry with me when it was nothing I had done. Why I deserved to be treated so poorly when all I have done is tackle the world and done everything but rope the moon for him. He couldn't even say I'm sorry.

I am trying so hard and just once...I want to not worry about things. At this point, still no Social Security, we have no Veterans Service help and I have no clue what I am doing. It feels the world is sitting on me right now and its not helping when he looks to me for all the answers. I just wonder though, is how long will he continuously blame me for all that goes wrong or how long I will be blamed for things he thinks in his head and not responsible for? I thought I had become numb enough not to care anymore but its apparently not numb enough yet.

So we will wait and see what happens this week. All I can do is pray, hope and ask God to give me a little bit of break. I do wish though, that people that work on the other side and are nasty...could just have a little bit of sympathy, empathy anything. They should be so lucky they can have normal lives. They should be thankful they are blessed that they are not weary and worried. Somehow though, I think no one really cares. Most of all, I really wish people who don't know me, would stop telling me I am not trying because God knows I haven't given up for five years and all I do is bust my ass researching, writing, phone calls and finding reasons every day for my husband that gives him reasons to keep going. I wish they could have 24 hours of my life and see how hard it is for families like us to struggle to keep finding ways to "try".

I will try to catch up on emails and such...I am way behind and for that I am sorry. Thank you to all who sent messages and well wishes in my absence. I am indebted to you all for making me feel like I counted and my absence was noticed. Trying to keep my chin up here and will write more I promise.

No Rest for the Weary,

The End of Old and The Beginnings of the New

2012-01-04T05:54:00.000-08:00

First, I want to apologize for lagging a bit the past few weeks. I think mentally and physically, I needed a break and reduce some of the stress. It was rush rush all through the holiday season and man, did it not go by extremely fast? With two sick little ones through Christmas break and with my having pneumonia, just seemed like my world was starting to crack a little. My husband did really well through Christmas and for the first time in a very very long time, we didn't have to go anywhere on Christmas Day. I think that fact was the greatest gift because we got up as we pleased, ahem, when the kids chose to get us up; we stayed in our pajamas all day, rested and napped, and just played with toys. It was one of the most memorable Christmases in the Mistress's Book of Good. After that though, not sure what all happened. Seemed Christmas was over and done with, the stress had left me rung out and extremely tired and my husband? Well, he just started to egg on arguments, as if he was just looking for a fight.

After careful thinking and my constant strategic dodging of the PTSD bomb, I realized that much of this had to be because a close friend was back from deployment. When we got the call, we were both excited because we wanted him to come home safe of course! However, a part of me wondered a million thoughts. Will his family become like ours? Will his children fall to the way side of attention and fatherly love? Will his wife have to constantly follow behind to pick up all the broken bits? My husband mentioned to me that his friend was having adjustment issues since being home, which for all of us who are Reserve and National Guard, is another component we must battle. I had to ask my husband how his friend fared which got me the shrug and a "I told him to get into the VA system as fast as he can". Since his friend has been home, my husband has been visiting quite a bit which I thought was good. Now I am not so sure. His mood has taken a drastic turn, a bit on the melancholy side and well, he just seems so far away.

Arguments have been had and some nasty things have been said. Things he could probably never take back or say "I'm sorry for". I thought for a while there that possibly he was angry because his friend wasn't so messed up when he landed. Maybe its because he isn't disabled to the point like my husband is. Maybe it's a lot of things but right now? All I know is the last few weeks have sucked every ounce of energy that I had in me. The kids had a great Christmas or as my five year old said "Best Christmas EVER!" and I am super blessed that it wasn't the Apocalypse that it normally has been the past four we have had.

New Year's Eve drew up with my husband wanting to go fishing with some of his buddies from the Project Healing Waters Fly Fishing group, in which I figured might be nice for him to get out. We have been sort of cooped up with the kids the past three weeks of Christmas break, or rather I have......but it was easier to say it was alright with me than say absolutely not! It's New Year's Eve! I figured we never do much anyway but, he will be home later that afternoon. He never showed up. Never called. He just left me here with the kids wondering all sorts of possibilities. He told me earlier that day he would be home sometime that afternoon, so I waited only to have him never come home. 7 p.m. rolled around and he called to say he was running by his recently returned friend's house to look at his tile that he had just laid down in the bathroom. I must admit I was angry as he kind of left me hanging as far as supper went and the kids. I know there are a lot of questions that children ask that stump us parents or put us in the Hall of Shame. Ones that pertain to "Mommy, where's daddy?" always seem to haunt me. My husband told me that he would be home shortly and so I told him that was fine not wanting to start a fight.

Never called again and didn't show up.

At 10:30, I called him to let him know I would be taking my bath and just head on to bed. He acted so cold to me that I could feel the chill through the phone. He explained that he needed to talk to someone who understood...someone who had been there and done that. He just had so much to be stressed about and of course, this is the anniversary coming up of his suicide attempt. He was under so much stress and well, he just needed to be there.

I have to be honest. I was hurt. Extremely hurt. I know, I know...many of the Veterans will side with my husband and say that is where he needed to be but a part of me wanted him here. To bring in the New Year and be together. Maybe that is selfish and perhaps in the long run, that is where he needed to be. I didn't understand what he had to be stressed out about? I didn't understand why he could go there and talk to a friend who supposedly listened, when I have never not been there for him. It seems that has been my whole life these past four years, putting him in the center of the world. Listening to every word, even the rambling ones, trying to hold it all together....all for him. It was a slap in the face to me. I know there are times when they do need someone who has been there and done that, but this was a different deployment for our friend....one that differed so much that there is no comparing war scars. I can't seem to wrap my mind around why I got shoved to the back of the closet when all he had done all day, was fished with war veterans.

11:57 found this Mistress in bed crying awaiting the ball drop in NYC on the television. I sometimes say I feel like I am so lonely, and even with all of you readers and emails....that I have no friends. Never before in my life had I felt loneliness stab me so hard. It wasn't about the holiday so much as the symbolism. It wasn't about staying up and waiting for that clock to turn over to 2012, or having a party...nothing like that. It was just me wanting to lie with my husband in bed and forget the world for a little while. It was me wanting to have hope for the New Year....To forget about past arguments, and to let this year go and feel that closeness I had been missing the last few weeks. He left me here to await the New Year by myself with fears, worries and hurt feelings.

I have cushioned so much for him that I am becoming numb myself. I didn't understand what pressures or stress he had to deal with when all I had was upcoming stuff for him on me. His disability evaluation is coming up this month and we aren't sure of that at all. We were just told last January that his rating would be set at 100% temporary for one year with evaluation this January. We don't know how to survive if that falls apart and quite honestly, I don't know what to do to prevent any negative changes. Social Security appeal was filed with more paperwork coming over Christmas week that I must struggle with, and then upcoming surgeries in which I must figure out all the kids, dogs and husband in that. He had done nothing but fuss for two years about painting although he knew he couldn't climb a ladder to do it and neither could I since they are cathedral ceilings. A family programs person through the National Guard got us hooked up with a Church near by our home who are volunteering to come paint this weekend and get it all knocked out. With the kids going back to school, I must once again budget, pay bills and clean the house (like baseboards that are behind furniture so can be painted) and well, just a ton going on. Where he fits in, in all of this....I do not know nor can I count on his help.

I think a part of me just collapsed this New Year's and well, before Christmas. We haven't really spoken much to each other and neither one of us has addressed New Year's. I figured why bother? I am wasting my time and my breathe, only to have him give me a half ass sorry that he doesn't mean and he can't take it back or make up for it. He just didn't think enough of me to want to spend New Year's and that is a conclusion I have reached so far at the beginning of 2012. When I am sick, he runs away. When the kids are sick, like we have my little man with Mono, he is gone. When I really really need him to be here, I can count on one thing....him not being here. I am trying not to be so hard on myself, but it can't be helped. I keep wondering what I have done to make him push so hard against me. I keep praying for a little relief but I guess what I am asking for is my husband to come home to me back in 2007 normal and that's never going to happen. What is left is for me to do is to raise my children by myself and learn that I can't depend on anyone else but myself.

See? Even when I get emails from all of you...I tell you I don't have a perfect life. I always remind everyone that I don't have all the answers for anyone because I don't even know. All I know is it's one hell of a road we are traveling on and I keep hoping by raising the lantern, we can find our way. Sometimes these days though...I feel my lantern flickering out just a bit and wonder how much can I keep taking and how much longer can I keep going. I hope that doesn't disappoint anyone, its just the truth. I am a little lost myself right now.....

For all those who have commented and emailed, I will catch up. My little man has been on tons of steroids and God love him, he has been a monster on those meds! My pc has been acting up as well, so been working on having it fixed. I will catch up with everyone and respond to the emails. Looks like I wasn't the only one who had a bad end to the year of 2011! So this morning, I vote we raise our coffees, our juices, etc and wish each other a Very Happy New Year and hope like hell we can make it through another one......

Still holding on here in Moo-Cow Town USA,

All I Want For Christmas: Response to a Reader

2011-12-11T09:19:00.000-08:00

On my last post of More Than Just The Turkey Spared, there were a couple of comments from Veterans and a Spouse that really made me think on how I wanted to approach this next blog. I am going to answer the comment left by Red Cell and hopefully answer all the others in that same response.

His comment,"Where to start...I despise the holidays now. I cannot go shopping with my wife, for presents for our kids anymore. There is no way that I would be able to handle the crowds. I would get in a fight with someone else or ruin it by fighting with the wife. I cannot handle the crowds, I lose it". He went on to say "I have lost my relationships with my mom, my sister, and my step-mom. They choose to believe that PTSD is not real and I am just acting like an a**hole. They do not come around anymore. I was estranged from my mom for 3 years, that all changed when her dad died. Now we are trying to build a relationship that is full of misconceptions and anger. She doesn't understand she is a stressor, how do you tell her? How do you forgive things that happened? It is hard and all the demons from the past and the anger takes over. I have not seen nor talked to my sister in almost four years. She has no contact with my kids, unless they are on their two week visit to my mom's in the summer. The only thing I want for Christmas is to be my old self. I want to go back to Iraq and find the old me. Find where I died and this doppelganger was born. I want to find where I lost my love of life and where all this hate and discontent came from. I walk through each day not feeling or caring.I get out of bed and cannot wait until I can get back home, that is where I am truly safe. Where I don't have to worry about losing my mind. What is wrong with me? How do I fix it? That is what I want for Christmas. To be Normal."

There were several more in regards to family, holidays and many towards just surviving. Now in staying true to my self, I am going to be blunt and honest, with no professional advice of course, given. I think all of us have struggled and still continue to struggle with such issues with the holiday season. First, I would like to state that since reading your comments, especially RedCell's, my heart hurt and I wished I had all the answers. I really really do. I don't have all the answers as we are still seeking, searching, and learning every day like all of you. Red Cell, you know what is wrong with you and you have a loving family right behind you. You can lean on your wife for support, and she is there to hold your hand but she can't carry you. You have to be willing to fight back, and fight hard. Only you can do this, but it will take you and your family to stand tall, stand strong and stick together. The holidays are stressful for all of us so I understand where you are coming from not only as a family member but you sound so much like my husband. I have thought long and hard and here is what I came up with for you and you can take it or leave it, because I am just answering as a friend.

You need to let the past go with family. If they are stuck on believing what they want, there is nothing you can do to change that and you will only end up hurt more in the process. Why not this year, take some time off from worrying about what they think and just concentrate on your wife and children? Life is too short to worry about what happened in the past. Letting go is one of the hardest things to overcome but you will spend all your time trying to make up for things that just can't be done and all that rage on something that can't be changed. If you wish to rebuild your relationships, you are just going to have to say "Ok, I am going to let all this go and from this day on, never look back". I don't know much about your past, so its hard to give you an answer on this. I simply have come to the conclusion on some family members, that it's their loss. They are the ones missing out and that is their choice. Start by fixing your family in your home, then when you feel ready to tackle one more on the outside, then take baby steps. Maybe just pick up the phone and say hello. This way, at least YOU know you tried. Rather than waste time being angry at family, relish in the love of your children and your wife this holiday season. I know it hurts, and I have been there and definitely done that. In my opinion though, it just makes me love my immediate family that much more.In this world we all live in now, families included, we must take one day at a time and expect bad days to show up. We hope for better ones and hang on to those days like nobody's business! As a spouse, I am going to give you some ideas that I would think would help you out.

Know that everything this holiday season is going to include screw ups, arguments and bad days. That is normal and I am sure your wife knows this. However, there are some things you can do to deter this and pitch in. You might not be able to leave the house, or feel safe on the outside, but you are not dead or helpless and there are things you CAN do from your comfort zone. The one thing you need to start doing is to kick this PTSD in the ass by fighting back. Whether that be through more therapy, organizations that offer different activities to get you back in the real world, like Project Healing Waters, or just socializing with old friends by having them over to your home. Baby steps. Don't set expectations so high that you fall immediately but set small ones each day, on a goal list, and cross them off as you go.

I don't expect my husband to go shopping with me. Holy Hell, it's scary out there to me! I don't want to do it and often times, budgeting and spending money we can't afford, makes me stressed out. What do I want the most from my husband and this also came from many other wives....we just want you as the Veteran to acknowledge us and that we did do it all. Maybe a "Wow baby, I can't believe you did all this! You are amazing!" would be a huge step for you and your spouse. She would probably fall over in shock! You obviously know that she is doing a bulk of it and you recognize you are missing out. She is missing out too. Stop a minute to acknowledge her, darlin', and this will help relieve much of her stress and yours!

Ok, so you are missing the fun and joy of picking things out for your children by staying home and that I understand. However, why not order online and do the store pick up thing? Sit your wife down on a good day for you, and explain to her that you are missing out and would like to help her whether it just be pick something out by yourself or sitting side by side at the pc. You can still help shop, she can pick up and I bet you that taking the time out for her, and just sitting with her, would be a beautiful thing. It is also helping you because you are taking the initiative to do something, ergo fighting back. Have you really ever stopped to just talk with her like this comment you made to me? Often times, Veterans don't communicate very well and we often just know you guys are angry as hell. Maybe stopping her one evening when its quiet and say "I really want to help with the shopping, I want to do something. I just can't go out and it scares me. Is there something I can do by computer to help you or something around the house I can do to help you out?" The fact you are talking with her, sharing your feelings, and wanting to help will really help both of you.

Now, with the holidays the spouses are usually stressed out to the max. Not only are we dealing with our kids, family members, holiday expectations but we are also dealing with some Veterans who feel the way you do. Remember when Mama ain't happy, ain't nobody gonna be happy! Run that woman a hot bubble bath and light a candle, or put on some soft music! Shopping, wrapping and normal household duties are tiring and stressful. If you stopped while you are at the house and cleaned, picked up, started supper, and just pay attention to your wife...this would make her very happy and feel that she is getting some much deserved attention. No buts, no can'ts, no excuses....you can do this sort of thing if it only means unloading the dishwasher, or cleaning the toilet. You CAN do this and remember that somewhere between all this is going on with you, that often family members and spouses get left behind.

Take a second and do something from home for your family just to let them know you care. If your wife is cooking, offer to help whether it be peel potatoes, putting sprinkles on the cookies, or washing dishes whatever! Often times, the silence of my husband can be extremely hurtful and deafening. Sometimes, when he just comes in the kitchen and pulls up a chair and sits with me while I cook is the greatest sound I ever heard. It's those little things that remind me how much he loves me.

On those evenings when the home is stressful and you know your wife is gonna blow...pick up the phone and call in a pizza to have it delivered. Tell her that she is going to take a hot bath, you will watch the kids and that you have supper on the way. Let her know you want to help. Offer to get the young ones into bed, have your pizza together and play some cards.

So you can't leave the house but you got to start trying little things to get back out there. That's all there is to it. Most of us have Netflix or Blockbuster now, or there are those Red Boxes rental things all over the place. If you panic about going into crowded places, check out Red Box site and choose the one that is closest to you. Rent a sappy chic flic or something you know your wife will like. There are some good ones out there that both can enjoy. If you can make it to a rental store, go early on a Wednesday or Thursday when the store is less busier. Bring home a movie and snuggle in with her or one with your children.

Fix your wife a hot cup of cocoa with marshmallows, maybe even some extra ones, for no apparent reason at all. If nothing else, a hot cup of tea or some hot popped popcorn while watching the movies.

So you can't get out in the crazy world and shop, but I bet you CAN wrap presents! If your spouse has already bought, then share in the joys of wrapping those gifts for your children. Best wrapped gift I ever got was years ago when my husband used a pocket knife and duct tape. It meant the world to me because he tried, and that is all I ever asked for. Help her if you can't wrap, by handing her pieces of tape or putting the bow on top. You may despise the holidays, but try to remember that this is your inner demons coming out. Fight that by remembering that not everyone in your family does. Do this for them and for yourself. Taking on these small challenges for yourself to do for your family, is going to bring you that much closer to finding your old self.

For those asking about family and how to nicely tell them to back off, using swear words probably isn't the best way to handle these types of situations. Come on guys, ya'll ought to know your mamas ain't gonna take it lightly! Some suggestions from Facebook readers were to simply explain to them nicely but firmly, that you are starting your own family traditions. Others said they spread it out over the month and they found that its not so overwhelming. If your spouse is adamant about it, explain to her why they bother you so much and that you need some down time or an escape plan to go be by yourself. I think using honesty with your family members, even if it is hurtful or not what they want to hear, is always going to be the best way to go about it. Don't expect to be mean to your spouses, and then demand she explain to the rest of the family why you can't do the holidays. She is your biggest fan, and one that takes the most crap. You guys think you have it hard, but you have no clue how hard it is for us. I never understood why my husband could take on the bad guys in Iraq but couldn't talk to his mother. His explanation to me was "Well, we never used words with the bad guys". I get that, but I also know that this puts me in a very bad situation and predicament, as well as makes me look like the bad guy most of the time. There are going to be hurt feelings, but you have to do what you have to do to get through it and on your own terms. It wouldn't be any different than someone with say cancer, having a car wreck, or some other debilitating illness or disabilities that caused them to change and prevent them from entertaining and living up to family expectations. If they don't understand, well they just don't understand.

Lastly Red Cell, many Veterans feel the same way you do about going back over and trying to find where they "died", or where they left themselves behind. You aren't alone and often, many spouses wonder and feel the same way. Honey, I am going to be honest and say that if you left tomorrow and went back...I don't think you would find anything at all. I wish you could. I do know this, that there is not a day that goes by I don't see a small part of my husband's old self somewhere through the day. You are still in there, somewhere...but just a little lost. It's easy to get overwhelmed, lose patience with yourself and then give up. Only you can fight those demons and its going to take time, patience, and working at it through therapy and such. We know the VA sucks, but there are other places you can go like the Vet Centers, Give An Hour, and many others. You can use your health insurance and go out on your own. Continuous therapy, not just haphazard, here and there, therapy, is going to be a huge step and process for you. However, I think you can do it. The question really lies in this....are you willing to try and get your old self back? Don't put so much pressure on yourself for the holidays and set expectations that are reasonable. Communicate with your wife so she knows and can do the same. Try to remember that this Christmas and many more, your children will look back on and remember. Ask yourself is this how you want your children to remember? So when you feel upset, cornered, unsafe, take a second and look at your children...then breathe. Find somewhere to go in your home that you can take a minute to collect yourself, give your anger level a quick check and a minute to chill.

I hope this helps you some and the rest of you who are looking for some possible answers. I don't have them all but from hearing so many stories, questions, and emails....these answers are coming from both sides of the house. We all know the sacrifices that have been made, and that we will continue to fight the war here at home for a long time....but know that you are here, you are loved, and you are safe. Remember the real reasons behind the Christmas season, allow yourself to enjoy it, and for those who have children, relish these moments as they go by fast. Take a moment to believe in hope, love, family and faith. I hope that next year brings bigger and better things for all of us. Merry Christmas Red Cell...I hope this season finds you comfort, peace and sincere joy.

I Still Believe,

More than Just a Turkey Spared

2011-12-01T05:59:00.000-08:00

As the holiday season rapidly approaches us, I have seen an influx of emails in regards to Thanksgiving horror stories from the past and horrendous expectations for future ones. I have to admit, some of these really made me laugh out loud with you! I appreciate the humor you passed along with such bad stories! The one question remains evident in those emails is "How do you survive it all?". To be completely honest with you....beats the hell out of me! I thought hard about that question while many of you wondered from both sides of the house, how to survive family, high expectations, and immediate family disappointment. I always used to laugh because my mother would always drink eggnog before family came and of course, have several more afterward. As I became an adult, I figured out that the eggnog was spiked with her favorite liquor and that's probably how she made it through it. I guess a part of me has become remote from the holiday season, as if everything is done mechanically but not much heart into it, if that makes any sense at all. Sometimes I feel like I have become separated and doing things on habit, but not much spirit in me. Much of this is from past holiday horrors ourselves, and of course, our family's encounter with the Bottom Falling Out in January.

For the first time in four years, our family and myself was spared like the yearly Presidential pardoned turkey. I didn't have to cook this year which was nice for me since I haven't been feeling up to par. I have to say this was the first time in 29 years, that I haven't had to cook, wash dishes, worry my self senseless over good china being broken, a husband who is flipping out and of course....not having to make excuses, apologies or hang my head because he was so horrible. I like to think it was probably the latest addition of Xanex to my husband's medication repertoire that pardoned our family from the "Holiday Horrors", but he was pretty mellow before that too. We spent Thanksgiving Eve with our Project Healing Water friends who invited us to dinner, which was really awesome. It was nice to be around some great Veterans, listening to their versions of the VA, military stories and the laughter that erupted from the living room while us wives were getting supper ready. I enjoyed it most of all because I actually was socializing which is something I rarely get to do. In all, we had six kids running around loose which caused me to envision the Apocalypse coming, with only the baked ham and turkey surviving in that fallout, but to my surprise....all of the Veterans did rather well secluded together in the safety zone of the living room. Perhaps its because we all felt a common bond and as if we belonged together. It's odd that close friends have long come and gone, and somewhere along the line, we have lost our ability to feel normalcy with people we know that doesn't have a clue. However, put a bunch of veterans and families together, and it's like we have been friends all along.

On official Turkey Day, my mother in law had to work which was ok with us because we were wore out from the night before. So Thanksgiving dinner being prepared by her, was postponed until Saturday so we could ensure that my husband wasn't totally over doing it. Since both our friend's dinner and my mother in law's were out of state, it made back to back drives kind of hard on all of us. My husband hasn't been sleeping too well as of late and I was worried that the eye twitch he was developing would become the next scene from the Exorcist. In all, my mother in law was more than understanding and it made sense to us to space it out to spare him the stress and preventing us from becoming future alcoholics. Although he handled the dinner with our friends, he was tired on the way home and of course, our little ones were exhausted and fussing the whole ride home. We decided to do a Thanksgiving stand in, occupying nothing but the couch, watching Christmas movies, eating a big pot of homemade beef soup and fresh sour dough bread. It was nice to not have to get dressed up, not have to deal with a ton of people and constantly watching my husband for signs of the oncoming stress.

Black Friday brought on some of our Veteran friends considering and some braving the crowds for a few holiday items. All I can say, is God Bless them. My husband looking over a few sales ads actually considered and asked me if I would like to go. Amongst his sudden proclamation, came sudden visions of Black Friday crowds, women running wild in their pajamas grabbing and snatching, my husband suddenly erupting, security or the police called and of course, whether my slim bank account could produce bail money! After some serious moments of silence, we both decided that yeah...sending a severe PTSD Veteran into Walmart or Best Buy on Thanksgiving Night or on Black Friday was not a good idea. So far in the news, we have seen people being pepper sprayed, shot at, and black eyes all while clutching their beloved items they saved five, ten, or a hundred dollars on. I didn't want to be the first family on the six o'clock news with the headline of "Combat PTSD Veteran runs rabid through a local Walmart" and permanently adding to the already piling stigma our Veterans are having to face.

Overall, it wasn't a bad holiday. I have had a nasty cold I have been trying to soothe and with the three kids home from school for a total of five very looooong days, about made us all want to pull our hair out. Sitting in, watching movies has been something we haven't done in a long time so was totally worth not having to get out and do the normal Thanksgiving turkey thing. So down to the nitty gritty of "How do you survive it all?". While we laugh and joke about alcohol, Xanex, Valium and whatever else helps you through it all....we have to be honest and be serious. Anytime you have company, family or friends over...it's going to be stressful. The spouse is stressed because she is probably doing the majority of the cleaning, the cooking and reigning in any children that are running around on a holiday high. Such demands can lead to one cranky spouse and that really does run over on our Veterans. In my experience, the less stressed I am, the less my husband feeds off of it.

Having dinner with a small group, not having too heavy of expectations on my husband and not worrying about trying to explain his if any, bad behavior, made for less stressful holidays. Doing the pot luck type dinner with other Veterans turned out to be the best Thanksgiving dinner we have had post war. Now I know from having family in the past, this isn't going to work for many because of the standard family demands of "You have to be here, it's expected". However, there are many things that have changed with our PTSD and/or TBI Veterans and that includes such large gatherings. Some can handle it with minor issues and some just can't do it at all. I find that after four years, I just stopped setting him up for failures and setting myself up for the scape goat and running around cleaning up the mess. We keep it simple, we keep it structured and other than doing a few things around the house for me.....I let him unwind before we go anywhere. While I love the holidays and socialization, keep it sparingly and keep it to a minimum.

From the Veterans side of the house, many stated the same thing over and over again such as this statement from a Veteran reader in TX, "My family doesn't understand and I feel like I have to be the way I used to be and I can't. If I don't smile, my mother freaks out. My aunts or uncles are all wanting to know what happened overseas. I feel bombarded, cornered and violated and if they aren't asking questions, they are staring at me and whispering about the son they used to have but is now crazy. If I don't have a lot to say or get nervous, everyone is angry with me. I go home to my wife yelling and screaming at me because I wasn't nice or demanding to know why can't I be the way I was before I went over? I don't know why. I wish I could be and want so bad to be. I just can't be that way. It's not like I set out to be that way or intentionally want to hurt them. I just try to be quiet and make it through all the madness." I really like when you guys write in because like this statement, I think this puts a lot of things into perspective for us spouses, family members who are seeking information or not understanding what's going on. It is more so important for those of us whose Veterans aren't really telling us how they feel.

I know a few years ago when all this was new, I was the one yelling and screaming at my husband on the way home all while in tears. He would just sit there and look straight ahead. I never stopped to consider what he felt or what he was going through. Thank you TX for bringing this point to light.

A few good links I have come across that are useful such as this one on Spousebuzz, PTSD and Holiday Season Triggers. Always interesting, and some I have participated in, is Family of a Vet's Blog Talk Radio which has different opinions, options and discussions. Often, I learn more from these types of informational resources than I ever could in a book or pamphlet. There is a blog session Handling PTSD During the Holidays and there are two parts. The second discussion can be found here. Another article I recently stumbled upon was on About.com, Coping with the Effect of PTSD and Family Holidays.

We are trying to keep our Christmas season this year small, quiet and to a minimal on family. I am not over doing it on spending money mostly because we don't have it, not going to over do it on family mostly because we don't have very many left, and just try to enjoy the holidays day by day. I am making sure his input is in everything we do from the tree, down to the presents for our children, but other than that...hoping to do things one at a time and not get my husband overwhelmed or myself for that matter! If we can make it through Christmas like we did Thanksgiving, I will be be then be able to breathe again. Try to make sure that your Veteran doesn't have a lot on his plate at one time, encourage but not place too heavy of demands on them, and if family gets too pushy...sometimes you just got to push back and say NO. It's not about the presents, or the decorations...its about love, family and the joy of a new year with a clean slate.

I for one, am ready to get to the New Year as this girl has some much needed projects in the works that I want to get started! For Caregivers, make sure that the stress isn't completely all on your shoulders. If someone offers to help or pitch in, allow them to do so! Ask a friend to watch the kids to allow you to go do some shopping and stop and have a hot chocolate all to yourself. If you belong to a church, or an organization...ask for help with the decorating. I know many have written to say all they had to do was just ask and many pitched in. For some of us, I know that will not always be an option.

Hoping the Christmas holiday season will start with some ease and no stress here but am preparing cautiously for it like I normally do. Seriously considering writing a letter to Santa for just one really good Christmas without any tears. I wonder if they do those sort of requests at the North Pole?

Reconsidering Mama's Eggnog,

Easy Does It

2011-11-21T05:21:00.000-08:00

In the past few months, it's been slightly overwhelming for me. I am starting to recognize the signs of serious stress and for the first time, am going to put myself first for a while. That will mean, standing my ground, and allowing myself not to feel guilt and to place a few things second. My health is also not doing very good and of course, that is my biggest fear as a mother and caregiver. My fear of, who will care for them, always strikes an uneasiness in this ol' gal. After some careful deliberation, advice from good friends, consideration of my health, upcoming surgeries, and the willingness to place myself first, there will be some changes. With the holidays coming up, I am trying to get some down time before my surgeries and of course, balancing my husband's severe issues.

In advocacy of speaking out, I will be occasionally placing guest's posts on here. I have placed a "Want Ad" on Facebook and other areas, asking for spouses, military members, family members who are dealing with PTSD, TBI or other issues that relate to guest post on this site. It will give me some down time I need, and more importantly, an opportunity for those who normally don't speak out...to do just that. Please welcome these posts just as warmly, lovingly and respectfully as you do mine each and every time. I want to be able to extend the opportunity I have had, and give some who need a place for their voice to be heard. This is a good opportunity for them to also test the waters on the world of blogging and I am always advocating for just that.

Guest posts, will be sent in for my review and scheduled for posting. I am not taking any posts that do not have something to do with PTSD or TBI, especially those who want to submit sales, pyramid schemes, sexual exploitation, or phony online sites. Those, I will not even consider or look at. It must be military related to these subjects no matter if it was non-combative or combat related as there are some families out there, where PTSD or TBI occurred in non-combat situations like Military Sexual Trauma. If you are a military member, family (especially mothers, caregivers that aren't spouses), or a spouse, I am looking for others to write. Please submit any writings to unclesamsmistress@rocketmail.com. With that said, all writings will be posted with permission and under name, created name or anonymous name for a little while to allow me some free time and recuperation.

In any writings, please remember that extremely graphic language, (some is inevitable as we are all military, ain't no going around that one!) and unnecessary hurtful things will not be accepted. I do not want to lose my reputation, integrity or tarnish Uncle Sam's Mistress in any way. I simply just want to give some who otherwise would not speak out, an opportunity to allow their voices to be heard. I will still be posting in my down time, I will be using these guest posts to fill the gaps.

If you email, it might take me some time to answer them. I always try to answer each and every one but here lately, the average is around 300 or more a week. Some weeks my family can encounter more than my email account will hold. It's not that I don't want to answer, but it would take a team of people or someone working full-time to answer each one. I appreciate each and every email and always take time to read them. However, with stress, family, surgeries and time ticking down to some big changes for my family....I may not be able to email each and every single one back all the time. Do know that every email is always read by me. Please know if I had more time, I would be able to answer them all but it has grown so much that it's impossible to answer them all.

I am very honored that my blog and that Uncle Sam's Mistress has been so readily accepted, recognized and loved by many, especially my military members. I think everyone knows I am trying to speak out as much as possible, as loudly as I can, for all of us. What is said to me is confidential (no one will have access to that) always taken with every ounce of respect and non-judgment, and I still stand by my motto of "What happens between us, stays between us".

I just think this Mistress needs a little bit of down time, time to get through necessary surgeries, and try to make it through this holiday season with out any major incidents like last year's. I would like to welcome those who have already submitted their posts and do know as I publish, I will be letting you know when they are up. For those who are interested, please let me know if you have any questions. Thank you all for pushing me on, rooting for me, and for giving me for fuel for the fight and the courage to keep going. Each and every friendship we have created, has meant the world to me.

Counting Myself First For Once,

Are We To Blame?

2011-11-17T06:06:00.000-08:00

I recently read an article where a retired military member talked about the variety of services that family members could utilize and that if they didn't use them, that it was essentially their fault. In other places, I have read that spouses often don't utilize their Family Support Groups, or Family Readiness Groups which is run by their command. If they don't utilize such programs put into place, again the fault lies on us. Always, such organizations like Military One Source, is the number one "go to person" that we all should lay our heavy burdens at their door. To be honest...all this pisses me off. I don't think its as simple as some military members say it is. If it were, we wouldn't be still searching for programs,speaking out, utilizing online programs and I would be running out of things to say in this blog!

The issues that I have is, that yes, there are programs out there through the military and other outlets but some are flawed so badly that we don't use them for a reason. Military One Source turned us away on many occasions, and after giving it one more college try so to speak, we called again. Two hours later, their answer was "We are unable to help with Post Traumatic Stress or Traumatic Brain Injury because that is considered medical and not under our programs. Your option and our job is to refer you to the Veterans Affairs". We had been in the VA system for three years. Over the past two years, this very thing is what is leading many people to turn to online resources and internet support groups. Looking over the emails I get, sorting and filing for writing purposes; I have to wonder why so many of us are experiencing the same thing, yet they keep pushing it? I have to wonder why it is that this program or others are constantly shoved out there as our savior to all that goes wrong? We weren't even able to get family counseling and what they did offer my family, was child therapy at the other side of the state. At this time, I was barely making it to buy groceries, living off a small tiny portion of 900.00 a month that took us three years to get. So how did they think I was going to be able to utilize six free sessions on the other side of the state, which was almost six-seven hours for us?

Warrior Family Support Centers are not the haven of mercy to run to according to many many folks who write in. A common statement that I get in emails is "What do you do when the military says they will help you if you come forward, then turn you away?". Many have written in that yes, they willingly went on post to the Warrior Family Support Centers and were offered help in some shape form or fashion. However, in that same outreached hand of support the underlying threat of "If you seek help, you do understand this will be on your record and you will get a profile for mental health. If you get the help and you admit you are having issues, you will more than likely get removed from service, you will have to find a new job, you will lose your housing, your insurance...is this really what you want to do?" Many find they back away because if they are career military, what else is there out there when that is your current lifestyle?

For an already messed up Veteran, this can cause them to back off when it probably took a good length of time just to get them to admit they need the help. The second issue that I see coming from all this, is wrong information being passed out such as usage and transfer of the GI Bill to spouses or children. For many, we are now learning that once the PEB starts...your GI Bill freezes and therefore unable to use it, transfer it etc. Many spouses and soldiers are hearing "don't worry about this until after medical board is finished" only to discover the one benefit you didn't think you had to fight for...is gone.

As one reader wrote that I thought summed it up very well was "the outreached hand of help smacks you pretty hard and it stings long after". I have to say I have wondered if we were Active component would it have been easier for us, but in truth if this was our entire life, I don't know what we would do. What if that is all we know and then suddenly PTSD took that all away? I have to wonder myself what we would have done. So is it best not to seek the help, but end up in worse shape than they already are in? It floors me why the military and the VA systems are still shocked that there are 18 suicides a day, and that's not counting the spouses who commit suicide. As of yet, that number is not being tracked.

Family Readiness Groups and Family Support are not always the best thing to say to turn to. Many are under educated, many don't want to be there but their husbands make them, have no resources and a bulk of them most spouses don't go to because many find that they are being judged. Many reported that Gossip is what keeps them from even attending the meetings, so why would they go and talk to the leaders for help? What people failed to realize is that FRG's and FSG's only can refer, not provide answers. I wish that they would make that statement more clear. I know this because I was a co-leader of our unit's Family Readiness Group and it used to make me so mad that we were not able to help our soldiers in the capacity that is needed. I was often reminded and smacked on the hand because I could not "provide help to one family or one soldier; it has to benefit the unit as a whole". This was the reason I left our Family Readiness Group. I felt too many were being turned away, and I refused to be one of them because I had been doing it on our own for a very long time. Some of these groups on post or off post are really wonderful with women or family members who are there because they want to be. Some groups are cohesive and work well together. Others do not work that way. I have to be honest to say, that before I came along in our FRG....the last place I would ever ever go to is our FRG. I believe that many good FRG/FSG leaders have found that our hands our tied when it comes to these situations by military rules. That is, of course, if they care enough about their position and their unit. I couldn't see why I had to turn away a soldier in times of need and help, but try to pacify them enough to sell them a cookie or unit t-shirt for an annual Christmas Party.

Utilizing the Commanders of units is also very difficult because you are plainly stating "Yep, I am not able to do my job under the guidelines you think I should be". In the last two years, I can't even count how many emails that Veterans have reported in that they went to their Command, and were either turned away, told that they would be removed from service, or their promotions would be turned down. I honestly think that the smoke screen the military put up here recently is just that....a covering. In my hopeful heart, I would like to think that the higher ups who are supposed to be training, setting forth new programs and trying to make changes, are actually doing it. However, sometimes the hardest hurdles are having to jump the higher ranks in your units. Once you get past that, you must then utilize the military doctors.

One reader made a powerful comment I felt was the Hallmark statement of how hard it is to get help. She said, "There is help, but who is the help serving? Even now I find myself questioning what the real intent is behind the "help". "If it is to dot the i's and cross the t's....it is gonna fall short, if it is to look good for political reasons - that is just wrong, if it is to prevent liability....shame on the system that created this monster. I know each case is different, but in our family's situation I do feel and continue to feel that the liability concern comes first and the humanity comes second. I have a very, very, very, very hard time dealing with this."

She also commented further, "In our case, the Army docs had one agenda: are you deployable or not. Remove that agenda, and the opportunity for treatment changes". When she wrote that, I sat back in my chair and chewed on that for a minute. I was like wow, that is the truth in our lives. It all comes down to being usable or not. Our military members have become expendable with very little disregard to what becomes of them after they are deemed unworthy.For all those who root on the family who stayed behind and kept the home fires burning.....they don't remember us at all.

Some readers felt their best choices for any resources were through Army Community Services. Some reported that a Federal Recovery Coordinator, Army Wounded Transition Unit Caseworker, or Reserve Recovery Coordinators were as close as they could get. However, getting those is not the easiest especially for those of us whose issues did not appear until after they had been home. I know for us, it took four years for someone to decide a Reserve and Federal Recovery Coordinators would be beneficial for us. Then you have to play Russian Roulette because you do have some who is only there to collect a paycheck. One reader felt that the Army Community Services worked fairly well for them and the issues of PTSD. However, as she cautioned, not all of them are going to be that way and there is always the concern of information disclosed because it is Active Duty. She stated in her experience that they had Counselors that didn't require appointments or even have to disclose your name. She felt in her experience, it was unusual but at least they were trying to work on breaking down the barriers and stigmas for families who were worried that their unit's Commanders would find out.

Other than that, a bulk of emails state they have no one to depend on or to get help from anyone but themselves. I can relate to the point of doing it alone strongly, because for the past four years? I have had to depend on no one but ourselves. My issue is that if the military is going to spend all this time and tax dollars putting people into place to help, or create programs...why not stay on top of them to ensure that the job is done? Why not spend just a little more and ensure that our Veterans are getting the "all" that they gave them during their service? Why not go one step ahead and prepare those who are Commanding units? This Mistress wonders why they simply can't take the time they are using to make it look like they are doing something....and actually do something. I can say that our Commander, always sort of looked like the proverbial deer caught in a headlight, because I don't think he understood what we were going through.

I get so tired and frustrated when the blame goes back on the family members. They don't give you a PTSD 101 for Dummies, an Army Manual for Idiots on TBI, or even warn you about the problems our Veterans could experience later on. They kind of sugar coat it and make it sound not so bad. We are much better off than our brothers and sisters before us in Vietnam,Gulf War and, all those in between like Somalia. I sincerely believe its because we are all standing up now and talking about it. I for one, do not think the family members should carry the blame from any of the military or VA because it's not our fault. We can only do so much and we aren't trained professionals or doctors. The military says well you should have done this or that. Ok, so then what? You boot them out maybe with a diagnosis of Post Traumatic Stress (if not a diagnosis of Personality Disorder) or if they are lucky, a Traumatic Brain Injury but then merely pass the buck to the VA. Once there, its here are some meds, and then let's send them right back to the families. We take them back and its "here is another pill". We are already carrying much of the blame because as family, we never stop wondering what we could have done, changed and always wondering what wrongs we could have righted. Is it really fair to have someone say that it's our fault?

I know for one I am not in the wrong. I have spent the last four years fighting like hell to just get treatment, ensure that its the right treatment and trying to get the Army to fix their mistakes that caused all this hell we have been living in since he came home in 2007. I have been spending the last four years of screaming when no one heard me because they were deafened by others all while being enclosed in a box with very high walls. To go through all this, read all of your emails and hear your stories...then hear people who have the nerve to say "well, if you can't get help, you have no one to blame but yourself" really makes this woman mad.

Personally, I got four years all in a notebook that states otherwise. Four years of scars, mental exhaustion, nails bore down to the quick from clawing my way out of the cracks we fell through and not much ahead of where we were four years ago. I wonder if those that make those comments of warning to our families and soldiers, clock out and go home and sleep peacefully at night. If they do, it must be nice....because I can guarantee for all of us? There is no such thing as clocking out.

We didn't fail. They failed us.

The Copper Plate That Spoke

2011-11-09T10:10:00.000-08:00

I recently returned to New York City as previously before in June with the Wounded Warrior Project's Writer's Workshop for Caregivers. I couldn't wait til the plane touched down and get with my beautiful friends made of steel amongst the skyscrapers and lights. Although I am small town and being in such a city as New York is daunting and scary, the excitement of what I might find kept my nerves wound tight. I don't know what was wrong with me this past weekend, but due to my health, lack of decompression time, things that had been up, down and sideways; caused my mood to be a bit melancholy. I felt fragmented and really unsure how to put back my pieces.

As promised, I rushed late Friday night down to the Catholic Charities on 7th Avenue to see if I could locate my Dunkin Doughnut coffee buddies only to find no one had seen Mike in a while. I wanted so badly to see him just one more time and perhaps explain to him that he made me really think about a lot of things. I think he was the closest talk with God I had ever had in my life. Maybe I needed to see his face, hear his voice one more time, and perhaps selfishly...I wanted to draw in the simple, quiet strength that radiated from him. Our hotel had changed, but the direction didn't bother me because early in the wee hours, I still had silent coffee talks with several homeless men who walked past me while pushing their grocery carts that held their lives. I admired their strength to keep walking, their never fail smiles they gave me, and wondered what I would put into my cart had I been in their shoes.

During this writer's guild workshop I attended, we were given the opportunity to visit the World Trade Tribute Center. It was one of the hardest things I ever had to do, walking through bits and pieces of sorrow, lost love, last breaths, and reminders of what used to be. Emotionally drained, physically sick and tired, and unsure of my mental stability in that time...I walked ahead of my group, around the corner of Ladder 10 to see a beautifully engraved, copper memorial plate that glowed with the evening sun. Amongst the melancholy, and my fighting the tears, there stood a middle aged man who was rambling and speaking out to the crowds of people as they rushed by in a hurry. I stopped to recognize the firemen emblazoned forever amongst the copper, hitting home the details of each face, name and remembering the memory of that horrible day of 9/11.

I stopped to get photos of this wall because I knew my husband would want pictures of this marker and no matter where I stood, this man would place himself in front of my camera's eye. I don't know what made me stop, and listen to his rapid, machine gun fire of words that he was filling the already loud air, but I listened. I watched. I made a mental note of his clothing, his choice of words, and more importantly...his actions. In between shouting out, "Know your history. Know the names. Know they aren't all there. Know your history my friends. Know it. I want you to know", he scrubbed at that copper plate with a small, wired bristle brush ferociously while polishing with a dirty rag held in the other hand. I listened as he kept scrubbing, hanging on to every word he said, and wondering if copper could be simply wiped away due to such intense attention.

While walking back and forth, he scrubbed. He scrubbed as if in his mind, there was something dirty he couldn't simply just polish with a rag. It suddenly dawned on me where I had seen this type of obsessive manic movements. I had seen it in the nightmares and sleep walking of my husband. It was different, but the same haunting movements could only come from someone who still sees the ghosts of war. He scrubbed that copper plate with the same intensity as my husband tried to get whatever off he had on him in his nightmare. My heart jumped a little as I recognized so much in him, that I have seen in other Veterans. The same haunted eyes, the hollowness, the far away look, and the urgency in his cries out for someone to listen to what he had to say. I had to say that this was a day I was ashamed of many. Many who rushed past him, the many who stood behind him and called him names. I was ashamed that tourists were taking pictures of him as if he was some sort of freak show and all the while, I wondered why it didn't seem to bother him. All those people assaulting him with their verbal stones that to anyone, would hurt to the quick...but he never missed a beat.

"They are there...they are there. Their names aren't on the wall. The wall. Not on the wall. Know your history, know it's not all there. It's gone, they're gone. We didn't get them home." he said over and over again.

I knew what he was saying because when 9/11 happened, I asked my mother "what happened to all the homeless people that were there?" She said in a soft, sorrowful voice "I don't know honey. I hope they got out. They are people too". Yes. Yes they are and I didn't forget. I remembered that conversation while he was scrubbing. I don't know why I did it, but I walked up to him as he faced the copper marker and was scouring with his worn down brush. He never looked at me, he just scrubbed as if that wire brush and copper plate held some type of secret penance for him. He never acknowledged that I was there. Just kept on scrubbing and muttering while he rubbed whatever sin he was trying to correct.

Time stood still. There were no loud noises echoing off the buildings, no sounds of traffic, and not even the loud rhythmic drumming coming from the sit in, Occupy Wall Street, which filled any gaps of silence the city of New York could have possibly had left. I made sure, due to uncertainty, to give him personal space because I didn't know him. I leaned over and placed a few bills in his bucket around his neck. I told him softly, "I didn't forget them Sir. I know there were many who died here that didn't make the wall. I know they are here and I didn't forget." As my words whispered in to his ear, he suddenly stopped. His wire brush hung midair on the copper he scrubbed and looking straight ahead at one of the firemen on the plate he said,

"Are you a Veteran?"

"No Sir, my husband is. Iraq, in 2006."

"Do you know what is important about the number seven?"

"Yes Sir, there were more than just the towers destroyed. There were seven others here".

"You understand. You know. You know your history. You know. They just left them there lady. There wasn't a place for their names. They mattered, they were my friends. They were there. I was there. I saw it fall and I screamed for them. I screamed and screamed. I was told to get out of the way. It was the same in Vietnam. No bodies, no tags, just leave 'em. There is nothing there now." as he pointed to the barriers blocking off the WTC Memorial. "There is a beautiful building but when I look the spirits are there. I see them. I see them and they tell me their names are not on the wall. Seven. Why can no one remember that there were seven? The Church. Gone. Church that held God is gone. It's just gone."

Such desperation and urgency for me to listen rang in my ears, and in the background I heard "that is one crazy mother-fucker." and "what the hell is she talking to him for?" Anger surged through my body like an electrical volt but I stood my ground and I never let my eyes stray away from his. I heard nothing and no one. I saw the same emptiness of a man that once was and just wanted his words to be heard. I looked at him, grabbed his hand and said, " I understand. I see and hear them too".

Tears welled up and he said, "your husband ok?"

"No Sir, he isn't. He just gets worse as the days go by. He sees the same ghosts, I think, as you."

He looked at me so clearly as if suddenly someone suddenly turned the light on and said, "All those people little lady. All those people. No one mattered unless they had a home, or money. Why could they not place a marker for them? That's all they want. I want people to know the truth. I want them to understand their history and learn from it. They call me crazy, I hear 'em. I guess I am crazy but they ain't got to see them every day. I come and scrub because I remembered. They stand there and remind me over and over again that they are all lost. I scrub and scrub. 2,976 is not the right number. No, no its not. Not all the names. 2...9...7...6 no it wasn't all. They stopped counting. I scrub away it all."

"I understand, Sir. My husband still scrubs too." I whispered with understanding. God, did I get it.

He said softly, "Thank you. Thank you for listening to my words. I just wanted them to hear me."

"I hear you, Sir. Tell them, I hear them too. I didn't forget."

He leaned over and said "May I shake your hand and kiss your cheek?"

I looked at him for a second and said "I would be honored to have you give me such a gift".

His hand was large, strong and warm. His kiss was scruffy that engraved a place on my cheek gently and soft. So much so, that his kiss still lingers five days later. There was no need to say goodbye, no need to formally shut the conversation down, it was with mutual understanding that the light was gone and he looked at me and nodded. He then said "Little lady? They hear you too."

I walked back to meet my group and as I looked over my shoulder, I saw him pack up his things as quick as he scrubbed that wall previously. For a split second, he stopped and looked over at the large, blue barriers and nodded in silence as if he was agreeing with someone that just wasn't there. My heart was so sad, heavy with guilt that all those people just passed him up. Someone told me I must be crazy to talk to "these people". Another told me that I shouldn't have let him touch me as if our childhood "cooties" he did indeed have, were contagious. Maybe I am crazy. Maybe I shouldn't have waltzed right up to him. However, I think the most profound wisdom you can receive as a human being, comes from the most unlikely of places and people. He didn't ask for anything more than just someone to listen to him. To simply acknowledge that yes, all the names of those who were lost that terrible day in our placement of history were not on the wall, was all he wanted.

For those who don't know, there were seven in addition to the two twin towers that were destroyed or badly damaged. These were 7 World Trade Center, 6 World Trade Center, 5 World Trade Center, 4 World Trade Center, the Marriott World Trade Center (3 WTC), and the World Financial Center complex and St. Nicholas Greek Orthodox Church. Seven was the number he so desperately asked me if I knew the meaning behind. "Seven" he said, "held the lives of many and homes to many who aren't on the wall".

His voice and his face, etched a permanent place in the vast caverns of my mind. I wondered what his story was? Who his friends were? What past did this remarkable man have? My heart ached because just as I reminded someone else who said I was nuts, that could be our husbands. Our brothers. Our sisters. Our mothers. There were only a few differences between him and our families. Our soldiers and Veterans have us. It could have been my husband, or your husband. Would we have turned a blind eye and deaf ear to them the same way? No one stopped to look carefully at him as his Army background did indeed give him away to someone who knows.

I left New York but I don't think this moo-cow town girl will ever have New York leave me. In the loud city with the busy rush of people passing by in a blur, there are some who sit, calling out to those who won't listen. There are still those who linger behind silently in people's minds, begging to be put to rest. I think sometimes you just have to stop long enough to hear the truth. If you ever want to hear a story, stop at NYFD Ladder 10 and see how that copper plate, does indeed speak. Question is....will you really hear it's voice?

All of them Remembered,

Question From a Reader "Do you Feel........"

2011-11-02T03:24:00.000-07:00

This question came in my email last week and after thinking long and hard about it, decided to see if I could print this and to my surprise she said yes.

"USM, I am taking your suggestion and teaching myself to blog. When I sat down yesterday to start, I had to delete, omit, then take out some more because of family and friends. How do you do it without feeling guilty? Do you ever worry about putting it all out there, or sometimes bad mouthing your husband to the world? How do you deal with the comments and emails? I LOVE your blog, but often wonder how do you not get into trouble by saying some of the things you do? How do you do it all without feeling guilt at all? Do you beat yourself up later for the things you said? I also get scared that it will backlash on me. From a HUGE fan in Snowmass, CO."

Ahhhh I wondered when someone would ask me about 'Guilt'. First off Snowmass, I am thrilled to see that you are taking on blogging. I once read a quote that was always my favorite from Will Rogers, "Even if you are on the right track, you'll get run over if you just sit there". Means, you need to always do something even when it all feels ok. I find that blogging, using a journal and such things, are therapeutic, accessible and feasible for those of us who need to find some type of outlet when we are facing challenges of the standard outlets such as group therapy, support groups etc. I had to really think about this because your email stumped me! I rarely get asked direct questions to me. I thought long and hard and the answer is.....sometimes. I am starting therapy via telephone, believe it or not, and during that I discovered that Guilt is my biggest downfall.

When I started blogging, sometimes my husband would read and sometimes not. Most times, he gives me ideas on the topics I choose or something he says he wants me to mention. He without knowing it, creates the subjects I write about. Often times, my children say something or most of the time personal experience builds my decision on what to talk about. While some of you might think "shame on her" because of what I said about my husband, it is nothing we haven't discussed or anything behind his back. Although silence is an issue at times, we do have conversations and of course, arguments and often these things come up. Is it too personal and am I sharing too much? Possibly. However, when this blog began to pick up with readers and the amount of hits it was receiving, my husband said the most powerful thing he ever has to me and that was "If you are going to do this, don't do it half-ass. If you can help but just one person you did something important.". I had a comment the other day on my Facebook page for this blog, asking if my husband could sometimes comment or write his point of view. What you all don't realize is, he is here in my writing just the same as I am. I have my days, and that reflects in my writing of course...but I don't think I continuously "bad mouth" my husband and often put his point of view in there, such as thinking I am the enemy or how he feels. His words, not mine. This blog is a combination of both of us; its a part of my whole family. We have walked this road alone for so long that we don't want to see another one of you do it on your own. If that means telling it all, well then we must. We both decided that we would stand up, and say you know what? This IS what is real. These are our feelings, all that we are and all that we will be.

Now, guilt from it all? Of course. I am human. I feel anger, bitterness, frustration, love, happiness, sadness and emptiness but, all of those I can compartmentalize, shove back and try not to let it run rabid. Guilt though is harder to push back and often does eat at me. Is it because of my husband or my family? Not often but sometimes I wonder if we did the right thing by blogging about everything. For the rest such as the VA, the military, etc? Most definitely. I will admit that when I hit "Publish Post" I realize that there are dozens of VA's , dot.gov, and dot.mil addresses across the United States/world jumping on each and every post and staying for a while. I worry that when someone reads my posts, and knows who I am in real life they will be angry or pissed at me. However, the ones who eventually do find out they are rather surprised rather than upset with me. I have been nicely told to stop, casually mentioned not to bring up certain subjects, told I really didn't need to post this or that, and I often wonder if some just get scared of me because I am blogging. The biggest thing that bothers me is I don't want people to help me because they are afraid I will blog. I want them to help because that's their job, and that they do their job because it IS a wounded soldier.

There is a reason why I write under a pen name. I really don't like people knowing who I am and there are only a trusted handful that do know who I am, other than our local VA etc. Anonymity is a wonderful thing, and after a long talk with a spouse the other day, she mentioned that I did a good job keeping my identity safe as she didn't even know who I was. I am a book lover and history buff, and I knew that many past historical authors like Dr. Seuss, Mark Twain were all created names. Many women of the 19th Century wrote under a man's name because that was the only way they could be published and since this is a long way from the 19th Century, J.K. Rowling of the Harry Potter series is also considered to have a pseudonym. I created my pen name to write under because it was easier, to be honest, to write behind that smoke screen. It gave me strength if that makes sense and the cajones to talk about tougher subjects.

Often times, confrontation and I do not agree. I don't think of myself as a fighter, a leader, or any of that so its easier for "Uncle Sam's Mistress" to get the credit than me, myself and I. I don't give our location, our doctor's names, anything that says HERE I AM COME GET ME. I don't think I have talked about anything that is going to cause some men in black to show up at my front door. However, in all of this, I did get help and that meant telling some who I am in real life so we could get that help. Did it bite me in the ass in the long run? I am not sure. That is a debate that I am still trying to figure out and counting the steps I am taking. Have I been chastised for blogging? Of course, but you know what? I figure this is my right, my husband and many many others fought for that right and not one single time, have I never NOT spoken the truth. If you failed me, I am going to say something about it. I also say, if its the truth and people get mad? That means they are worried.

I will admit, its easier to throw on the superwoman cape, write under the elusive Uncle Sam's Mistress, and way much easier for me to answer each and every email. I think looking back on it all, the most thing I feel guilty about....is not having all the answers for many. I am not a professional, never claimed to be, and only share our personal experiences, victories and failures. However, some find that I am an easy person to write to, especially my Veterans and soldiers. I sometimes am the confessional priest, but I don't know how to answer or what to say. Some stories are harder to read than others, some make me cry at night when I am trying to wipe my own day of worries away and sometimes...some stories make it all worth while getting into trouble, or having people treat me differently because I wrote something online. I sometimes feel guilty because I wish I had someone to confess to, and I really don't accept to all you out "there".

Back lashing from comments, I rarely get. On a daily basis, I get more good than bad. I get more emails than comments, and that's ok because I understand the need for people to email and feel that cover too. However, because it is an email sometimes the anti-war people can get more carried away, weirdos get loonier and sometimes the conversations can become quite graphic on their part. I thank the good Lord for patience, forgiveness and the will to hit delete when I really want to respond back. I can say ouch, yeah that hurt! Hit delete and try to move on from that without stooping to their level. Some comments are kind of hateful, but everyone has their own opinion. Some think I am a martyr because I stay with my husband, some think I am courageous....it doesn't really matter what people think. It's what I think about me is the most important thing.

As a blogger, my suggestion to you is if you feel fear, retribution, insecurity...create a pen name and just leave it at that. There is no reason to state your name, your residence etc. You can be whoever you want to be and maybe that will find you the strength you are seeking. If you feel worried that your family will see it, or you don't everyone knowing ALL your business...then do it that way. A good friend late last night asked me if I was willing to walk the line, and I said yes. So ask yourself Snowmass, are you willing to walk the line? If you choose put it out there, it is done. You can delete all you want, but you can't erase a person's memory or knowledge. However, in the same late night conversation, we bloggers are probably the safer majority because we DO put it out there. I kind of feel that if we don't though, we won't ever get the help and we damned sure didn't learn anything from our past wars. You have to decide what you are most comfortable with doing. You must in the end, choose of what you write and how much you put out there. In the words of my husband again, I tell you "If you are going to do this, don't do it half-ass. If you can help but just one person you did something important".

I hope this answers all your questions Snowmass. I sincerely wish you well on your endeavor and your decisions to blog. I will be rooting all the way from down here in Moo-Cow Town USA if you choose to do it. It is a good outlet, but in the end...you ultimately have to decide the consequences, the guilt and how to write it all out. If you should choose to use your name, and feel you have to omit some things...well, I kind of think it's a waste of time if you feel so censored. I just wouldn't say anything to my family or like some, just leave that out all together. There are many many bloggers out there who feel like you and some who censor themselves while others let it all hang out. It can be a wonderful thing, and sometimes it can be a hard thing. It's all about your level of comfort-ability, because if you are comfortable writing....your words will flow and be comfortable to read and that my dear, is your ultimate goal. To get it all out, to take the burden off of you, to let it all out and then let it go. Just ask yourself as I did....How much do you want to let go of?

Thank you for the email and making ME stop to think for a while,

VA Caregiver Program

2011-10-30T09:06:00.000-07:00

Many of you have written in to ask about the New Caregiver Program for post 9-11 disabled veterans who require care full time or assistance with daily living. There are some who haven't either heard about it, have some misconceptions, ideas, and yes, even a few think it's a little scary. It's a VA program so yes, I was worried too, I'll admit. I am hoping to write this out to answer some questions, provide some information on it for those who need it and clear the path of the unsure for others. Our process believe it or not, honestly wasn't bad at all. Y'all know I will shoot straight from the hip and tell you how it is!

When it first started, I didn't know anymore than just rumors that it was being put into place and getting set up. Our Federal Recovery Coordinator told me about it and being the upbeat and dear person she is, encouraged me to contact them. I called on several occasions when it had just started. When I mean just started, I mean like they had just turned the 1-800 number on and the people answering were just as baffled as I was. There was some confusion right at the beginning and to be honest with you....I really kind of checked it off my list of things that the VA had to offer. I had the same idea that many of you have of "Oh God, here we go again. Just another promise, but no follow through"! After the third call that left me filled with more questions that what I had to begin with, I figured that this wasn't for our situation. A month later, my dear friend Brannan at Family of a vet encouraged me again as well as our coordinators assigned to us. The requirements for the program were a bit confusing, parts still being adjusted and tweeked; leaving still quite a few of us out that didn't really fall in the guidelines.

As the time went by, the Caregiver Program was often brought up to me and I explained the reason the 1-800 number told me I didn't qualify. As many of you know that follow all the time, my husband is still considered in service although not able to serve. He hasn't served since December of last year with January's "bottom falling out" sealing the deal. Now with us, we have asked about the Med Board process for three years so we were kind of stuck in the middle of nowhere land up until this year. One of the requirements for the Caregiver Program is a medical discharge date or estimated date. I didn't have that, so I couldn't even fill out the application online.

After speaking to the OIF/OEF director, the best solution for us was to simply call and ask the Caregiver Program Coordinator/Director herself. We had otherwise fit the bill for requirements so to speak, and she felt like we really needed to pursue this. This proved to be the best way to get not only the information, but the correct information and believe it or not, I haven't had one single complaint at all about this program so far except that it leaves out many others like our Gulf War and Vietnam families. Now for those of you who are wondering like this question that came in "What the hell is the VA Caregiver Program?"

The Caregiver program, (the fancier name as it was created, the Caregivers and Veterans Omnibus Health Services Act) was created and signed in as a program that was ready for applications starting May 9th of this year. It is designed to help provide respite care, counseling, training, insurance for spouses (more on this here in a second) and a monthly stipend for those (person who is considered primary care giver to the veteran) who care for wounded veterans that require assistance in daily activities. This program is very monumental and one that was fought and pushed for by many. Currently, this program is only for those suffering from severe physical and psychological wounds that were sustained in the Iraq and Afghanistan wars that requires them to need assistance. I don't honestly know if the respite care coverage is the same for all, but for us it was 30 days per year I can use should I need it. If you do not have insurance for health coverage, you can qualify as a caregiver for Champ VA. This does not mean you can stop using your health coverage if you have it. Only if you don't have one in place and need insurance. The monthly stipend is based on the level of care, how many hours is determined by the tier that you fell in and the pay based on that particular tier.

Once the application was filled out, I mailed it in and it took about two weeks before it came back to our Coordinator. I was rather impressed with our Coordinator here. She stayed in constant touch with us through the whole process, let me know when she got our application after it was processed and kept us in the loop on the next steps. Those next steps included having a physician, registered nurse or mental health doctor filling out the portion that states the Veteran needs assistance for daily living. We really don't see much of our PCM so was worried, but my husband's psychiatrist knew of our situation, how bad he was and filled it out for us. Before I knew it, we were pre-approved and on our way to expecting the online training from Easter Seals who created the online and workbook training program.

Now to answer many of the questions of who qualifies, its for those who need assistance for daily living and can be for those with mental disabilities such as PTSD and TBI, for those with physical disabilities OR a combination of both. Just remember, this is for those who must have help in order to get through the daily chores of just living. I had some questions that went along the lines of using this to quit their jobs and stay home, although their Veterans were working still full time and needed no care. This program isn't for that. If your Veteran is able to tend to himself, is working and needs no help, this program isn't for you to be able to quit your job and stay home. Not trying to be rude or nasty, just being bluntly honest and let you know you will be turned down. Now there are some who are in Vocational Rehab, needing assistance at home etc in which you might be able to qualify for. Just because some of them work, there are many out there who need assistance at work, at home and basically everywhere. I can't answer who is and who isn't, you just have to contact your VA's Coordinator and ask. It's as simple as that.

Many spouses are not applying because they are unsure if they qualify. Much of the time, we don't stop to look at how much we assist our veterans in daily living. Stop and look at how much you do, and how much they do on their own. You will be asked a series of questions, so this is a prime opportunity to be honest. Familyofvet.com has a fantastic breakdown of the whole process and the answers to some questions on the Caregiver program. This is a great web source for those who are confused, unsure, scared or wondering how the process works. Once you apply, they receive your application...your start date begins the day they get that application. So for us, I filled out the application and it was received three days later on August 19th. My first check will be on November 1st, which includes back payment from the August date.

The only issue I had was I chose to do my training online rather than doing the workbook. I find it easier to get out of bed early in the wee hours and completed it with just a couple of hours. It doesn't take that long, but do try to pay attention and not guess on the answers. In our case, the Coordinator Director did our home visit with the nurse and asked me some of the questions on the training. So just don't breeze through it and not really know the answers because it might just come back and catch you. The problem I had with the training provided was there was only one small section that had anything to do with those of us who are dealing with the more severe Post Traumatic Stress and TBI Veterans. A bulk of it is medicine related, infections, bed sores, home safety etc. While I found that it was rather easy to navigate, easy to complete and was probably very useful for those with physical wounds...it kind of left us Caregivers who are full time that are dealing with the psychological wounds of war out. I think I was looking for a bit more in this training such as preparing a safety plan, what to do when they become belligerent and nasty, what to do if they are in a severe flashback. However, I have to look at it this way. Each of our Veterans are different, so even if there had been a solution, that solution might not work for all of us.

So out of all the questions, the dreaded Home Visit seems to be scaring many of you. I have to tell you, this weighed on my mind heavily. Will I be judged? Will my home be clean enough? Do I have everything spic and span? What will they say about the toys in the floor of my child's bedroom? The list and fear kept building up. Let me tell you, I cleaned as if there was no tomorrow. If you came into my home and ran a cotton swab across my floor the only thing you would have found was cleaning products! I organized, I scrubbed, I moved things, I scoured to the point I barely made it through the home visit because I was so sore. I threatened my children with boot camp if they dropped food or drinks on my newly scrubbed and polished kitchen floor, and threatened if they dumped toys all over the place! I had medications nicely organized, laid out in particular fashion and made sure my food pantry and cabinets were those of someone who had severe obsessive compulsive disorder. Readers, I cleaned things with toothbrushes and in places that a normal human being wouldn't even look at, but let's be honest with ourselves. This is the VA we are talking about. We have been raked over the coals so badly, I was so afraid that one little place would cause me to fail our home inspection. It was silly, I knew I was overreacting but still couldn't help feel we were being placed under a microscope. I know that our VA probably doesn't like me that much, and that's ok. I just didn't want them to come into my home and say "Lord, not only is she a pain in the ass but her house is dirty too!"

They didn't even look at any of it. Not anything. They came straight in, made a comment my house smelled really nice, introduced themselves to my husband and sat down in the living room. That was it. There were some questions after they took my husband's blood pressure and weight, like "Do you have smoke alarms and are they working?, A safety plan for emergencies and fire evacuation?" etc. I was so disappointed! Now my house is usually clean and neat, but sometimes slightly cluttered especially since we have been working on paperwork and records for the Med Board. They would ask me a question, and I was willing them mentally to PLEASE go check. I think one of them asked me where the bedroom was located and I said its down the hall and to the right, you want to go see? Hahaha! After all was said and done, they left. We both kind of sighed a sigh of relief, but was like "Is that is?". All that worry, all that cleaning, and all that time spent worrying about the what ifs was pointless. Yet, my house was clean and things had been done that needed to be done for a while now so it was just a good excuse.

I think the purpose of the Home Visit is just to ensure that the home is safe, is a clean environment, has the required safety items like railings on stairs, handles in the bathrooms etc which are all very important. If you need those things, they will help you get those in place. Also, they want to make sure that the Veteran is well taken care of and you aren't abusing, mistreating or letting them live in squalor. Now to speak for our Veterans, these visits can be a little challenging. My husband doesn't really like people he doesn't know in our home. He was very nervous, pissed off, and if looks could kill? They would have had to bury these people twice. His paranoia was evident that day and he was extremely agitated they were here. The other downside of this program, is they will come back every three months to check in. That is mostly just to be sure there aren't any changes, things that are needed, and of course to be sure that the Caregiver is still taking care of them and they don't have them duct taped to some wall down in the basement. (That's a joke people). The thing that bothered my husband the most is that he didn't know these people, the nurse that was required to be here will be a different one every three months. I have to admit....I really didn't like that either. I think for all of us Caregivers, that can be a little nerve wracking because you will see someone different each time and you don't know who they are. For Veterans suffering paranoia on high levels, this can be a bit challenging.

Overall though, I promise you it's not that bad. Most of us who have applied will tell you the same thing. Some have bad stories, some are good. I think it just depends on who is the Caregiver Coordinator and fortunately for us, we seem to have a pretty good one who cares and seems to take her job seriously. It's worth all the paperwork, the wait, the training and the home visits. The issue we are facing right now, is not many people are applying. This is a good program with a lot of beneficial things involved, and if we don't get people to apply....I am afraid the government will come back and say "well, obviously there isn't a need for this and we should cut the program or funding". We don't want that! If you care for your veteran, no matter who you are....I encourage all of you to apply. For those of us Reserve and National Guard programs, and have a DD-214....see if they will accept that as your discharge date because they can use that as these are totally different entities than that of Active Duty components, if their injuries happened during active duty time served.

Check out Familyofavet.com , there is great information and links for you to look at. Another one is listed here. I have been there and done that with the VA, trust me. I know its scary, I know they can be one of our biggest obstacles when it comes to our Veterans, but I think they might have just gotten this one right. I feel I did better with dealing directly with our Caregiver Coordinator than wasting my time with the 1-800 number but you might find it differently. The National Caregiver Support Line at 1-855-260-3274. You can find the application here and more information. Stop a few minutes and look over it. Talk with your VA Caregiver Coordinator (ask through the operator or your OIF/OEF clinic) and just see if its something that can help you. I think out of all of it, I know that I can call our Coordinator and just talk. If I need counseling, I feel I can get it. Although I know I contribute to our home, work my butt off seven days a week, I feel that with the stipend I am financially contributing and that makes me feel good. For those that say well, I might only be on the lower tier...well, my thoughts are that is one level up from nothing, which is where you are right now.

Hope this helps relieve some of the worries, the stress and confusion about the program. The worst thing that can happen is you apply and they say no, so you haven't lost anything by just making the call. It took a lot of pushing, work and lobbying for this program to go into place. Let's thank those who made this possible by applying for it and utilizing it. Hopefully, in the next couple of years this program will be available to our Gulf War Veteran families as I know they are working on it.

As Always,

Shunned and Shamed

2011-10-27T09:44:00.000-07:00

When I stop to read many articles that come out about Caregivers/Spouses of Veterans, and or things that are stated like "what is the cost of the war"...no one really mentions much about the social aspect we lose like the dynamics of friendship, work relationships, and external family members. I think this is an important topic that is often overlooked and one that is vital to most of us. We live our lives normally, have our regular jobs where we earn our own money, doing things with friends and family pre-war and it feels like as if we belong in society. Post war changes everything. I have always been sociable, holding a fantastic position in a job and we just lived life the best that we were able to. When my husband came home, it seemed like the roller coaster of life became a fast moving freight train on the slow track. It never did go in one particular direction, so we never were able to get our bearings or an even ground to stand on. We live day by day, and although it seemed like things just stopped...these past four years went by in a blur.

This past weekend was one of those beautiful days that all of us look forward to and ones that are few and far between for us. When it happens, you want to wallow in it and bask yourself in the moment. You want to find yourself rolling around in the laughter, feeling yourself smile because your Veteran smiles; you want to literally bathe in the "good days". When they are gone, you smile at the memory but the heartache starts to creep back in as the reminder sets in that we aren't as normal as we used to be. The word normal really doesn't even belong in our vocabulary anymore. During those good days, you don't want anything at all to go wrong or someone to ruin it. We have become so starved for those small glimpses of life mostly because that's what keeps us going on the bad days and is literally the glue that keeps us from falling to pieces.

My husband wanted to get out for a little while, so with Gunny, our service animal in tow, and the kids taken care of, I got to spend a whole day out with my husband. I was so excited because "getting out" doesn't happen very often, let alone with my husband in an overly fantastic mood. He was looking for a particular magazine, so it was decided that we would hit a few book stores and a few others to pick up costumes for our younger children. I wasn't feeling too great, but I bit back the pain and thought to myself "come hell or high water, you are going to go and enjoy it" because I didn't want to miss out on this precious gift. We had a great day that was filled with conversation, laughter and smiles. There were some people we encountered that obviously have never been around a working service dog, and some people who made a point to stare and loudly discuss what could be wrong with my husband (I gathered they thought he was deaf) but we ignored it and kept right on going.

We enjoyed getting out of the house and just feeling semi-normal again. Due to extremely crowded situations on Sundays in most restaurants, we both decided that we would wait til later and have a late lunch, early supper. So after a few rounds of rock, paper and scissors....our favorite Mexican restaurant was where we ended up. Halfway through our lunch, a rather large group of my husband's past co-workers came in. He looked over and saw them, and I looked and said "hey there is so and so and the rest of the gang". He immediately withdrew. Almost like we were standing outside and the sunshine disappeared because a large cloud covered it. He was a beautiful flower that I literally saw shrivel up and die. I watched "him", the small and rare glimpse of my old husband, simply vanish in front of me. I became so angry that I thought I could feel my blood boiling. I tried to start conversations, but I never could get him to look up from his plate. I was so disappointed, hurt and infuriated that these people made my husband withdraw. I was angry because no one should ever make a soldier or Veteran hang his head in shame.

As we quickly finished up, we got our check and headed out. I stopped to say hello because I felt like we spent a lot of time with these people and well, it was the polite thing to do since we were forced to pass by them. Ten years of employment, ten years of being "family" and helping each other out. Many times my husband took holiday time, or swapped shifts to help another family out or to give a new daddy time with his child. We gave money to those who are in need when we didn't have it, we attended funerals, and even helped some of them move entire homes out of good will. Even through the hell we were enduring on our own, I bravely volunteered to walk miles searching through debris of devastation from tornadoes, seeking anything we could salvage for our "friends". When we walked their direction, you could have heard a pin drop at the large table they were sitting out. Everyone sitting, looked other directions or picked up their glasses and drank while keeping their eyes on the others...anywhere but looking at us. When I said hello, no one answered. No one could even look at us at all in the face. No one said anything......

My husband simply just walked towards the door with his head down, and while I was paying our check...I bit back the tears all while choking on rage. I bit back four years of sadness, disgust, fears and lost friendships. It was like being in high school cafeteria and everyone suddenly not speaking to you because of some rumor. Although the past four years we have been alone and slowly losing touch with the outside world, it didn't hit me like it did that day how many have shut their doors on us. It was as if we had suddenly become the bad guys. They acted as if we had some contagious disease like leprosy, and then the sadness hit me with full force. How much we lost and how alone we were. You could see some of them were just waiting until we left, to say something about us. When we walked out, I grabbed my husband's hand and said "Don't worry about it". I held my head high although I really wanted to hang as low as he did. However, I am not going to let my husband go through this alone and he knows that. So he gripped my hand back in mutual understanding and we left. I turned around to see them all laughing and talking. I tried my best not to let it bother me, but God it did. I don't know who it hurt worse, my husband or me. I think I felt hurt for both of us because he said "I am used to it".

I know much of this is happening to many of us and that being shunned from others happens on many levels and it happens to many of our Veteran's families and to Veterans themselves. We are already struggling through misconceptions, bad medical treatment or none at all, then coupling that with stigmas, labels and the media making a field day of those who use their disorders to excuse serious crimes. It becomes very tiresome to fight all of that on top of the already piling issues within the family and our Veterans. It can be from co-workers, close friends, acquaintances, and yes....even family members. I think the family issues hit harder than co-workers or friends. I know how it feels to have family not understand, not willing to educate themselves, and reinforce you with negativity and then judgment. I try to do the Christian thing and forgive, try to not judge myself, be willing to still stand when I felt my knees buckling. I often wondered if its just from ignorance, fear or just not having the experience. I know my husband has changed, they know he has changed...but I damn sure didn't need a reminder. It doesn't matter anyway because I thought friendship was for good and the bad times. I didn't realize it came with a clause or a closed door policy written for "just in case" times.

Negativity is not what I need to focus on right now, and I don't want to waste my time or effort to keep friends that were probably never friends to begin with. However, it tears you apart and leaves a mark on you. No matter how much you say you shouldn't be ashamed, you still can't help but feel that way. We have been turned away from friends, our unit, co-workers, some family but it never ceases to amaze me when they need something...how everyone wants to be friends once more. I feel those who want to talk about us behind our backs when we leave the room, for those who want to call my husband a lunatic, crazy, looney or sick in the head, just don't know. I know there is a huge difference in ignorance and stupidity, but with many we just won't ever be able to change any of their thinking.

My oldest son asked me later that Sunday evening, what was wrong with dad. I explained what had happened at the restaurant and he said "We are reading the Scarlet Letter in English, and now I know how she must have felt. Maybe instead of wearing a scarlet A, we should have PTSD and TBI embroidered on our shirts. Not much difference". I chewed on what he said all evening for a long time. I wondered looking back, whether standing up and forcing those in our areas to recognize issues such as these in returning Veterans, was a positive thing or negative. Did I make the right decisions by starting this blog? Did I make the right decision for my family to say "We are not ashamed. We are here. We bleed like you do and yes, we hurt the same way". Either way, the road was set...and it's a long hard road to walk alone. In all though, I don't think I made the wrong choices and maybe I am supposed to be here. I CAN hold my head up high because you know what? I did it on my own without anyone's help. I didn't depend on anyone else or asked anything more that I couldn't and haven't given to others. I made it the past four years and I am still standing. My spirit aches, my mind is in pieces, but I am still standing dammit. I am learning to find my own way, on my own conditions and am a better person for it.

I wonder if those people that shunned and shamed us will ever be able to really say that to themselves and it be the truth?

Ashamed

2011-10-20T07:32:00.000-07:00

I sat this morning trying to catch up on emails that so many of you have written in. I will hopefully get done with all that is required for the first step in the Medical Board process and have some more time to write. As I was reading this morning with my Superman Mug in hand, it struck me to the core at how many times one single word was found in a bulk of them. That word? Ashamed. Many of them are from Veterans in which much of their confessions astounded me but not in a horrible way but just in their forthcoming honesty. I know that many of you just needed an ear, a safe place to voice your issues, problems and maybe a response that someone does understand. Shameful though? No. I don't believe that there is something out there, that hasn't been told to me, shocked me or something I haven't seen in the travels with other bloggers or spouses/veterans. I would like to say first your confessions will always be safe with me, so please know with confidence that unless you tell me it's OK to ask or print, I will always read, respond and then delete. For the families that wrote in, I counted more than ninety-seven times I saw the word ashamed in your letters.

I wanted to take a few moments this morning to address this common sentiment of shame that you all feel. I know that there are things no one wants to say out loud. Things that either/or wants to keep behind closed doors but what is that really helping? Is it because you don't want others to know or is it just because you don't want to face it yourself? Is it better for you to hide behind the door of shame rather than talking about it? Many of you wrote that when speaking to your therapists or doctors, some subjects are just too shameful to bring up. Alright, I have to shoot straight from the hip here and ask "what the hell you are getting help for then if you are only going for parts of it?" I know such subjects as physical/verbal abuse, drugs, alcoholism, sex or the lack of it/addictions, erectile dysfunction, porn addictions, cheating, excessive spending, among many more are bitter pills to swallow and accept. Hell, it's hard for even me to write about some of these things but one thing I want all of you to remember is that we can't find help or seek the answers unless someone talks about it.

Out of all my posts on this site, the most popular posts are the ones about sex. That says to me that many of you are experiencing what I went through or worse, and that you are looking for answers. Many of you guys want to talk about problems with it. Sex to me, is just as important as the basic needs of food, water and air. As Humans, we require and will always need that nourishment of touch, love, feelings and intimacy. Speaking about it to your doctors might be hard, but you just got to ask yourself, am I depriving myself of this need? For my spouse, am I depriving her? What if it's something medically related and you are hurting yourself in the long run because you didn't say anything? When you leave the doctor's offices, do you feel any better than what you did when you went in? Many Veterans wrote in that your spouses don't understand, don't get it, are mad because you no longer want to make love to them. Many had the same response "It's not her". The thing you have to realize is that we need to understand what's going on and have the knowledge that its not us. If you aren't telling your spouse it's not them, how else are they supposed to feel or what did you expect them to think?

I have to tell each of you that for a year and a half, I was devastated. I truly thought there was something wrong with me. I wasn't attractive enough, or I wasn't making him happy. It turned out to be medications, and not me. I have to tell you that feeling of relief was enormous after he broke down and confessed...however, my confidence had deflated so long ago that I didn't know how to repair that and is something that I am still working on. I was hurt as well. I thought he could tell me everything and always had in the past. I was so relieved but at the same time, angry because he had put me in the corner for so long and let me think that it was my fault. Veterans, you have to talk to your spouses. You can always email here and tell me anything, but let's try this........

When you feel the need to email me and let the confessions fly because you feel more comfortable, carbon copy your spouse on it. Make an agreement with your spouse as some do on here. They write in with the agreement between the two that there will be no arguments, nothing said until you are ready and that your spouse just read. Spouses, honor that agreement. Some of you guys write so beautifully that it gives this Mistress the cold chills and your heartfelt words laced with honesty, truly does astound and sadden me. I feel like I am depriving your spouse of such words and as many of you know, I always suggest that you copy and send to them. They desperately need to see these words and hear your confessions. I think if you did, it would not only help them tremendously but you help yourself releasing just one of those demons of burden riding your back.

Addictions such as excessive porn usage is one of those topics that no one really wants to talk about but that's just part of it. Some turn to different things, and pornography is just another outlet. I can see why many spouses and Veterans feel ashamed about this but we have to talk about it. More importantly, you have to talk to your doctors about it. They can't help something they don't know about. If you feel like you can't and aren't comfortable with it, perhaps you can allow your spouse to come in and just talk to the therapist. Spouses, don't be judgmental, hateful or hard to get along with all while letting the flood gates open about everything under the sun. Just take one topic at a time, both of you decide this is what we are going to tackle today and then do it.

We are running in circles if we don't open up. We have the advantages our warriors before us didn't have and that's the internet and support along with acknowledgment of these disorders and all that goes along with it. When I sit here and think about what I want to write about, there are times when I don't want to talk about something. Then I stop and think to myself of one Vietnam wife who suffered in silence for twenty-five years and who told me "speak up or they won't hear you." I don't want to let our brothers and sisters down, so when I got to say something...by God I just say it. I also guarantee you that you aren't alone...trust me. I am responding to several emails today to see if I can pair up a couple of spouses with other spouses who are going through the same thing and same issues. Each of you are commenting you must be the only ones...you aren't.

Veterans, you have been through hell. No one will ever really know what you went through, what you saw, or what you did for our country. At the same time though, we can't help you go back and change any of it. I wish we could but we could never make it all go away. We can however, help you now on the battlefield at home. It was your brothers and sisters in arms before you that spoke up and who set the standards now. Let's pay it forward by speaking up now because you never know who you might helping. Might be a veteran of the past, a family of now, or a family of the next war. Never let that head hang in shame for the past. Don't be ashamed of what you are going through now as everyone copes differently. Spouses, same thing goes for you. Speak up, don't hide in shame. I want you to remember that every time you hide behind the door... there are five more knocking and looking for you. Open the door.

I am always here. There will always be an "Anonymous" button for the comments and my inbox is private. I do have a Facebook page now that just started with many Veterans and spouses who are looking for answers and have some advice to some of these topics. Stand up and be heard without shame.

I'm Not Ashamed,

Heading in The Right Direction

2011-10-05T07:49:00.000-07:00

This week has started out pretty good and with some positive notes changing the course of our recent direction. After four years of fighting, pushing, stressing and sunk hopes....we finally got the Line of Duty Injury form for my husband's Traumatic Brain Injury. This was one of our biggest challenges we faced as I declared war on the military, the VA and anyone else who wanted to say "sorry, not our fault". With this, and the four others...we are now embarking on the PEB to get my husband's medical retirement. It was a long battle filled with many worries, stress and leaving a wake of people pissed off in my path. The last LOD was a challenge filled with many doubts, fight and searching for anything, everything and everyone we could to prove several events happened.

When it came today, it was followed by a deep silence my husband and I could probably never explain to anyone. Four very very long and painful years. It was with mixed emotions that we looked over that last remaining document that was so damned important to everyone else regarding my husband's health. It had been one vicious cycle repeating itself. "Well we think this is what is going on, but without an LOD we can't give you disability rating.", "Without some type of records, we can't really treat what we don't know. Do you have an LOD?", "Well its this and that, but without proof we find that it wasn't combat or even military related". It was relieving that this part of the battle was won. I was told that I would never be able to do it, was said it couldn't be done, and many with good intentions took the challenge and gave up on us. I did it. I took on the challenge, sunk my teeth in, placed everything in jeopardy to not only fight but write about it, and I won.

It was an end to that continuous circle we had been running, the closing of one door but the sudden opening of many more, and the sigh of relief heard from my husband was one that I had never heard before. It was a monumental moment for me....one that found me wanting to do the happy dance, all while "We are the Champions" by Queen played in my head. I imagined myself running up the White House steps with papers gripped in my hands and the Rocky theme song playing in the background. Yeah...it was pretty big for me. Then for whatever reason, I stopped, looked once more to make sure it was all real...and started crying.

Tears would just not stop flowing and my hands would not stop shaking. For those that know me and my family's struggles and suffering, you might think that I would be overjoyed, celebrate and wanting to go and shove it under the nose of all those who told me I couldn't do it or would never be able to get any of his LOD's. However, I thought about all those who wouldn't be finding such joy. I read an article the other day on a website about how 1/3 of our military is coming home with these very issues and no medical treatment.

I so remember and it still echoes today in my mind "Don't worry about it. Do your job, take some Ibuprofen and the VA will take care of you when you come home". Ibuprofen wasn't the cure all Uncle Sam...trust me. I have been there as a family, to see a proud soldier with so much life in him, holding a gun to his head with tears spilling down explaining to me that he didn't want to be here. He didn't deserve to be here and telling me over and over "I should have died there". Ibuprofen didn't help any of us. In that same DOD article, many are going undiagnosed for years for TBI. PTSD if they are lucky will be held off as long as possible and that's if they don't get diagnosed with "Non military service connected Personality Disorder" first. National Guard and Army Reservists also have the issue of readjustment back into society and the civilian world, on top of medical problems that we can't get treatment for, and then thousands of us coming home with no LOD's because some were just too busy, too lazy and didn't do their jobs.

It then becomes second nature to defend their health, the demons riding their back get larger, heavier because then they start to question their own sanity, and then we must defend and battle for treatment because the paperwork wasn't there although testing results were. All while family and loved ones, stood by their side and helplessly trying to find any way possible to help them. I guess it was easier to throw our wounded to the side and know that for every one of them, there were more waiting to take their place. Were you too busy to pay attention? Didn't you care? Or was it just the fact that our military members have become so expendable that you didn't want to take the money out to step up to the plate and treat them like our military did for our country, Uncle Sam?

I can't take all the credit though. It took me four years of fighting, many long distance phone calls, thousands of hours of work, letters after letters, and then dealt with many people who placed our hopes high and then dropped us like we were suddenly contagious. It took me four years to find the right people who cared, had been in this position themselves and believe it or not....work for the military and that's their jobs. After calling each one yesterday and profusely thanking the caseworkers who battled with me for the past 8 months, I learned that most military members give up within one to two years and then they don't get their deserved and earned benefits, disability and then no treatment. They each told me I was persistent, never gave up and the military did indeed find their match within this little old moo-cow, small town woman who fought for her husband. I was happy because I won, but at the same time it was a bittersweet victory because I thought about all those who just gave up or never got treatment. I cried yesterday with tears spilling over the papers for all of us...all of us who went through hell and many still going through it.

So now with our final records, all of my husband's LOD's, validation and self-renewed strength...we are now embarking on the process of going through the Medical board to ask for medical retirement. I know it will be a long process, more than 260 days long and much I don't know about it. Just another hurdle to jump so I am not going to stress about it. I don't know what these LOD's mean for us other than validation for my husband and he can now hold his head up proudly, but we will see. I doubt that means any treatment or any difference in the VA healthcare system, but we now have the options of using MMSO (Military Medical Service Office) which was an option that wasn't available to us before. I have come this far, am not giving up just yet. If anything, it makes me want to fight that much more.

I thought my husband would have been overjoyed yesterday, maybe smile a little....but he just seemed so lost and small all of a sudden to me. He got teary and said "thank you, you did it. Maybe now they will believe me". I know it rehashed some hurt in both of us that we had no time to deal with, it opened up some wounds that we hadn't had a chance to nurse just yet from the past four years, and then just dealing with the finality of it all. I would gather that no one would understand what the hell I am talking about unless you had been where we have and been through all of this....but if you have, then you know.....you know exactly what I am talking about. I am hoping that this will place my husband's restlessness at ease, perhaps chase a few of those demons of wrong doing away....but I don't know. Seeing him so saddened yesterday and staring out at the window, made my heart ache. I wish I could take all of them away and would do so gladly just to see him smile and be happy....but all I can do is keeping going after each one and keep fighting.

For all those who helped me, Thank you. You said you wouldn't give up on us, and although I doubted you...you proved me wrong and you should be proud. I don't know if you will see this, but please know that my family thanks you wholeheartedly. Thank you for not giving up on us or finding excuses not to fight with me. I know you say it's your job, but it was more than that. For all my friends and fellow bloggers, thank you for always supporting me, encouraging me and picking my spirits up when I was down for the count. For those who are fighting for all of us and lobby for better treatment....keep going. The louder we are...the more we will be heard.

Finally Breathing Again,

When Old Wounds Don't Heal

2011-09-29T17:36:00.000-07:00

It's been sort of a rough week here. I am swimming in paperwork that I don't know much about, trying to figure our next move on the Social Security Disability denial/appeal and then Strep/Flu hit the house with full force on the little ones and myself. We have dealt with some issues of my husband's that have come like a small whirlwind and hit us unexpectedly, much of which has left me walking and stumbling blindly. A lot has happened in the past couple of weeks, and though I have shoved much under the rug over the last couple of years....seems like when we have a "spell" those old wounds open back up and man, do they bleed. Scars can be covered, eventually healing and fading....but when they keep being reopened...I don't think they ever truly heal.

The nasty sewage that spews forth from his mouth can be hurtful, the demands he places are not reasonable, paranoia can be so wrong and ludicrous that its almost laughable and there is no counterattack that I can launch to make him calm down. Some things he says, breaks my heart all over again. Just when I think I have things all pushed back inward and numbing myself once more, something happens and the past four years tumble out in one tangled mess breaking my already shattered heart into pieces. I end up going to bed and crying myself to sleep, or lying awake trying to sort out the mess in my head. I get so angry, so bitter, so damned resentful that I can barely stand to look at myself in the mirror some days. I am often ashamed of my own self....then, I am ashamed of him. Yes. There. I said it. Sometimes I am ashamed of him. I want him to be the man I loved, married and would have given the world to on a platter and that's gone. It didn't come back, it didn't come home in pieces..what was him is just dust in the wind that is scattered and lost forever. There are times where I get knocked to my knees so many times that I just can no longer stand. It's very hard to stand alone and then carry the weight of another constantly. It's not just my husband that I am carrying, but my children too. Lot of weight for one person that has been knocked down and buried many times.

I look back over the past years and think to myself "Does he not understand all the things I have given up and done for him?" I go through all the hurdles, the challenges, the obstacles that would have made some of the fiercest military wives yell RETREAT and, then not understand where he thinks I am the enemy. I understand the battlefield came home with him, but I have spent the past four years this October trying to make that battlefield greener. I sheltered him from the world, although the world was beating me on the back. I protected him from fear, from hurting himself, and from hurting others even when I was hurting so badly myself. I sought him refuge, help, safety and stayed on the defensive for four years all while battling my own inner wars.

I gave up sleep to watch over him as he tossed and turned yelling to a dying soldier in dreams. I held him as he woke up covered in sweat and tears, soothing the panic and the pain. I gave him light when there was darkness, took his hand when he was lost, and led him in the right direction. When he was sick, I nursed him back to health. When he cried, I wiped away the tears. When he was sad, I made him laugh. I have given him everything he wanted and still, it doesn't seem good enough to him. I gave him the push up to be on top of the world, while all was left for me was to brush off the dirt and footprints. I never let him stumble, didn't let him fall, and I never will. I just wonder if he knows while doing it, I am barely keeping myself up in the process? There is nothing short of laying my life down for him I think, that would change his point of view of me being the enemy.

I am sick, alone, scared, and lost....and he turned me away. There is no outstretched hand, no friendship, no comfort, no light, no soothing...there is just absolutely nothing. My health isn't that great, and sometimes I panic because I wonder what if something happens to me, would my family be ok? I can't get any sicker because I have no one to care for me. I shouldn't have to panic when the doctors start talking about surgeries. It's not because I am scared, or worried of the reasons why I need it....its because who will help me? I often wonder if I should pass tomorrow....would he even miss me? Would he realize then how much he lost? Or would he simply fill my shoes with another replacement? I don't want anything but love in return. What happened to them over there that keeps them from loving back?

You'd think I'd have given up by now. I don't know where the strength to keep going is coming from. It's a war within myself to really decide. Is it love for him? Or is it simply the challenges that I needed as a woman and a person to accomplish? Is it the combination of both? Is it the fight for all of the Veterans coming home because I refuse to let my husband become a statistic on the VA number list? Was it because my parents raised me to be a fighter despite the fears and I learned to fight for what is right? There are days where I have the fuel, but not sure where I am driving to. This past two weeks has absolutely sucked me dry and left me weak. I just don't have the strength in me to fight anymore.

Another dear friend of mine mentioned that too many people complained and needed to focus on the positives more in our lives living with the wounded or just in general. I agree. She has jumped many hurdles in her years and for that I admire her deeply. She is one of my heroes and although I am older than her, I look up to her. I wish I had half of her courage, stamina and positive outlook. It hurt today to see how positivity works for her and so many others. God, I am seeking that for myself. It's not from my not looking or even creating it. It just simply isn't there. Everywhere I turn in my home, the military, and the battles with the VA leaves me with more negatives than positives. When I want to celebrate a positive, my husband finds the faults. When I have my hopes up, one entity of the government knocks me down again. The military lets me down or our government shuts it doors in my face. Some days I wake up and think the only positive thing I have right now is I am alive, and my children are loved, happy and taken care of. I don't have the support, most of the other wives don't understand what I am going through, and somehow....I don't really fit in anywhere. Again, those scars keep opening up.

I often laugh when people look at me funny when I say my husband's injuries include but not limited to PTSD and TBI. Most of them, sadly, don't even know what these issues are or care to know. The others always have this struggle to find the words to say something that sounds apologetic. You can see it in their faces as if they can't decide whether "I'm sorry" is good enough to say to me? In all though, you can see the look on their faces like "What the hell is that? Is it contagious? Is he going to end up on the six o'clock news by talking a Walmart by hostage? What do I say that sounds remotely endearing enough to her?" It's ok. I don't expect anyone to have the perfect words, don't really expect you to understand, and I don't want your sympathy. I just want you to be aware our soldiers never gave up on the war long after they come home and that we as families are silently fighting along side of them.

I am struggling with myself these days, and wondering how to be everything I am supposed to for everyone when I can't even be myself for just me. I know this too....shall pass. They say when you need help, ask. I have asked. I have done everything but plaster it on a billboard sign on the highway. They say take time for yourself, but they don't say how. They say seek counseling but there is none. This is my only therapy and I simply needed to get it off my chest this evening and then let it go. Maybe some other spouse or veteran will know exactly what I am talking about.

Blaming the Melancholy on the NyQuil,

Train A Dog Save A Warrior: Gunny and Sarge

2011-09-25T09:14:00.000-07:00

Like many family members with Veterans of TBI and PTSD, we are constantly seeking anything and everything that we can get our hands on to help cope or ease some of the symptoms of our war torn veterans are experiencing. As many of you know, beginning in October of last year....my husband started slipping away. We made it through December just by a thread and then in January, the bottom fell out on my husband and he tried to commit suicide. Having to have him placed in long term hospitalization was one of the hardest things a spouse/family member could ever face and do alone. Like many of your emails from soldiers and family members that you send, I too felt helpless in watching my veteran slip further away from me although I was hanging on as tight as I could.

Now in my traveling through the great online world, Patsy Swendson, Founder of Penny's from Heaven, came across my path in several different ways but never in the form of a service animal. While I didn't know her personally, I knew of her and the great work she and her team has done in the form of therapy dogs. It's funny because sometimes I have my doubts in the big man upstairs but do firmly believe that he works in mysterious ways. After blogging, reaching out to fellow wives, and my fellow blogger and friend Gina (The Invisible Wounded)....I received a message that said "I can help you" from Patsy. I had my reservations, my doubts and although very educated in the subjects of service animals for PTSD; it took me several hours questioning my next move on making that call. We had been recently burned pretty badly not once but twice from another organization although we had more than the required medical documentation and references.

Best thing I ever did........

After speaking with Bart Sherwood, the Director of the T.A.D.S.A.W program, I not only felt at ease in what I was applying for but felt like someone actually cared about my husband and my family. After many months of being turned away, shot down, shoved aside, and no one caring....it was a breath of fresh air. The application process was easy so had my reservations because it was so simple. They proved me wrong though and after many many phone calls with Mr. Sherwood...it was like talking to an old friend. He took the time to get to know us as a couple, my husband as an individual, his struggles and, my family as a whole. After those several failed attempts through another organization, I found that I was absolutely thrilled with this organization. Small, close knit, and full of determination and hope....they not only granted our application but they have now become family to us. Through it all, the factor that sealed the deal with me was that they didn't care about what my husband did in Iraq. They never asked us if he killed anyone, expected his psychiatrist to release all doctor's notes or make any demands, or what he went through...they just focused their attention on what his needs now are and what our needs as a family were. You can't find that information about families like ours on an application or get to know them.

T.A.D.S.A.W. program is relatively new beginning only about a year ago and built from the therapy dog programs already in place. PFH takes dogs that have been thrown away, tested and if they show intuition, promise and willingness to work; they are rescued from shelters in Texas for a variety of purposes such as therapy, companion and service work. To date, they have trained five PTSD service animals for wounded veterans like my husband with intense and thorough training. Currently, there are 30 to be trained this year and applications coming in from all over the world. Setting goals for not only the dog but the veteran, they took on a wish list of things that a normal person would find humorous but for us, challenging. This "wish list" for us was as simple as just being able to go to Walmart for groceries, go and eat at a restaurant without foaming at the mouth or flipping out, and my children had the one wish to go to the movies with their daddy. As I said, very simple, ordinary things that most people take for granted but for Veterans with such issues....can be as challenging as climbing Mt. Everest.

Pairing the perfect Battle Buddy for my husband was a thorough process and one that I do believe was a match made in heaven. We didn't care what kind of dog it was, didn't matter where he came from as long as he was good for my husband, my kids and our other small dog. "Gunny" was after long deliberation, the perfect match they made. "Gunny" was actually scheduled to be euthanized when he was rescued by Patsy the founder. Shortly after, he became sick and was diagnosed with distemper. Most dogs do not survive this illness but through love, patience and many prayers...."Gunny" survived and is now a full working service animal and in 100% top notch health. Being the fighter he is, and being the fighters we as a family were....it was decided that "Gunny" would be joining our family. Looking back, I know that decision was very hard for Patsy to make and I know she misses him so. However, I think Patsy was supposed to find him, love him back to health and then our paths crossing.

The months went by with phone calls and "Gunny's" training with the Trainers. He surpassed his testing and before we knew it, we were on the plane to San Antonio, TX where the foundation is located. I was only able to spend a week there with my husband due to our children but what an amazing experience we had. Now for those who are interested in any service animal programs, training is pretty intensive. It's go, go and go. You, as the Veteran and the family member, have got to have the willingness to work because service animals just can't be given to you and expect to know it all. Michelle, our trainer, will push you as hard as she can without cracking a whip because the more you show your emotions, the better the dog will be able to handle such issues as they arise. Michelle had the patience of Mother Theresa pushing us as hard as we could go, but in the end? Totally worth it. We liked the fact the training involved being out in places such as Walmart, airports, restaurants, and all the places my husband normally would be frothing at the mouth just thinking about. Yes, they even took my husband to Chuckey Cheese's in which that place would drive any of us crazy!

I really don't like you sneaking up on Sarge like this!

It feels like "Gunny" has always been with us from the first. He has the patience, the will to fight and never falters even when tasks involve a ton of people, stress and change of routines. "Gunny" is part of the family now and spoiled rotten. He plays hard and works even harder. The commands he learned are amazing and unless you have actually been around one of these dogs, you will never comprehend what dogs are doing for our Wounded Warriors. I remember one training day in the San Antonio, TX airport in which I was having issues walking with my health problems and legs. I lagged behind and started to choke up a little, swallowing and biting back the tears. It was because I realized for the first time in almost four years, my husband was walking ahead of me watching "gunny" as he was walking in an S shaped fashion clearing the path at a 3 foot length of people around them. For the first time in a long time, I could breathe. I felt many emotions that day; hope, encouragement and then I wondered if my husband would need me anymore as he always did. I felt so silly but Michelle told me this was common for us spouses as we are struggling with that sudden cut of dependency. I walked behind them and I really just swelled with pride as my husband and "Gunny" walked that airport like they owned the place. My husband was nervous and of course, panicky...but not once did he stop to look for me which in itself was a miracle.

Flying? Yeah, I got this!

After a good length through the terminal, "Gunny" looked behind to see if I was there. He started walking in front of my husband and started to slow down causing my husband to slow his paces. I realized then, "Gunny" was waiting on me as if he knew I was struggling to keep up but also was hurting that I was being left behind. Even today, no matter where we are or the situation we are in...."Gunny" always waits for me and gives me this look as if he is saying "I got your back and I am waiting on you".

Having a service animal is a challenge in today's society and as most owners of them say, it's a double edged sword. However, we find even with the staring, the stupid comments and questions, it's worth to see my husband have the willingness, courage and faith to get back out a little. It's not a cure, and it's not going to take all the bad things away but somehow it has made things easier and brought our family back together a little. We recently went to Panama City Beach, FL in which my husband was given a proper Coming Home along with 25 other couples. Being the secluded and homebodies we are, the amount of people was a bit overwhelming for us but "Gunny" never faltered.

We have now had him as part of our family since the end of July and it does feel like he has always been here. I can't imagine a day that goes by without him nearby. He is not only good for my husband in many ways, but good for me as well. He knows the days where I am sick and hurting, resting his head close or on the places that hurt me so badly. I have woken many nights to find him sitting on the bed and watching over my husband and will do so as long as it takes my husband to go to sleep or barking to wake him up from nightmares. The more he is with us, the more he picks up on routines, knows our behaviors and knows just the right moment to love on us as if to say "It's ok, I'm here". "Gunny" is so intuitive that there isn't a day that we aren't surprised by his actions or a new thing he has picked up. He seems to know when my youngest son isn't feeling well, and just recently alerted us to quite an aftershock of the recent earthquake. He jumped up and ran around in circles, barking at us which is something he just doesn't do. We could not for the life of us figure out what he was doing! Shortly after his spell, the house and windows began to rattle. Scared me so badly as we have never experienced that before.

Now in Panama City, "Gunny" was quite the love hound taking in all the love and affection from fellow wounded warriors that were with us there on the retreat. I noticed watching him that he seemed to draw attention from some of the guys and how it brought my husband around to talk about his issues and what he went through with these guys and how they shared their stories. For my husband to talk to others period was amazing to see and man, was I proud. He had the confidence and willingness to share his problems with the others and I believe it was because "Gunny" was there all along. To see these heroes love and pet on "Gunny" was a beautiful thing to see as well as having them say "Get a picture of us will you?". Made my heart swell in so many ways that it was very humbling to be a part of.

Gunny was particularly fond of this young Wounded Warrior

The T.A.D.S.A.W. program is in need of help to keep going. What started out small has become such a popular thing that they are experiencing worldwide cries for help just like they heard mine. On the average currently, most service animal or therapy dog organizations are about a 2-4 year wait. Penny's From Heaven want to be able to help any soldier or Veteran (no matter what war you served) who asks for it. There are so many loving dogs out there who are being thrown away and I think....makes them work even harder because they were saved once too. "Gunny" isn't a full blooded dog, and God only knows what he is actually mixed with but to us? He is an angel in disguise flying close to the ground and an answer to a long awaited prayer I have had. From start to finish, training a dog and getting through their ADA recognition, Good Canineship testing and everything else that goes with it, is approximately $2500.00. Today, that may not seem a lot for some and for people like us...might as well be a million dollars. What started out as a small TX based organization for TX wounded warriors, is now spreading to other states and countries for wounded veterans. They are looking for additional sponsors for wounded warriors, sponsorships for their therapy dogs and help getting the Veterans there, a place to stay and be taken care of for three weeks. Based in TX, they are also looking for volunteers, foster care for dogs awaiting training, and help with the food, lodging and other incidentals that occur while the soldier/veteran is there training.

Chaplain Choi of the Sixth Spaders REALLY loved Gunny!

Statistic wise, I know we have a TON of readers who read this blog, share and pass along. I am hoping that each of you might be willing to pass on this organization's information and be willing to drop a few dollars. If you own a business and are looking for a way to help our Wounded, this would be a fantastic way to do it! If you are an organization, an FRG, a support group...have a bake sale, car wash anything! Even 10.00 from many would make a difference in the life of a soldier/veteran and their families. Many other non-profits are always looking to pair up or pitch in, and this is one that could use the help and financial assistance. I have included a link HERE that breaks down the cost and sponsorships but even if all of us just saved that one trip to McDonald's or miss one Starbuck's coffee and dropped five dollars, quite a few of us could help save the life of a soldier or veteran in need. We all have talked about the fact that 18 suicides a day occur among our returning veterans. This I know, stunned and outraged us all. Statistically a year, an average of 9.6 million dogs are placed in shelters across the United States with many of them ending in euthanization. What a difference we could all make if we could take an animal that no one wanted and save the life of a wounded warrior.

I challenge each of you to give back to those who gave us all. It's easy for us to sit back and shed a tear for those who felt there was no hope left and against all odds, took their own lives. Somewhere out there, there is an animal who just longs for a home and love. Let's pair them up and let them save each other. I want to thank Penny's From Heaven and the T.A.D.S.A.W. program. There isn't a day where "Gunny" hasn't walked the civilian battlefield side by side, with my husband and I, leading the way. Every day I see my husband smile, have a purpose and a drive to keep going. That has been the greatest gift anyone could have ever given us and for that, we are forever thankful and indebted to you. You are our family now just as any T.A.D.S.A.W family has become to us. You should be proud of all you have done and your accomplishments but more importantly know that you saved so many from sinking when all doors were otherwise closed.

You can find more about Penny's From Heaven on their website along with mailing address, Paypal information and applications. I have included links to a recent story in the newspaper about this organization and service animals for PTSD. If you are interested in applying, or know of businesses or you are an organization that would like to help, you may find the necessary information here.

Two Peas in a Pod-Perfect match for our other dog, Taco

My favorite photo-Who Saved Who?

Gunny didn't like the waterfall nearby.

Much About Nothing I Am Supposed to Write About

2011-09-21T06:30:00.000-07:00

It's been an overwhelming last couple of days. We recently just got back from a trip to a Warrior Beach Retreat for Wounded soldiers in Panama City Beach, FL. As many know, taking a vacation usually requires you to have some down time when you come home. This particular retreat was overwhelming emotionally, patriotically, and well just being around so many people which we normally aren't. Most of it was just seeing that much patriotism in one spot just for my husband which was a part of our lives we didn't get. It was somewhat of a closure for us. My husband did very well up until Saturday night and then started to slip a little. Sunday's flight was completely horrific as we were treated like garbage by the clerks, steward and stewardesses aboard US Airways in regards to my husband's service dog, Gunny. It was humiliation, pointed out by the crew in front of all that were on the plane and then disregarded of our rights to Federal Law. By the time we got home, my husband was in full PTSD mode with the ranting, raving, foaming at the mouth and myself waiting for his head to start spinning all the way around. I had wished on that flight that I had something to knock him upside the head with!

We hadn't heard a single thing from Social Security since we applied in February and our advisers and coordinators were much under the impression of "hey, no news is good news". Now in my mind, and from reading other stories...I knew we would be denied Social Security on the first try. In my heart though, I guess I was just praying to the big guy upstairs to give us just one good push forward. Seems these days we take one step forward and get knocked thirty back. You get up, you dust your knees off and then you keep right at it. I am struggling to get back up again this year. If we had his social security, much of the financial stresses would be off both of us and we could breathe a little bit easier. I am overwhelmed, overworked, ill, tired and frustrated. We came home to find the much anticipated letter from Social Security letting us know that my husband was denied. Insert all hell breaking loose . We just wanted for once, to get our heads above water and be able to breathe.

To make matters worse, our car which we left at the airport....had a hard time starting and the headlights are out on them. Don't know what's wrong with it, but only the parking lights work on it. After the all day trip of flying and the issues US Airways gave us, it was just too much. I realized I felt so good in Florida although he had some spells, that I really didn't want to be back home. I wanted to run away and not get in the car or go home. I know that sounds horrible, but as soon as we pulled on our road my stomach began tightening up, the butterflies turned into a swarm of angry hornets and my heart was racing. It's not that I didn't want to see my children or be home again...I just didn't want to come back to a home that's filled with stress, paperwork or phone calls.

I know taking care of my husband is hard. It's even harder when you have to navigate, fight tooth and claw with the government getting earned benefits, but damn....is it hard when you don't know what you are doing. Maybe I am too controlling but I have learned from past experiences in my life to have back up plans and never count on that first plan to work out. It's not me being negative, or Miss Debbie Downer....it's just what life has taught me and working with such entities as Social Security, the VA, and the military....you just learn to guard any hopes you have because they can become so easily crashed. After so many downed planes of hope, you begin to not show any emotions, have any type of hope and always expect the worst when it comes to them. Many of us spouses always wonder why our Veterans are like this with PTSD and/or TBI. I think personally we are becoming more and more like them, we just don't realize it.

I am struggling to keep up with the jargon of all this paperwork and much of it not making sense. The military has placed many demands on me that my health right now and my sanity just can't keep up with. I work all day and the mountain of paperwork just seems to keep growing. There is so much paperwork on our end that it is indeed very overwhelming because you can't just pick a spot on a fast moving train and proceed to jump on. On advice from a dear friend, I made a list yesterday to start marking things off and only do so many things a day....but that list is two pages long! In the past, almost four years this October, all I have done is fight, fight and fight some more. Now that I am not having to fight as much, I am having to wait, watch and pay attention to every little move they make on this chessboard of our lives. Adding to that, I am having to depend on complete strangers to have our "best interests at heart" and from past helpers, that has proved to burn us quite badly. Some of it is now out of my hands, some of it is solely in my hands and other parts are just "wait and see". I have no back up plans, no safety nets and have used all my aces that I held up my sleeve to get to this point.

We have more advisers than most I know, which should be a good thing and am appreciative. I find though that sometimes I often leave off the conference calls with more questions than answers, being rushed, and under so many deadlines. If they only knew how much stress I was under and panicking......wonder if that would make a difference? I really don't like the terms "this is a risk we will have to take" because this isn't their lives we are screwing with....it's ours. Risks are just something we can't afford to take because if that risk coin lands on the wrong side....we will lose everything from home, to cars, to just our entire lives. Sometimes I wish that some of them would just have a little sympathy and just a little understanding that the demands they are placing on me and all the confusion is literally eating me from the inside out.

The past weekend at the retreat, which I will write about later when I come up for air, was wonderful. I had the honor of meeting 48 other women who had more strength, courage and determination it radiated off of them. I felt weird being there because we are a Reserve family and our challenges are different, but they didn't seem to mind that. I really felt with many of them, I had no right to complain because their husband's injuries far surpassed my husband's but it didn't feel like anyone played the wounded rank card and for that, it was a beautiful experience to have. It was a busy five days filled with excitement, joy, fun and surprises. Saturday night though proved to be a sign that my husband was overwhelmed, exhausted and "The Beast" came out once more. I have to admit to you all that this strong Mistress fell apart and no matter what I did to calm myself and him down....my knees were knocking so hard you could hear it. You would think after this long, I would be used to these outbursts, the temper, the "shadow warrior" coming out but I just am not. Do you ever really get used to it?

My husband didn't throw anything, didn't scream or yell....but had this eerie, calm, threatening, and totally scary tone of voice. His pupils were dilated so much that it was like looking at solid black eyes, he was smiling and crying at the same time and my God the words that came out of his mouth were so hurtful. We had such a good time that day that I don't know what set him off. Nothing happened during that day, nothing was said to make him upset, we were just having fun. Just something as soon as we walked in back at our beach house, changed within him. We let his service animal to run outside and play a little to get the energy off and to use the bathroom. Somewhere between locking up for the night and heading upstairs, he flipped. His emotions were all over the place, everything was my fault, everything that I did was wrong and the look on his face was of pure hate. I can handle his manic moods, his ups and his downs, but when his face changes like that, it doesn't look anything like him and quite frankly....that scares me more.

Suddenly my smiling laughing and in good mood husband turned into this dark, malicious thing that I didn't recognize. The fear that settles over you is as heavy as a wet wool blanket you just can't shake off. Before I knew it, he was yelling at me about my having power of attorney papers and that I was going to commit him again. He demanded that I present them right there and then, even knowing we weren't home. The food that we had eaten over the weekend which I had nothing to do with, was poisoned by me and I was trying to kill him. I wanted him dead because I would get all this money supposedly. I was going to leave him and he would kill me before I ever got the chance to get out the door. I was shocked and not really sure what to do at that point. All I could do was let him rant and rave, hoping like hell he would get it all out and be done.

So many hurtful things and then the laughter at me when I started to sob. I was shaking so bad, I could barely stand up without my knees wanting to buckle beneath me. I tried to keep him calm and trying to get him to understand that he was having a bad spell and no one was hurting him. My husband's service animal who was downstairs eating his supper finally decided to come up and immediately jumped up on him barking which was surprising as he hasn't done that before. My husband stopped for a minute, looked at Gunny, then walked to the bed and was out like a light. My husband's dog and I kind of stood there like "What the hell just happened" and because I was still worked up...went out and sat outside for a long time with his head in my lap and me crying. All I could think to myself, is how much longer can I keep going? I was so scared I didn't sleep a wink that night. Even when I layed down, our dog tried to snuggle as close as he could get without getting right on top of me. I guess he knew how terrified I was and I was grateful for the attention he gave me.

My husband didn't really remember much the next morning but saw my fear and hurt. I explained what happened and he didn't say anything. However, in "share time" that morning on the last day of the retreat, he stood up in front of fifty other people and apologized although he doesn't remember most of it. He just remembers coming in, brushing his teeth and his head hitting the pillow. I knew his apology was sincere, and he has never ever done that before so I knew it took a lot of guts to stand up in front of his new friends to admit his PTSD got the best of him and that his shame was great...but damn those words. They just keep echoing in my head. How do you keep helping someone and stick with it when the PTSD Beast hates you so much? When do we as family members ever really stop becoming the enemy?

Name calling I can deal with. Other things hurt to the quick and still stings long after they are said and done. I didn't realize until January happened this year how many scars I had and how they open and bleed so badly each times these spells hit. I am trying to be strong, keep my chin above water and as someone once told me....keep swimming. It's just times like this where I feel like the lifelines I am grasping a hold of, is slipping. If I go down....he goes with me. It's a heavy heavy burden we are all carrying.

Seeing the letter from Social Security absolutely ripped my heart out and stomped it into pieces. I expected the disappointment, I really did. It was the frustration of what the letter said that upset me so. The letter read that "according to VA medical records, your PTSD has gotten better with medications, therapy and inpatient treatment", "TBI was not treated by the VA so therefore it must not be as bad as you claim it to be", "You walked into the doctor's appointment so therefore your legs must not be hurting that bad nor your back." "Total decision of denial was based on all medical records and we find that you can find a job that is less demanding and work with your disabilities." I don't know whose medical records they were reading, but it wasn't my husband's. I wondered if they missed the letters from his doctors stating they will NOT release him to work or drill and that in their professional opinion he is permanently and totally disabled as well as unemployable.

I really wanted Social Security to have stayed the night with me on Saturday and feel that same fear, that absolute hate that my husband's beast spewed from his mouth, to see the huge waves of emotions he showed in less than a minute. I want them to see the crying and the laughter because it truly is like watching a horror film unfold in front of you. I want them to hear those words and then be in my position as being the only person that is keeping him from drowning in these churning waters. I wonder if their decision would have changed? I really would love to call them and say "Guess what Dumbass....our VA doesn't have a TBI clinic which is why he hasn't been treated!" All that work, all that time, all that stress and trying to do it on my own.....failed. So then my heart started panicking, racing ninety miles an hour and pounding out my chest. I was so afraid this would set him off, or that January would happen all over again. I gave my son the look of " be prepared to run with the little ones" but my husband instead, just sat down with his head in his hands and said "what more do they want?".I myself have struggled trying to figure out what I did wrong, although I know in this old head of mine that its just standard procedure.

Yesterday was a better day for my husband. It wasn't for me. I am still struggling with sleep, nightmares and the past spells replaying in my mind over and over again. I try to shake them but they just keep coming back. Add all this other stuff rolled up in one big giant ball and I feel myself cracking a little too. I am writing all this out because several emails spoke about being alone when these "episodes" happen. You aren't alone, I promise. I have been there and done that many times. This post may not make sense to anyone, but wanted to write it out....let it go and try to be rid of it. This is part of the war that Uncle Sam doesn't want you talking about but it happens to all of us every single day of our lives. I am going to fight the Social Security with an appeal although unsure how to do it. I will knock the dirt off my pants and try once more to stand my ground....but my heart is breaking into pieces because I am hurting this much and Uncle Sam just doesn't care. Somehow....someway, he is going to have to.

Trying to Find My Way,

What I Learned On The Cracked Streets of New York

2011-09-07T07:51:00.000-07:00

This past June, I was invited to attend a trip to the Big Apple (That's New York for you non-city slickers) for a Writer's Guild sponsored by the Wounded Warrior Project. I haven't had a chance to blog about that just yet because I am still trying to figure out how I want to write that up. Yesterday was a bad day for me. Not sure why.....wasn't anything horrible, nothing particularly devastating, anything possibly catastrophic, life changing or alien invasion...but just a rotten day followed with tears which I hate. Some days just get to be so much that I get frustrated and angry, which in turn leads this Mistress to turn on the water works to get it all out.

So last night after another evening of silent conversation on my husband's part, and only TV for company...I decided to go soak in a hot tub and turn some music on. I am pretty eclectic in my music choices so last night just seemed like an evening for sappy, slide guitar, down and out, classic country music. While sitting in the tub thinking about my day and how things just weren't getting easier, the song Hello Vietnam by Johnny Wright came on. For those that have never heard this song, I put it here for you.

While soaking in my scented, and only private get away... the sound of the music and lyrics made my thoughts linger back to New York City. Now this small, moo-cow town, semi-misplaced, semi-country girl indeed experienced one hell of a culture shock heading into the city that never sleeps. Between the airport, driving into downtown Manhattan in a cab (which by the way could give you PTSD just from the traffic and the way folks drive out there) and just the jittery nerves of meeting other women like me, had me wound tighter than Dick's hat band! It was go go go from the start, and with the constant traffic and sounds of the city....I found myself missing those early hours with quiet, my moo cows and roosters crowing in the distance. My hotel was very nice, sitting right across from Madison Square Gardens which is something I had only seen on TV and movies.

Since I take my coffee intravenously in the mornings, the one tiny, tea bag coffee filter in a one cup maker just wasn't going to do it for me. I rose way too early on Saturday morning and went in search for the elusive large suicide cup of coffee. As if God was on my side, it led me around the corner where angels started singing and bright lights illuminated in the form of a Dunkin Doughnuts sign. So in the early hours of the morning, I sat outside and watched the food vendors set up for the day, businesses washing off the sidewalks in front, the trash being set out and just listened to the bit of silence that New York City could offer me.

I must have one of those faces that always attract people to come and talk with me. My husband says it is clearly stamped on my forehead and as of late, I am starting to believe that. I met several interesting characters from dancers that hurried by for early practice on Broadway, several prostitutes who discussed their evenings with me and how much they made, and the transvestite who spent much of the morning with me talking about style, the night life and how I was missing out on many things by being in the center of moo-cow town. Man, did he love New York. No one interested me more though than an older man in a wheelchair sitting in front of the NY Fire Department, which was across from a soup kitchen where many, early in the mornings, lined up.

It started out as him staring at me, me staring back and me thinking to myself "Great, he is going to ask me for a dollar and I don't have a bit of cash on me". I don't know why I do it...I guess its in my nature, but some people just give off a different vibe to me and if a homeless person asks for money, I give them a dollar or two if that vibe is good, sometimes more. Some people have a wrong vibe and I don't. It's very hard these days not to turn a blind eye for those that don't help themselves and in today's society, we have become hard, selfish and cynical. This homeless man sitting in a wheelchair was indeed dirty, scruffy, and probably someone my friends, family and most definitely husband would have jumped on me for even thinking of giving money to, all while yelling at me about how my heart is too good or how I am naive....so I tried to keep my line of vision on "Monique", my new found transvestite, coffee drinking, buddy. At one point in our conversation, "Monique" looked at me, noticing that I was looking in this guy's direction and said "That's Mike. Nice fellow he is. Lost his legs in service. He isn't scary or going to rob you, sometimes we have coffee in the mornings or I will get off work and bring him by a bagel with lox and cheese which is his favorite." So then he whistles to get Mike's attention and slowly but surely, Mike rolls down those bumpy sidewalks to where we were standing.

"Monique" introduced us and Mike wasn't scary at all. After hearing many horror stories about holding on to my purse, keeping my eyes straight ahead walking through the city, I was a bit nervous hanging out with such characters on a street corner. Rough around the edges, needing a shave, I guessed his age to be about 60 or a little older. His face was etched with lines that I think only the horrors of war could cause, life on the streets could only add to, and the greenest eyes that held many untold stories. I excused myself to get another cup of coffee and decided we all needed a round at 5:15 in the morning. So with our Dunkin Doughnuts coffee, we all talked about the weather, the city's trash, the fact that not ALL people with Southern accents are from Texas, we somehow got into the discussion of war. You see, that scruffy man was a Vietnam Veteran who served between 1968 around the time of the Tet Offensive and extended his tour of duty to take advantage of the 30 day leave time the Army offered in between tours. Mike told me during that 30 days, he married his high school sweetheart, buried his mother and watched his father drink himself into an oblivion before he went back to Vietnam. During the war, Mike said he lost a brother, two cousins, and somewhere between South Vietnam and the green green jungles...he lost himself.

So in between sips of our fresh hot coffee, we talked about war and the after effects. The hour I spent with him, he seemed very open and wanting to talk as I was willing to listen. The time flew by and I explained I had to hurry up and shower before I had to report in for our bus picking us up. He said "You better run doll and I will be here same time same place if you would like to have coffee with me again". I said "It's a date!". The whole day went by in a blur but my mind kept lingering back to what Mike said. Perhaps it wasn't the words so much as the emotions behind them, the loss and the far away look I so recognized in my husband's eyes. I often comment that we as spouses truly lose our husbands overseas but have we ever stopped to think about how much they lost in themselves? I guess it was a good wake up call for me, reminding me that I wasn't the only person who lost in my marriage.

So the next morning with three much needed alarms and a wake up call to meet my coffee date, I threw on my clothes, grabbed my room key and went to have coffee at 4:30 in the morning with Mike and "Monique" on the corner of 7th Avenue. When I came out the side door, there they both stood, which I have to tell you is a very very odd site to see that early! Here was this man in a hot pink, tube topped, sequined dress and stiletto heels along with a Vietnam Vet in an old Army jacket and pins, armed with smiles to see me. So after our "good mornings", and the same chit chat on weather; the discussion led back to the Iraq war and problems once more. So after my story, Mike told me his.

After he returned home wounded from an ambush and surviving an explosion causing him to lose both legs, he lost his father shortly after. He went on to tell me "but in the loss of life there was another brought into the world with the birth of my daughter Alison; with only one L mind you". He spoke about his wife who was the love of his life and how having a daughter changed it all. However, he was still young, just came back from war and was wounded on top of everything else. He felt he wasn't good enough anymore having lost both legs. His wife was working two jobs trying to pay the bills and keep them above water, and the VA just kept pushing him out on pain meds to the point he was addicted. Months went by he said, and he felt he had disappointed her, let her down and failed her and their child. He pushed her away by staying out and drinking himself to sleep. After a year rocked by with many nightmares and problems being home, his wife left one day with their daughter and he never saw or heard from them again. After several years fighting with the VA, he just gave up trying to get his full disability and trying to fight the system.

He eyed me closely and asked me "So you are probably thinking, this poor man. You probably want to know why I am homeless waiting on the soup kitchen aren't you? Thinking I ain't got nobody to blame but myself don't ya." I said "No sir...I understand, I really do". He looked at me up and down and said "I gave up because I didn't have the courage to fight anymore. The fight was over and I spent every day fighting over there. I didn't try hard enough when I came home and I didn't try with my wife. Don't blame her, she had every right to go. God, did I love that woman. After that though, there wasn't anything left for me to fight for at all. I lost my home and I chose to stay out here on the streets. Aft'all, a home isn't a home without love, a family and a woman who will stand beside you through the hard times. I don't want no one to feel sorry for me, because I made my choices. I got myself cleaned up from the meds, I got some treatment and then I found God somewhere between Broadway and Lincoln Square." He chuckled over that as did I. "I am happy out here and I am a reminder for those who forgot us. I don't want anyone to thank me, but I want everyone to remember that there are many who lost, for them to have it all. Some losses are our own damn fault, but some Uncle Sam just handed to us and said here you go. You younger folks have much more than we ever did, don't squander it away. Learn a lesson or two from this old man and make it worth while. Fight like you ain't ever fought before and when you get done, put the boxing gloves down and love like hell."

I chewed on that for a minute or two, and in silence we sipped our coffees and watched the city start to gear up. I asked him "Do you have any advice for me about my husband?" He sat a minute and said "yeah 'a do. Have patience. It's hard, but he's in there somewhere. It's murky, its dark and there are demons riding his back all day...but he is still there. Love him no matter how much he pushes you away because he is only trying to punish himself. He depends on you cause you are all he has left. You got the only light on to show him the way and a part of him knows that. Fight for him, because he doesn't have the strength to keep going some days. When he gets stubborn or won't help himself? Stick a boot up his ass and let him know you aren't going to give up on him but you're not gonna tolerate his giving up either. If he is going to the VA and taking his meds? It means he is trying and probably just for you and your kids. Remember that. Lot you don't know, doll, about what goes on in war.... but a lot he doesn't know what you go through either. Both of you are just two lost people trying to hang on tight and not lose your way. One day, he will find his way as you will too. Have faith in God, cause he may take you for a ride but there's a reason. It's not your plan, it's his and he will let you know as you go along. Sometimes you just miss the message".

So after some tears from me, and a little "something in his eye" he said...he shooed me off for my day with the girls in the big city. I told him I wasn't leaving til the next morning but he said he had elsewhere to be. He would be around today but it was time for him to move on as he was tired of the same city blocks and the sites to see. Late Sunday evening I stepped out to get some shirts and saw him across the street. I had purchased a couple of the typical cliche t-shirts at a nearby store with I <3 NY on them for my kids, and rather than spend the rest of my money on stupid souvenirs, bought him a 25.00 gift card to use at Dunkin Doughnuts and a bagel with lox and cheese.

I ran across the street to give it to him and to say thank you for the advice. I wanted to let him know that I haven't forgotten. He looked inside the bag and said "My favorite!" and got all teary eyed. I told him to have coffee on me wherever he was in the city and don't give up. I appreciated everything he lost and did for us, so it wasn't for nothing. He said "You don't owe me a thing. I should be thanking you for putting up with my grouchy old ass. It was nice meeting someone from Texas (said with a wink). Now get on out of here and go do something fun woman! Remember to keep your chin up, spine straight and fight...you can do it." He smiled with a crooked grin and said "Go on now and leave this old man alone!"

I walked away then and joined the rest of the girl's in the adjoining restaurant next to the hotel that night. I learned a lot from my experience in NYC from the writer's guild, especially since I discovered I can write more than just about PTSD and TBI which is something I wanted to do way before this adventure and life ever started. However, I learned a lot more from a homeless man living on the streets than I ever did from a book, or an online forum, or from the VA. It reminded me of what I was fighting for and for what purpose. It reaffirmed my small hope I hang on to that my husband is still in there somewhere and finally, gave me a newer strength.

When I got back home, I told my family of my coffee drinking buddies on the corner of 7th avenue, but didn't go into details. The buildings, traffic and sites through my adventure along with my teaching a Nigerian Cab driver how to properly say "Ya'll " was enough to be told. The next morning bright and early, I had my coffee with my moo-cows and it seemed strange. I missed my New York buddies. As I sat last night in the tub thinking about the day, the water works finally starting to ease off, and fighting off that nagging feeling of "maybe I should just leave and never come back" that song came on and it just reminded me of Mike somewhere in NY. I had to smile because it played right at the moment I was thinking that one little nagging option. Probably just by chance it came on, but I like to think that maybe it was for a reason it came on just at the right time and at the right place.

I am going back in November to NYC to rejoin the girls at the Writer's Guild one more time, and I sincerely hope that I can find my coffee drinking buddy. I wanted to share, as what Mike said, weighed heavily on my mind since last night and carried through this morning's coffee ritual with my cows. I am not sure if you will see the point in my story or not, but maybe someone will. I guess I am trying to say that sometimes it's easy for all of us to lose sight on what we really have, good or bad, and get caught up in the world of our wounded military, the VA and the government. Sometimes, we all just need to stop....and simply smell the coffee. I didn't find God on the corner of 7th Avenue, but I did find a message.............

Chin's Up, Spine is Straight, and Boxing Gloves are on Mike,

State Assistance and A Wounded Warrior Family

2011-09-05T09:30:00.000-07:00

On Facebook and other social feed sites, you will always see from time to time, a question posted about different things like "What have you learned through all this?" when it comes to living with Wounded Warriors. Being the long winded person I am, I always struggle with just one answer, trying to find the right one that sums it all up. I think out of all of this? My answer is simple. You can't depend on outside help and you have to do it all yourself. The hardest thing of all is not just having to deal with a husband who now has become a second child, but also dealing with all who are involved such as the Army and the VA. Let's face it, living on disability alone is hard. When you go from two incomes down to disability, its to say the least, difficult. This year has brought on some serious financial difficulties starting with my husband's "bottom falling out". With that, he lost his job, is not allowed to return to drill which in turn has turned into a falling domino effect with our checkbooks and our lives. We wiped out our savings last year to keep our home and make up for lost time that my husband wasn't able to work or get paid for.

Being the biggest penny pincher ever, I find creative ways to waste not, want not. My children joke about mom's "surprise soup" which usually consists of misc vegetables left for the week and misc pieces of meat in the freezer. Turns out, that is one of my family's favorite meals to look forward to. We don't eat out and if we do, its at a very cheap place because well hell, its just expensive to eat out! So this year, with a financial planner assigned to us, we have tried to change many things like car insurance, home mortgage, car payment interest rates etc just trying to stay afloat. My biggest fear and our concern is that my husband's disability is only temporary. From learning by others, we can't count on that because it could very well be lowered in January of 2012. One of those changes made, was the decision to bite the bullet and apply for state assistance by means of food stamps.

Being the family we are, we have always taken care of our own and then given to others. I don't think I would ever just stop and say "we need help" from someone unless it was an absolute dire need. Swallowing the biggest pill of pride, we filled out the application. Now, DHS said they would send us a letter that would tell us whether we were over the income level and can't apply so it saves people time and gas money. Makes sense to me as our county covers many areas and for us, it was a 45 minute drive to go there. We applied, filling out every nook and cranny on the application honestly, and mailed it off. It was a week later, we got a letter back stating that we would need to come in "due to the nature of our request" and meet with a caseworker as they take these very issues "case by case". I saw this as good news because hey, it wasn't the denial letter.

Over preparing was probably an understatement but only because we have been turned away so many times from others, that I have learned. They wanted everything but first born and blood type. So the day comes to go down there and my husband of course, has to be in one of his moods. It's been a rough couple of weeks from social security appointments, conference calls, the schools of our children sending us letters, and I knew from pride and self-disappointment that he didn't want to go. We recently received a letter from our kid's schools stating that our children were flagged for being under our state's income as "below poverty level", therefore, they would be adding an additional fruit or vegetable on their lunch trays. For some reason, this set my husband off. He looked at me and said "Is this what I *****ng served for? Is this what happens to families like ours. We get dropped to poverty level?". I couldn't respond to him because I knew no matter what I said, what could be the right answer to that? I was appreciative of the extra items on my child's trays. It had been stewing for a while to begin with, and he had been holding much in while working with his service dog for three weeks in TX. This particular letter smacking us quickly into reality, seemed to be the straw that broke the camel's back so to speak and he has let things rip the last couple of weeks.

The DHS here isn't a pretty site and has the look and feel of a detention center or jail. The people that were there, were rude and looked at us like we were gum underneath their shoe. It was as if we were bothering them by being there. Much to my dismay, I found that almost all (and by that meaning our car and one other) the vehicles belonging to applicants in the parking lot were newer, more expensive, and really much nicer than our own used 2003 Tahoe. So with my youngest man, Gunny, and my husband....we all went in. The place was pretty full and naturally being in small tight places, most of the women were talking. One of the conversations while we waited and tried our hardest NOT to listen to, was that of a young woman who joked to another young lady with children and was applying for the first time; about NOT having to work as long as she stayed pregnant. She was probably 22 or maybe pushing 25, but young with six kids in tow. That conversation really caused my anger to stew because she was so nonchalant about it all and to me it felt like a huge slap in the face. She could have probably walked up to me and spit in my face and I wouldn't have been nearly as mad as I was then. She talked about having free health insurance, free housing, food stamps and a cash allowance through Families First. Her nails had been professionally done, her hair had been professionally highlighted (we girls know and tend to notice these things) and she was relatively dressed nice although my husband said she looked like a tramp. In my eyes, a Hollister t-shirt and expensive brand jeans means she has got money coming in from somewhere no matter how she wore it. Tattoos and gold rings means that she is spending more on herself than she is on groceries or items for her children.

Another conversation included a young man with three children in tow driving a brand spanking new Cadillac Escalade who pulled up along side of us and wearing enough "bling" that I was surprised he could walk with that much weight. He was complaining because after two years in the system, he was going to have to take a class on how to apply for a job in order to keep "his stamps". His whole conversation with his wife or girlfriend was how to get around that by telling them he has been looking for a while now and they needed to get their story straight. I kept thinking to myself, "ya know buddy, Welfare wasn't meant to be a career opportunity". My husband who now has a scowl on his face which in turn caused many to stare at him more than they already due to the service dog, was holding my hand as if we were sitting in the bowels of Hell itself.

Out of those younger people in the room, there was an elderly lady who had health issues and only received ten dollars a month for food stamps. Worked all her life until she couldn't anymore, drew social security at very little and a widow. I thought wow, out of all the people in this room...she probably sincerely and desperately depends on that precious 10.00 a month. The remaining people in the room were immigrant farmers and not meaning that in any prejudiced way, we knew because the clerks behind their little window were discussing loudly who to call in to translate because they were illegal migrant farmers and couldn't speak English.

So our name gets called, and we get up. The first thing the caseworker does is say to my husband is "Why do you have that dog with you? Why did you bring THAT in here? What do you need the dog for?" My husband who has already gone past his thresh hold of anger, bristled and replied curtly that it was a service dog for medical purposes. So she said "Oh..well...I don't understand why you have IT here". So I replied nicely that this was a service dog and where my husband goes, the dog goes. Well we knew then, that this day was not going to go well at all. So after sitting down, we go through our story which is a nightmare in itself and present all the required documentation. Shame filled me because the whole time she just looked at us funny. It wasn't like oh wow, what a sad story or perhaps a little sympathy. It was a bored, "would rather be anywhere but in here" look on her face. She wasn't even paying attention half the time because she kept cutting us off asking questions about the dog.

I showed her loss of income, our mortgage, our car payments, utilities and most importantly....our health insurance which we pay for monthly and medical bills which has been a reoccurring expense even before my youngest son was born. ALL of which was required documentation according to the check list I "had to present to caseworker". I showed medications for all family members, breakdown from the insurance company about our $300.00 family deductible which must be met before it even kicks in, and the $1000.00 a year out of pocket and the 15% we must pay on each bill. I brought all the medical bills we owe for this year which is now up to 1700.00 that we haven't been able to pay, so make monthly payments on. We showed her the cost breakdown of food for our youngest son, documentation from the military etc and a breakdown done by the Veteran's Affairs office showing that we only allowed $200.00 a month in gas and $400.00 a month for groceries leaving us with a whopping $42.00 a month out of my husband's disability check a month. Just this month alone, we spent $150.00 round trip/same day to Lexington, KY VAMC so my husband could see a TBI Optimetrist because our area doesn't have one. Due to "clerical errors", which is just a nice way to state that a small box of "Is this a referral?" didn't get checked, we didn't get travel pay the last few times we have made the round trip of five hours. With the cost of groceries and gas these days, this doesn't go very far.

So naturally and probably due to human nature, she inquires about my husband's disability which I felt was rather rude but maybe necessary. As soon as she found out that my husband had PTSD and TBI (which was like explaining how mankind started to her) her whole demeanor changed. She kept looking at my husband as if he was suddenly going to jump up and start shooting up the place! She had huge eyes, and her smile that was fake and plastered on her face turned to a scowl. She replied "I'm sorry but maybe it will get better". Uhhh ok? After much typing and no responses, she looks at us and says she can't take our mortgage, our health insurance, our car payment, and that we were over the income guideline because the calculations showed that they can't deduct anything as outgoing on VA disability. I didn't understand that because we have one car that is considered for medical usage in which we travel to all of his appointments, we showed every dime, every payment and insurance. She explained that we were short $200.00 from being accepted and that she was sure that "the Army takes good care of their wounded warrior families and you could go back to work". What part of "Caregiver" for my husband" did she not understand? I can't even get my littlest son into childcare because he is classified as special needs and a hazard/liability. I just sat there and explained that last week, we got news that my child will NOT be able to attend public schools for pre-K and the possibility of homeschooling for a few years might be necessary. We didn't qualify for Families First because "Illness or injury does not keep you from supporting or caring for your child for at least 30 days". What part of TBI and PTSD did she not get? Maybe she just didn't understand that I don't leave my children in my husband's care because he just isn't able to care for them.

So wonder what Miss Tatooey's injury is for her to qualify for Families First? The only thing I could figure out was "Injury by tight jeans and glittery thong" allows her to suck the life line out of our state's programs.

Then the Caseworker explains that we can't get help because she can't deduct our insurance, medical payments, prescriptions etc because it's not Medicare. If we were paying into Social Security, then we would be eligible and therefore be able to claim subtractions from our income. Because it was military insurance, which she is sure that they are providing for us, (head banging inserted here) it doesn't count and because VA disability is unearned. WHAT? So then I got upset, my husband is red faced and here I was sitting in that chair bracing for a blow up from him. I told her that if we HAD social security, we wouldn't be applying for Food stamps or any state assistance. I became so upset and just started gathering up our papers so we could leave. By this time, I am choking back the tears. I knew it had been a mistake and how stupid of me to make my husband come down there with me. How dumb was I to think that they would help us? I knew too, that as soon as we got out of the building my husband would go on this tirade and after January? It scarred me for life, and you never know what will make him explode so I was worried. It was a kick to an already downed dog.

My husband started immediately asking her "Ma'am, I may not be understanding but I don't know the answer to this; perhaps you can help me to understand. What did I go overseas and serve my country for? What did I risk my life every single day for? The man out there driving the brand new Cadillac? The young lady who is bragging on how she is taking advantage of the system? Or maybe I should have been an illegal immigrant so I can get all sorts of help. Maybe you think the military takes care of their wounded warriors, but they don't. There are many many of us families losing our homes, not able to make it from month to month yet my wife can go to the store and stand behind someone who is buying steaks with food stamps and junk food. Things that I would love to give my family. I didn't want to be here because both of us come from a long line of family that takes care of our own and to help others. I came because I am not able to help my wife and if this relieves just a little stress on her? I will do whatever she needs and for our children. So explain to me what is it that I worked for, paid taxes into, went to war for and was injured for because I am confused."

I waited for her response, in which she promptly inserted foot into mouth before speaking. "Sir, I am going to stop you there and correct you. I know that there are many many organizations who help wounded warrior families pay their monthly bills and help with groceries. Second Harvest Food bank will give you a bag a week. Wounded Warrior Project I donate every time I visit Cracker Barrel and they help families just like yours by paying mortgages for months and provide resources. I would like to correct you on the illegal immigrants because if they do not have a social security card, they can't collect benefits. However, because they come into the country and have their children born here, yes they can receive a substantial housing allowance or free one, they can collect a higher amount of food stamps and receive dental and medical insurance because their parents are migrant farmers. If have a complaint about Department of Human Services, maybe you should write to your Governor."

By that time, I was infuriated and felt the need to "correct" her as well. "Ma'am now its my time to clear up some confusion. If there was ALL this help, why do we have so many military families falling through the cracks? I just showed you ALL the help we are getting and because we are Reserves, there isn't ALL these programs that will help. Even the ones that do for Active Duty only help ONCE and that's it. There isn't ANY programs that will help monthly at all. Second Harvest Food Bank can help us monthly with one sack of groceries containing what is available at the time. Much of that is whole grain wheat cereals/bread which my children can't have. There are usually eggs, whole or powdered milk if possible, peanut butter or other cookie/bread type items that have byproducts of peanuts in them which we can't have at all in our home. Any one of these could potentially kill my youngest child. Wounded Warrior Project I am a huge fan of and I am sure they have helped many families, but so far, the ONLY thing I have gotten through that program is a trip for caregivers and resources anywhere near us. They don't pay for monthly bills like you are misunderstanding and they don't pay for monthly housing etc. Now is a time for you to look up some of these programs and see just what the qualifications are, what they do and how they serve. While I appreciate your time, and correction about illegal immigrants...the best thing you could have done was NOT explain to us in length why "Anchor" babies to illegal immigrants get all the benefits when you are turning a Wounded Warrior away. Seems like the ones who really need the help, can't get it and yet the losers out there in society are living high on the hog. And by the way, I will be writing a letter to the Governor." I will copy this blog and send to every state representative, congressman and anyone else who wants to read it.

By this time, my husband was gathering Gunny up and looking like he couldn't get out fast enough. Myself? I stuck my chin out, straightened my spine and with tears running down my face I walked out of there. The ride home was long. Very very very long filled with shouting, crying and disappointment mixed with wounded pride and humiliation on his part. As I listened to his ranting while driving home, I did wonder myself....what do our military serve for? Did they know when they joined that they would come home and just be pushed to the side because they can't do their jobs anymore and not by their fault? Other than the obvious freedom, protecting our country etc...what did they get in return? I had to inwardly laugh to myself because I thought...I was just as naive as that caseworker was before my husband came home broken. I really did think that things would be taken care of. Instead....seems like the leeches of society instead are the primary reason people and families like ours can't get any help and the military and VA systems just don't care. We have to fight constantly to get anywhere, then once there....we must fight once more to stay and not get knocked back down again. I wonder sometimes if my husband knew then what he knows now, if he would have been so eager to sign up for dear Uncle Sam? Pride for our country and the call of duty would probably make him say he has no regrets and I would probably state the same. I have to wonder sometimes though....was it really worth something to many or just some?

Still Dreaming About Welfare Paid Lobster and Jeweled Thongs In My Size,

Back to School with PTSD and TBI

2011-08-23T16:29:00.000-07:00

So the end of the summer has come for my school aged children and thought I would touch on this subject as this is one I really have stayed away from. While my brain was whooping with joy and my feet skipping gallantly down to the bus stop....the fear, anxiety and dread filled my stomach once again as soon as my children got on the bus. For those that really don't know much about my children; we have a three, five and fourteen year old boys. My littlest dare devils were pre and post deployment babies, so never had to deal with outside care other than my mother in law and an occasional sitter via our close friend, "Aunt Gracey", as my boys call her. Since my husband left as my middle son was born, the only one out of the three is my oldest who really knows the difference between "old" and "new" dad. After deployment and because of my son's older age, I educated as much as I could about the subjects of PTSD and TBI. I initially had reservations regarding this because although he knew what was going on somewhat, I wanted to allow him to still be a boy and not create a man so to speak, before his time.

While he still struggles just as we all do, he seems to understand more now that he is armed with the knowledge and like all of us, learning through mistakes. We didn't experience some of the depression, acting out or bad behavior as some other families are dealing with living with our types of households other than a few minor incidents at home and of course, prepubescent attitudes. I did however go through hell last year which is what we are going to talk about now. With school gearing up for all of us, I have seen an influx of "back to school" fears enter my mailbox, especially those of you who are National Guard and Army Reserve families.

Now for the active duty side of the house, I can't really tell you much about what goes on because we were never on a post or had to deal with schools like that. I can only say that on the RS/NG side, it's pretty hard because we aren't around military oriented communities and therefore our teachers and employees, (unless military related) really don't know much about our families and such struggles. I WILL say that many of you who have expressed your concerns and fears, were a ton of active components which is just damn sad. Why on posts are you all having so many issues? It's completely unacceptable! I am wondering why since PTSD and TBI is such a prevalent topic in the news that these teachers are not educated! Hopefully everyone can find something in my post that they can relate to, give you ideas, comfort you in you aren't alone or hell, at least a chuckle! I also hope this will spawn some of you to come out in the open and leave comments so others can share your advice or concerns! I completely understand what everyone wrote especially the email with the subject liner of "HOLY HELL-I'm SCARED to send my children to school!!!!". I have to admit that this year, I was dreading it a little bit. We are transitioning into newer schools for both my school aged children. One into Kindergarten at a closer school and one into dum dum dummmmm...high school. I was a bit concerned and wondered if perhaps I should have reconsidered talking to my Cardiologist about upping my Xanex dosage!

Last school year, the one problem I had and my biggest fear was not my older son but my middle son. At the age of four, he tested high enough to attend our county's first guinea pig project of Pre-School in the school system. Other than just being around Nana and a friend, he has always been with the family. I thought having the opportunity to get out and learn, plus the socialization would be wonderful for him and allow him to blossom before Kindergarten. While he did exceptionally well, we faced a TON of challenges that we weren't really sure how to address or where to turn to for help. It wasn't that my son was a misbehaved child and for a while, we never got a note home from the teacher or phone calls. I thought he was doing pretty well.

I suddenly get a HUGE letter asking for a parent teacher conference "as soon as possible-like tomorrow after school possible". Now, I wanted our family to seem normal and although I am very proactive about PTSD and TBI. I guess I wanted my children to have a normal school year. I am sure many of you can relate to that statement because although we no longer fit in the "normal category" in much of the military world, we are especially abnormal in the civilian one. We try to act as normal as possible. When enrolled, I didn't talk to the teacher about my child facing such mental and physical challenges at home because I wanted him to be treated normally and give him the opportunity to find himself without being defined by PTSD and TBI which often happens with ALL of us.

I attended the parent teacher conference bracing myself for bad behavior. What could he have possibly done to warrant such a nasty gram home? Not listening, biting other children, the kid who eats the paste, snorts glitter, runs with scissors? What could be possibly going on that she would send such a note home to me with such harsh words? The worst I could figure was that he was repeating strong sentiments expressed by my "PTSD Beast" or maybe was acting like a goof ball in class. So after much nail biting, a quick pep talk in the mirror, I stayed after school with my son to attend the dreaded conference. I had a bad feeling and it just sort of hung off me the whole day like twenty pound sandbags around the neck.

The start of it all was "Your child is an excellent student BUT...." and I braced myself. Here was this teacher all of a sudden ranting and raving over my child and what were her complaints? He was too loud. He liked to be the loudest of them all on the playground and yell. Sometimes his "inside voice" was too loud for her and with the many "centers" that offered educational toys...he wanted to stick with the ones that created sounds and of course...play the loudest. She had one center with trucks and cars like fire trucks and police cars with sirens. He would go in and immediately want to use that center and then not leave. She said he was testing her patience. I have to tell you Readers...I started laughing because I thought to myself and told the teacher "Is that it?". I was relieved in a way that my child wasn't going to suffer from a glue poisoning or be the kid that is the class clown and always in trouble. However, I was kind of stunned because it was like what do I do with that? So after many many many examples, and some serious evil eyes from her, I broke down and explained.

I let it ALL come out from start of being injured up til then and when I was done....she looked like a deer caught in the headlights of a car. Big bug eyes, alarmed face, confusion and a frown said it all. I felt absolutely deflated because I knew she just wasn't and didn't "get it". I felt like a made a HUGE mistake but kept stumbling on like some rambling lunatic. I explained that my son's behavior is explainable and it was due to his wanting to play with such toys, because we can't have them home as they set my husband off. We can't be very loud or yell, because it startles my husband so severely and then sets him off. We have to talk a wee bit louder than most because my husband lost quite a bit of his hearing and with two other brothers, he has to talk a little bit louder. I am also deaf in my right ear and can't afford hearing aids for both ears, so he does have to talk a little louder. She said she understood but I could see it in her eyes. It was as if I suddenly sprouted three heads and told her the mothership had just landed on the playground. I told her we would work on these "behavior problems" and to understand that we are a little bit challenged when it comes to expectations than those of other children.

We were batting a thousand right out the gate as the year rocked on. We not only had these noise issues but we also had the immaturity because he was the only (just turned) 4 year old they had in the entire program as the others were five going on 6. It was a constant barrage of phone calls, nasty grams home, parent teacher conferences, and then to make it worse....volunteer time. I wish I could have, looking back on it, explained how badly I wanted to be on every freaking field trip that the class took. I wanted to not only be there for my son, but wanted so desperately to dive into the excitement, the laughter and the funny things small children do at that age. When my son was at school, its like watching our service animal. Gunny works and works hard, but when he gets the chance man does he run and well, just wants to be and act like a dog! My son was similar to that and what I could see running, squealing and laughing was completely different of the child that comes home in the afternoons. He was happy, having fun and enjoying the time away. I envied that somewhat but also wanted to soak it all up at the same time. My husband and I then became the "non-participating" parents. I could not volunteer my time during the day without extensive plans ahead because I had to have someone with my husband and/or younger son. I wanted to go on those field trips and have some fun, but I was not able to do so. The nasty grams always stated the same thing "Your child was being loud on the playground or hallway and not using his inside voice-please have this talk with your child and have it corrected by tomorrow". Ummm ok.

We bought t-shirts when they were made, we bought other school fund raising items which we could not afford on disability income, clipped the hell out of some box tops, made sure our son participated in everything but selling candy which we got a lot of grief over. Our youngest child has a deathly allergy to peanuts and while the cases of candy bars are a hit with most schools....going door to door out here in cow country with a Veteran who has severe PTSD/TBI wasn't a popular idea with me. Not only that, but no matter how hard I tried to explain why I couldn't take two cases home due to Reese's Peanut Butter Cups being in there, we still got the "well alright" with a frown and arms crossed. We couldn't take the box because the oil on PB cups contaminates the entire box and could kill my child. No further explanation to me was needed, but it was like she just kept punishing me because I wasn't there all the time or was able to do the things like the other parents. Each time I picked him up, I pulled up with held breath, ass cheeks drawn up and the feeling like I was the one being punished and not him.

We made it through the school year and he graduated. She gave us a big hug but got the feeling that it was more like "Thank God they are leaving". After the school year ended and summer began, the more I thought about it the more pissed off I got. The entire time, she never offered me the usage of the guidance counselor at the school even during the time my husband broken down and had to be hospitalized. (yeah that was tough to explain my son might have bad days because we just had to put his dad in) We never really talked and came up with a mutual plan for working on the issues he had in class. He did wonderful at his work, wonderful at sharing, writing, listening etc...but would lose his tokens because of being a little loud or playing with a toy that dangled in front of him like gold in front of a thief! It ticked me off because no matter how hard the kid worked.....she set him up for failure because he would lose his tokens no matter what. So when other children would go to the prize box at the end of the week, my son would come home with nothing. I understood the reward system but with children such as ours, there has to be some room for understanding, patience, and expecting hurdles and challenges.

This year, I decided to bite the bullet with the new school and get a head start. I wasn't sure if I was making a mistake, but that's how we have learned much through this journey is from those mistakes. Fortunately for us, my oldest had just left my middle son's new school so they were familiar with my children. I was really panicking because I didn't want to have to worry about this type of stuff on top of everything else. I wanted my child to have a normal education, but at the same time, there has to be room for work on both parts of the parents and the school. I partially accepted blame for allowing last year to happen and for my not stepping up to the plate and letting the schools know. I sat down and after talking with Brannan at Familyofavet.com, I expressed my concerns about this upcoming school year and could she send me some laymen termed information on PTSD and TBI. I then took that, made several copies and then wrote a letter you can find HERE to my son's Kindergarten teacher in my son's point of view. Now from the Facebook page, some commented this may not help many of the older children but it can give you ideas on how to approach your child's teachers. You don't have to use it per say, but you get the idea of where I was trying to come from.

I didn't need one for an older child because I went and talked with the guidance counselor and principal before school started about my oldest son. I wanted to make sure that he could talk and utilize the guidance counselor during the school year. You can use it as a guideline or maybe you have other ideas. I took this packet and gave a copy to the teacher, the guidance counselor, the principal and the vice principal and made a copy to the school board. I was quite surprised at the reaction, the comments and the help they offered once it was out and I had something well written educational wise (Thank you Family of a Vet!). I found that by taking the horse by the reins this year, pushing my way in and advocating for my children was the best solution for us as far as our challenges. I am hoping this will help not only the teacher, but myself as a parent this year.

For my oldest son, transitioning to a new school PLUS High School to boot, can be pretty brutal as many remember our Freshman year. I was worried that he might have some difficulties especially after this summer when he told me he really no longer fit in "anywhere". Made me think a lot about what my son told me. I didn't realize he felt this way but he said "While most kids my age are worried about no allowance, or so and so just broke up with him/her, I am worried about my dad when I leave home for those 8 hours. Will he kill himself? Will my mom be alright?" It was pretty straight forward and well, honest. This year, my son decided to look into JROTC. I was a little hesitant, nervous and wanted to make sure he was doing it for the right reasons, not just to make my husband proud. He actually wanted to do it and I do believe it was one of the best moves we made. He has made a lot of friends his age and upper class men, sincerely is under scrutiny and expectations from SGT Major S who is a friendly version of Gunny Sarge from the movie Platoon, but he loves it. It gives him something to do extra-curricular and he has found several students in his class that have parents struggling with the same issues. I think the confidence building, the goals and standards are just what he needed.

I can't honestly tell each and every one of you how to go about doing anything but can say from our experience, so far so good with pushing forward and advocating for my family. It's a little scary, but I felt more comfortable as the Principal called me with the Guidance Counselor and offered any services we may need. Familyofavet.com has a good radio interview which I participated in with many different panelists on board. It is an interesting way to hear different issues come up and what sort of solutions. One was to come up with a "code system" which I have found so far was one of the smartest ideas I learned. With my middle son, we have decided to use a red highlighter on bad days, and the teacher has ALL my contact information. I explained I can't fix any problems if I am not aware of them sooner.

Familyofavet.com also has diligently worked on a Ready to Use School Packet for Parents and Teachers which is ready for download. You can visit HERE to get all the information you need! The best advice I can give all of you is to just try. You are going to make mistakes as a parent, your child is definitely going to make mistakes....it's even harder when you factor PTSD and TBI into the equation. It's difficult but in all of this, you must do what you have to do. Many feel better about NOT bringing up the issues at home, and some do. Some feel that home schooling is an option that best suits their child and that is something that has been brought up a number of times due to the schools in their state/area. The point is....its up to you to advocate and search out resources. Often the school counselors are a lot more educated about PTSD than many of the teachers, if not...educate them!

Another idea to, and one we placed the resource card in our back pockets, was utilizing the Army's Child Youth Services. Relatively new, they have placed School Support Specialists in each state. They can help provide resources, and if need be, even speak to your child's teachers and school employees about the challenges faced at home. This can be done by phone or if feasible depending on location (as you know they have tightened up budgets), they will come to the school. Now they seemed to me to be more Active related, but did offer some great advice, ideas, and offered to be on call anytime that I needed our specialist to step in to set up a meeting, educating and diffusing "situations" that are family related.

I feel better this year myself, and will all this completely help in the whole year? Maybe. This is only the first week of school so I am sure we will stumble on some issues along the way. I am trying to stay focused but have to say that I, as a parent and spouse of a Veteran, feel more confident and sure of myself than I did last year. Embarking on a journey with our children through life is difficult and then the pressures of PTSD and TBI mixing in, can be challenging. You just have to find the right solution for your family and if you fail, keep trying. At least the school system can't fault YOU for not trying to letting them know and educating them. Check out the resources, most definitely check out FOV's Packet for Parents and teachers, and let your mind chew on some ideas on how to best help yourself. At least we can say....we got an A+ for effort!

Still Learning,

For the Love of a Vet: Most Asked Question To The Mistress

2011-08-06T11:01:00.000-07:00

With life being so insane right now with Coordinators, advisers ( I may have more now than Obama has and still don't know what the hell I am doing), MED/PEB board, service dog, paperwork and school starting up....it's been difficult to answer and get caught up to all the emails. Since I had a battery of medical testing yesterday and under orders to rest, I thought I would take the time today to answer the most asked question that many of you have sent in:

How Do You Deal/Cope With A Veteran With PTSD, TBI, Issues?

Honestly, this is a question that is one that plagues us spouses on a daily basis and one that there really isn't a specific answer for. I have read the books, I have researched, and everything I have come across has different answers because like your question to me, I have asked that question to others. You could cram a room full of experts, therapists, and psychiatrists and still not get a single, mutually agreed upon and understandable answer. Now does all that researching, reading, exploring and asking make me some type of educated "know it all" on these issues? Absolutely not! Never claimed to be, never will be and to be honest with you readers...I am still to this day asking, exploring, educating and wondering myself how I deal with all of it!

So after reading 58 emails this morning with this very question that eludes us all, I thought I could pass on what I have learned, what has worked for me, and what hasn't. May not be the answer you want, but it's all I have because every Veteran is different. Each of us has different stories, and will have different outcomes. In that same sentence, every spouse is different. What is common among us all is that we all have problems and varying degrees of issues/wounds but, as individuals, our thresholds are different. So what works for me, may not work at all for any of you.

1. Education: I know I brow beat all of you on this but in many emails I have received, the spouse admits that they don't know much about any of their husband's issues or diagnosis. Almost everyone has a computer these days, and access to the internet. If not, there are libraries. Research. So what do you do with this knowledge? You will be surprised, but it changes the situation and you will learn how to best handle the counter-attack with your veteran. Education on these subjects will be your best coping tool that you will find. Why? Because you can't do anything but shy away from the unknown and you find yourself swimming in unfamiliar territory. First thing we do as humans is panic, defend and retaliate. This is NOT going to help you in any manner with your veteran. Once I learned as much as I could, I understood my Veteran better. You have to understand that many times, the Veterans don't even understand what is happening to them, let alone try to get their family members to understand. Once armed with knowledge, you can find ways to adapt to this new person who you are living with and that comes all on your own. Each of us will interpret this information and react differently. It's up to you though to know what you are dealing with.

2. Understanding the Veteran is NOT your old husband: At first, this whole mood swinging, yelling-screaming, foul-mouthed, foaming at the mouth stranger that came home to me, scared the hell out of me. After I educated myself, I understood the different processes they go through. How did I cope with this? I looked at my husband as many different individuals and named them. You will see me refer off and on in my blog posts about "Dr. Jeckyl and Mr. Hyde" in which is his sudden in-a-good-mood man and then BAM! Pissed off and cussing man. You will see me refer to the "PTSD Beast" which is the monster side of PTSD when it rears its really ugly head and the talons and fangs come out. There is "Mr. Downer" for when he is depressed and flat lined, "Asshole" for the times where he is well, being an asshole. "Mr. Danger" for when his adrenaline seeking methods turn into stupid, self-absorbed and crazy ass antics he pulls. "Eugene" which is in reference to a donkey we met on a Wounded Warrior Wive's retreat in which I use to envision my husband when he starts hee-hawing and going off. My "Pod Person" that came home, isn't my husband. However, sometimes...some days, I see small glimpses of him and that right there is worth all the other personalities I must live with. Each mood and each day can be challenging, but try to find humor in it. Learn each mood, each personality and find what best fits YOU as the spouse when dealing with it. When the "PTSD Beast" rears its head, try one thing and if that doesn't work....keep trying until you get it right. You will eventually learn something that does work and most of that will be through trial and error. When "Dr. Jeckyl and Mr. Hyde" shows up, I simply find other things to do or get out of the house. It's easier to walk away than be an unintended target for their anger.

3. Knowing that most of what is directed AT you doesn't mean it's FOR you: I had a hard time with this and often times, I still find that I get my feelings hurt when he yells and screams at me for something else. Over the last couple of years, I have learned to tune out most of it and try not to wear my heart on my sleeves. Easier said than done is probably what you are thinking. Understanding their wounds will help you accomplish this but will also allow you to see that they can't help but lash out. If you are there....you are/will be the target. I once had a therapist tell me that although they may seem like they are foaming at the mouth and ranting at you for nothing that you did or had control over, take that time to listen as they are often letting you inside without you realizing it. Everything is cooped up in that small organ called the brain and they don't know how to reach out or tell you that this made them angry, sad etc. Much of the time, they are scared. That made a lot of sense what she told me that because once I learned, I found that my husband in all his yelling was actually his way of opening up and letting me inside. Showing what they are feeling and how to express it in the appropriate manner is one of the biggest challenges because what we know as "normal" isn't in our worlds anymore. In this, you must learn to stand up straight, move the feelings aside, listen, and let them get it out. I usually find that once he is done, he is actually easier to deal with than letting it bottle up and explode.

4. Being a part of their lives: Often we find when our veterans come home, we are suddenly living together but not really "together". I struggled with this as the relationship changes and it's very hard to find a place where each of us can mutually come together. As I learned, educated and asked questions...I found that my husband was actually more open to me because I was trying. Rather than fighting and yelling back, I tried to rely back on what I learned as my focal point to stand on even ground with him which helped tremendously. Again, learned through mistakes and trying again. By attending the appointments with my husband, showed him that I was still by his side and interested enough to learn to adapt to his disabilities. Learning to recognize their triggers is one of the biggest things. If you know that crowded places piss them off or if being in a particular situation stresses them out, then don't push it on them or force them to be in those situations. Finding resources that you CAN do together is a great way to help adapt into this new life. I found that by paying attention, learning what sets him off, learning what he can do actually helps him communicate with me a little more and we find a common ground we can stand on. If you aren't showing them that you care enough to go that extra mile to understand, they won't move an inch because in their minds....you aren't trying at all. It's very easy for you to be seen as the enemy and every little thing you do will be viewed in their mind's in huge blown out proportions. Often times, they are merely pushing your buttons, so you will be angry and that in turn punishes them. It's really a vicious circle and it's up to you to put a blocker in that circle.

5. Understanding they will never be the same person: This is one I find I still have trouble with and to this day, often my heart misses my old husband terribly. I recently was reviewing VA medical records in which he reported that he thought I was leaving and taking away his children, that I was poisoning his food, and that I was picking on him for no reason. It really hurt to read all of that because I couldn't understand WHY he would think such things of me! I know in the educated part of my brain that is part of the paranoia that comes with PTSD and that in his mind, he probably really does believe this. In the feelings part of the brain, it hurt like hell. Much of the time everything is about him or the world revolves around him, and often times we as the spouses lose that helping hand/companion that we had before war. He doesn't seem to care when the kids and I are sick, or if something happens in the family. He has just become numb and flat-lined. I just talked about this to a dear friend of mine the other night who quickly reminded me that in their minds, they just aren't capable of such things anymore. I guess what helps keep me going is seeing small glimpses of what he used to be. Occasionally, an acknowledgment or a simple I love you makes it worthwhile.

6. Knowing when to take care of yourself: Coping with our Veterans can literally suck the life out of you like a blood thirsty leech. Compassion and patience can go right out the window if you don't cling to it somehow someway. I have been really bad about NOT paying attention to myself and letting my husband control much of how my life is run. I decided that I didn't want to be just a "caregiver" anymore with PTSD and TBI ruling every little thing I do in my life, hence the blogging. This is my way to still have a part of me, but document our life and struggles in hopes that it helps others. I realized I was having some health issues and after a good hearty scare, realized I haven't been taking care of myself like I should have. I am still learning in this department because I am a giver and not a taker, but in living with such issues...you still have to have a life. Surround yourself with other spouses like yourself. You may think you are alone as many of you have written in to tell me and trust me, I hear you! I have small children and cows surrounding me and no one in the area who "gets it". However, with technology today, you can find other support groups online and although weird as it may sound....my friends live inside my computer. Hahaha! There are many support groups online such as the Wounded Warrior Wives through Operation Homefront who have chat forums. It's nice because not only are you seeing that you aren't alone, but can find answers, open up to other resources and the list goes on. There are retreats and resources out there, you just have to take the time to find them. I am trying to find myself more time for me, and just for me alone. If in all of this, I think this is one of my biggest challenges is to let go and give myself some attention.

7. Setting and Knowing Your Own Limits: Out of all of this...this is the most important one and one that often leads to the question of how to deal. I have been through it all, and second chances have been given because I understood and was educated. Love will often blind you and also give in to second chances. However, I will NOT let my husband use me as a physical or verbal punching bag. I will NEVER allow him to hurt my children or someone else. I will NOT allow him to do everything he wants to do, disabled or not, and not face the consequences of his actions. I set guidelines and know my limits and most importantly his. Once those gets crossed, its best to walk away for each of us. I try to promote understanding of PTSD and TBI but at the same time, you can only take so much. So for those of you who write to me asking whether you should stay or not? I can't honestly give you that answer because I can't. I don't know what your situation is, I don't know how bad it is, or what you have been through. It would be crazy for me to even attempt to try to come up with some lame ass comment to your question. Best I can offer is this. You do what you need to do. If you aren't happy, and you have tried...sometimes you just have to walk away. It is ok to love someone and just not be able to be around them or hell, even like them. You know your own limits and what you can deal with and adapt to, and that's for all of us. You have to make the decision on your own and follow through with it. The Veteran must understand that there are limits to their behavior and often times, we all know that behavior can easily become volatile and dangerous. Don't stay because you might look like a bad wife, or "not supportive" as one person stated. If you have done everything you can, and things don't improve...do what makes you happy and most importantly, protects you and the children.

So in closing this long winded "non-answer" to the most asked question that has been given to me, realize that I am just a spouse like you are. I am living with the same person, the same issues, and problems like you are. It's been a long path for us and one with many physical and emotional challenges, but you aren't ever alone. I think what keeps me going is just stupid, blind, adoring love for a man who went to war and never came home. There are parts of my "pod person" that I have grown to love and accustomed to, but I still grieve for things long gone. There will be many many bad days, and few good ones. I take one day at a time, prepare for the worst,expect a disaster and hang on to the smallest of hopes. I know that sounds depressing but I am sure many will agree that is all you can do. You learn from each day, and learn from the challenges. Take that wisdom and put it to good use. There isn't a manual, or a "break glass in case of emergency" box with all the solutions that many of you seek. It just simply isn't there. For the love I have for my husband, I would cross the ends of the world for but know in my mind....that he simply would not for me because he is no longer capable of doing so. However, I hang on to the tiniest glimmer when I see a part of his old self, and the hopes that I can find more of them that keeps me going. I hold on to hope period and as we go through each day, I discover more strength and wisdom about myself and other spouses than I ever had before. Learn to let go of the past, which is extremely hard....and move on from this point forward. There is no going back. I am a firm believer of the "if one door closes, another shall open" phrase we often hear as we have discovered that.

I hope this helps someone. Again, maybe not, but its the best answer I have for these types of questions. It's one of the hardest ones to be asked because you have to stop and wonder "how the hell am I dealing with it?". It's not something you can explain, or teach...it comes through hard work, patience, and the belief that love and hope still exist. I stand my ground, I stand firm and I fight. I wake up, I let go of yesterday and deal with tomorrow when it comes. For each of you who wrote in, thank you for sharing with me and I wish I could have a "Here is what you do" words of wisdom for you. I wish there were such things. Just know you aren't alone, there are others exactly like you, and we are all facing problems just in different degrees. Just open up your mind, find your own strength and you will be amazed at what you can overcome.

Being deeply loved by someone gives you strength, while loving someone deeply gives you courage.

~Lao Tzu

Dog Days of Summer

2011-07-20T10:02:00.000-07:00

I am so sorry I have been a way for a while. Seemed like so much exploded at one time, that I didn't know if I was coming or going anymore! To get back into the swing of things, as many of you emailed stating you were sending out search parties, I am still alive and trying to play catch up! Hahah! I would first like to say a huge THANK YOU to "Brittany" who created my badge you all can copy and for my new header at the top of my site. She has also reconnected my FB page and resource feed, in which many have told me my old one was not working. I think it looks great! So what's been going on? Waaay too much. Since my last post, I told you we had a Recovery Care Coordinator who has worked sincerely hard to get my husband where he needed to be. So far, we now officially have two Line of Duty injury forms and awaiting more to be approved.

I just cried when the Commander of my husband's unit called last week and said he had received, signed and sent them back. It was a little bit of closure for my husband and of course, much more closure for me. I have been fighting so long, I am not sure what else to do now as most of our issues are being addressed by several people. I know fighting will still be part of the whole process, but I am in unfamiliar territory and that part scares me some. I keep hanging on to the thread that the big man upstairs has plans for me, and is guiding me. I questioned it yesterday on a trip to town while combating the rambling thoughts that entered my mind as I drove. Then I passed a sign that said "There are no such things as coincidences, only God being anonymous". I am not overly religious but do believe there are signs that appear when we need them most and possibly this is one of them. Corny sounding I know...but hey, it just made sense that sign was there yesterday when I have made that same drive and never saw it before.

So other than waiting in a standoff with the military over pretty much everything, The mistress has had some health problems. I probably should be, in all honesty, be the poster child of "Stress Kills" and my heart has been acting a little goofy. I haven't been feeling good for a long time and just haven't been able to get to the doctor and when I did...seemed like they would only treat the symptoms, not the root of the problems. I am trying to disregard the building worry that's buried inside my stomach, as it may be nothing but tons of stress. I did find out that I would have to have surgery on my left leg this year, and follow in my husband's footsteps by getting a C-Pap machine. Nothing is sexier in the bedroom than matching bedside C-paps! I told my husband now we can bump Darth Vadar masks together at night and he can make fun of me for a change! Won't know much until I have all these heart tests done and of course, I am having to wait. I learned quite a while back that the military and the VA system has totally burned the patience bridge many years ago. Between all the testing, the military, the VA and dealing with family...it's been all over the map for me as of late! So under orders of rest, relax, calm down and keep the legs elevated. Under more medications, but that's ok and I have an awesome Cardiologist!

So now on to some AWESOME news, and one I haven't shared with many people as of yet due to concerns over jinxing our plans if we spoke too soon (yes, this has happened-call me Mrs. Gun Shy). We had previously applied through Puppies Behind Bars program for a service dog last year as many may recall only to get denied due to my husband not being a "strong enough candidate". We bombarded them with tons of reference letters speaking on our behalf and had all of our paperwork in place, but just didn't work out. So after January when the bottom fell out on my husband, I realized maybe we should try again but didn't know where to start. Through a fellow blogger, Gina Hill, I was put in touch with Penny's From Heaven Foundation and man oh man...knew I was speaking to some genuine caring individuals who put the warrior's concerns and health first, than concentrating on finding out what they did in Iraq or Afghanistan.

After a few weeks of talking, an application which wasn't scary and many many phone calls with the director of the TADSAW program (Train a Dog Save a Warrior) they had us approved and choosing the perfect "battle buddy" for my husband. The TADSAW program saves dogs from shelters and off the streets, and trains them to help others in many different ways. I was first drawn to Penny's from Heaven because of this ideal method of getting animals into service work as we have many many animals in shelters across the US simply thrown away. We adopted "Taco" our Chihuahua from someone who was going to take him to the pound if she couldn't find a home for him, and he turned out to be the best thing in the world for me! So after some choices on which dog would be best for my husband, the strong silent type.....it was decided that we would be getting.....

Gunny

Gunny, like Uncle Sam's Mistress and my husband, has an interesting story and is a fighter. I don't believe that anyone in the world could have paired up a more perfect animal with a family, than PSFH did. This particularly handsome devil had an expiration date with the euthanization chamber and was rescued by Patsy Swendson, founder of the foundation. After a bit, he became very ill with distemper and after tons of love, prayers and a whopping vet bill, Gunny was cleared 100% for the duty of love, work and play! He is a fighter like we are, and I have to tell you dear readers....when we first got the pictures of Gunny (Or Gunny Sarge as my children lovingly refer to him as), it was like "Oh there you are! Yep...that is definitely you!". My husband was ready to go to TX months ago, but they still had some training for Gunny to do.

I don't know much about service dogs for PTSD or for any type of mental or physical handicaps. This is one area that I had to admit, the Mistress is just now diving in to looking up information. I do know some soldiers who have one, some veterans that swear by them, and spouses who wholeheartedly agree with all of it. I do know that animals have a keen sense of intuition and my beloved Sam, whom we lost this year, was proof to the healing powers that animals have. "Gunny" will be joining our family on August 12th, in which we are very excited about! More importantly, its been a HUGE difference here at home with my husband. He has been talking about trying this place or that, and well......just has hope. We leave for San Antonio, TX for three weeks to train with my husband's service dog. I will be writing much about this because there are several reasons other than just saving an animal to help save a warrior. The thing that caught Uncle Sam's Mistress's attention, was the fact they took the time to get to know us as a family, each as individuals, our personalities, our faults, our mistakes, our victories and what we have learned, and well...just took the time to find out how we were doing. I know applications are important, but how can you really really learn about someone in a few questions and some paragraphs?

I really like the fact that they have bent over backwards for us and was able to help secure funding for travel, food, and anything else they could think of. More importantly, they have become a part of our family and that's what makes them stand out in my opinion. While there are many service dog organizations out there, I think I have to say I am biased because they took such great care in not only planning, choosing, and making sure we were a good choice to be awarded a service dog but making sure they knew who we were.

I know I can be often long winded, and detailed...so today due to time constraints and three bickering kids, I will let you connect to the link and check it out. I promise if you are in need of some hope, some help, and have the will and drive to work with a service animal.....five dollars says there is a dog waiting for you somewhere. You can check out Penny's From Heaven and all that they have done here. They are open to any and ALL Veterans so no need to worry about applying my Vietnam and Gulf War Brothers!

I will write more later but wanted to thank everyone who sent concerned emails about my absence. We just have had so much to get done before I leave with my husband next week, and the time is just slipping away! I will try to be a little more attentive to my blog as I know I have been slacking a little with it. Hey, never said I was super woman although some days I sure could use the flying cape!

Until Another Day,

National PTSD Awareness Day

2011-06-27T06:14:00.000-07:00

Today, Monday June 27th, 2011 is National PTSD Awareness Day. The Mistress knows that many will probably look at this, skim over it and think "huh, didn't realize we had a National PTSD Awareness Day", then they will keep on trucking through their day. We do have one thanks to our Senate who designated last year, June 27th, to be officially a day for nationwide awareness. So what does this day mean to many? Probably not much at all unless you are someone with PTSD, a Veteran with such issues or a family member of those affected. This day wasn't solely designated for military related PTSD but for all types of trauma related post traumatic stress. While it is a step forward, shame it took so long for it to finally make it a recognized awareness.

So for this day, the Mistress asks that you take the time to do something yourself to give part in creating awareness. Since 2007, I have been simply amazed at how far we have come as far as information is concerned for military families and outreach programs available. Programs or non-profit organizations that weren't even a twinkle in someone's mind are now full blown operating ones and that is thanks to those who weren't afraid to stand up and speak about it. It still blows my mind to see how many don't mind speaking up about their PTSD or their families these days, in such places as Facebook or twitter. Many families and combat veterans themselves have started blogging, which is in fact helping spread the word all over the world.

In recognition for our second annual National PTSD Awareness Day, the Mistress decided to take a few minutes and give my Readers some ideas that YOU can do to help pitch in with the awareness of such issues.

1. If you aren't a blogger, become one: While there are many ideas given to us as veterans and family members coping with or living with PTSD, some things they offer as stress release techniques are not really accessible or feasible in our lives. I don't know about many of you, but getting a massage at the drop of a hat would be a luxury item in my lifetime! Then I have to worry about several things; leaving my husband alone or is it something he can and will participate in? Or, is it something we can afford and where the hell do I find the time to do such things! Anyone can write, and is something that can be done anywhere, anytime, and is a release from some of the stress. This ol' gal never would have thought in a million years that my writing it out, would have taken me so far! Now I know, I know...many say "well I don't want the whole world to know all about my problems! It's on the internet and everyone will know!". My answer is simply this: I wasn't born with the name "Uncle Sam's Mistress" you know. I write in a no named area, I leave names and cities out, and I do not write some things that I think could possibly harm my family. I was quite surprised to hear in a writer's guild several women discussing my website while waiting in line for lunch. They never knew that it was me standing right behind them and I like that! Very few and only ones that I feel comfortable with, know who I really am. Blogger.com and Wordpress are relatively easy to do and trust me, this woman is most definitely technologically challenged. You could be SGT PTSD or Mrs. Sally Jo Blankenship; whoever you choose to be. It's a good way to document things going on as well especially when you need to go back and reference something! Also, a good way to think about blogging is this: If our voices aren't heard, the harder it will be to get help. I know many fuss because some programs and help comes a little too late for us, but I don't want another person to go through what I have...so I am happy even if it means I can't use it.

2. Volunteer your talents and your time: So you are probably arguing with me right now on the time issue aren't you? Let's say your day is like mine. You might have 20 minutes where you want to kill someone or run into the bathroom and cry, just to get it off your chest. Take that 20 minutes and see what you can do with it. Many organizations, websites are looking for stories just like ours. Share it! You can click on such sites like the USA Cares banner above or click here and share your story. The more we share, the more others can eventually try to pitch in and help our challenges we face. Brannan, from Familyofavet.com, could use some good help with just smaller tasks such as taking brochures/fliers to the VA. This can be done and hey, more than likely this month, you will be there at one point or another. Check out her Grassroots tab for ideas on how you can help! There is also an article she posted on National PTSD Awareness Day as well on ideas on how you can help.

3. Pass on and share such links on your FB, twitter or email accounts. Some good ones are Familyofavet.com, Operation Homefront's Wounded Warrior Wives, Wounded Warrior Project. Instead of getting that second frappachino at Starbuck's or buying an overly pricey lunch, drop a few dollars in the "donate" box for these guys. If we all donated one dollar, imagine what that could do for some of these organizations!

4. Please pass on a story about this young veteran who is a purple heart recipient and who has been missing since last year. His family is desperate to locate him as any family would be! His story can be found here along with some photos. Passing on through such sites as Twitter and FB can reach a ton of people! Familyofavet.com has a down-loadable flier with story and description of this veteran and it would take you just a few minutes to pass on. Your taking a minute to share this, might be another minute closer to finding this veteran.

5. For those who are NOT living with PTSD, take the time out to pitch in a helping hand. I don't know about many of the families who are reading, but some of our veterans have physical injuries that limit items such as mowing the yard or trimming the bushes. Even with mental injuries such as TBI and PTSD, these items can be daunting for a spouse trying to be superman and doing it all on her own. Give a call, and just see if there is something you can do for them. The best gift a dear friend of mine has ever given me are these kind of phone calls "Hey, I was wondering if I can steal the kids away for a little while to go to a movie or bowling". While that might not seem a lot to some folks, I can guarantee you that the families who are juggling PTSD and any other issues, this is a gift that no price tag can be placed upon. Offer to run to the store, clean up or perhaps give the spouse a break for a few hours so she may have time to run by and get that double scooped icecream cone with her groceries. Those little breaks are few and far between. Trust me, we won't ask for this but if you offer, our little hearts are going to go pitter-pat as you see nothing but elbows and ass running for the front door! Now for those that can't afford to offer much, offer support and a lending ear without judgment. The best thing ever given is just an opportunity of releasing that pressure cooker going off in the Veteran's or spouse's head!

Simple simple things. Nothing overly drastic, nothing overly time consuming, but enough to make an impact. Just by standing up and saying "We are the family of PTSD" or any other issues creates that first awareness. Many try to hide it and that's not going to help us in the long run. It's not going to help you at all by hiding it. Now I am not saying rent a billboard, stand out on the corner with written signs, but just standing in front of a mirror and saying to yourself "yep, our family represents the very many and I am not ashamed" will be creating awareness for yourself and that my friends....is always the first step in fighting back.

I am a spouse of Military Combat PTSD. This is my family and we are not ashamed,

Rolling with Stranger Tides

2011-06-23T07:53:00.000-07:00

Wow! Has it really been almost two weeks since I last wrote? Where did the time go? I don't know about you all, but this year has completely left us in the dust as far as time flying by! Now....where do I start so you can get somewhat an idea of where we are at right now? Lots of changes happened in the past few weeks, so its all been one big blur as far as keeping up.

So in my last post about just us, we were assigned another recovery coordinator that I wasn't so sure about. Mostly because I hadn't had a chance to really talk to her or give her what we have done and haven't done in the past. We are after all, as a family in the whole, gun shy and not used to holding on to hopes. It's more like "Oh yeah? I got to see it to believe it honey". I feel horrible because we have changed so dramatically and there is no such thing as miracles, hope or even magic anymore. I spent hours on the phone calling the First Marine Division, the Pentagon, and anyone else in between just like I have in the past three and a half years. It finally paid off by getting in touch with the right person who cared and took the time to look my husband's military records up. Low and behold, there was absolutely nothing.

After some stupid, head banging "are you freaking kidding me?" questions from the Pentagon like "Is he still Missing in Action?", and my favorite "Are you sure he isn't still missing?". I told her "Well I am looking at him and don't you think I might have called you sooner in regards to him not coming home three years ago?". Sheesh! I am amazed that I walked away from all of the past two weeks with only a minor twitch in the eye! The Reserve Recovery Coordinator we had that I second guessed, turned out to hold true to her words and what a go getter she is! She did more for us in less than three weeks, than any of the Congressmen or state representatives we had on our case. That in itself, is just sad. Rather, it's infuriating and I know that my state's congressman will NOT get my vote this coming election. I chose carefully among our state's political gurus choosing what I thought was wisely, and picked those who pushed the support of veterans! Turns out, they didn't do much at all that I, as the spouse, couldn't do on my own. Now they have "stated" they worked very hard and tirelessly on our case. Hmmm....this makes the Mistress wonder just how hard they worked. Seems to me a young lady three states over did all this in less than three weeks so what went wrong? I can imagine the conversation going something like this:

Congressman: "Is that the crazy lady on line two?" Sigh "Tell her I am looking into it and when you get off the phone call over to St. Louis records department and see if this soldier's records are there".

Secretary: "Sir, St. Louis records only hold retired and discharged records"

Congressman: " Call them anyway so I can give this woman some type of answer!

Secretary" Sir? St. Louis doesn't have them and neither does National Defense".

Congressman: "Ok, well we have done all we can do so just send her a nice letter apologizing but be sure to add my computer signature so she knows that I am sincere. Make sure you remind her how hard we worked and to please return the favor in her vote in the upcoming election".

Harsh? Yes. Close to the truth? Most definitely.

After more than 150 hours logged on the phone, 78 individuals later, one meeting, and some secondary sun burns...I managed to find validation for my husband and was able to close that chapter in our life. The Army has been on our case for the past two weeks with TONS of people calling from neurologists, Child Youth Services, to mental health counselors and therapists. We were also assigned a Military Family Life Consultant or MFLAC if you choose the short version, who is helping to get our finances straightened out.

So where, do you ask, does this lead the Mistress now? Well, I am not really sure. I don't believe in my heart that it has truly sunk in just yet that the fighting is over. Seems that I have become quite comfortable in harassing people for the past few years, staying in that fight mode with no way to get to the flight part that goes with it. I am walking around in a daze now. No more, will I be calling Ft. Benning on a weekly basis, or sending tons of letters and emails...and although we have definitive proof now, I feel sort of out of whack.

From these Line of Duty injury forms, means my husband's awards and benefits will be put in finally which be somewhat closure for him. From what I understand, and there are many involved, they are backing up to 2007 and assigning him to a Wounded Transition Unit. This will also help us when we go before the MED Board, which is one thing we are scared of and going into blindly. This will also help overturn the "not combat related" bullshit the VA keeps giving us on all of our claims for disability. Well, at least a small part of us hopes that it will help that latter part. I find that when dealing with the VA, "hope for the best expect the worst" has been our motto.

Having these LOD's will be nice and most definitely help, but do I think the fight is completely over? Nope. I somewhat think that this will mean a new fight and one that I am completely out of my comfort zone with. It is truly like being a captain and sailing in uncharted territory. After they emailed with all of this, I wanted to shout it from the roof tops because I have been told by so many people just to walk away, not to write or document any of this especially on the internet, and even told to stop calling period. Some days I was placed on hold while I am sure, five or more military personnel were playing "rock- paper-scissors" to see who was going to have to deal with the lady on line three. So this was not only a victory for my family, but for all of us spouses and Veterans who keep hearing "you are the strongest advocate anyone will give you". It's true. I am proof that effort, time, patience, research, education and the willingness to not give up...pays off. Some have asked me in the military world, how in the hell I pulled this off or how I found them. They would be most definitely surprised to see that in research and time put in, information is to be gained easily....on the internet.

I wanted to place the damn confirmation on billboards leading up the highways, I wanted to march in front of the VA and yell at the top of my lungs "how do you like me NOW" or possibly a strong sentiment of "go suck an egg"! Instead, my husband and I just sat on the back porch, heads held in our hands and we cried. My husband looked at me and said "what does this mean?" and for the first time in three and a half years, I was able to look at him straight in the eye and say "baby, this means you can hold your damn head high and know that you are validated". Sigh....alas, the Mistress refrained from placing such items on billboards, no anti-VA-egg sucking-go screw yourselves march in front of the VA, but gotta tell you all dear readers, it was a moment of triumph. And I myself, can hold my head up high because I did it and on my own.

Since then, it has been a roller coaster of emotions and while grateful for all those who have suddenly found a deep interest in my family, I can't help but wonder......"where were you three years ago?". Why in some of these resources, are we just now hearing from some of these? Why did it take me so many years to get someone in the right department and then discover that "oh well, we have been here". I think the victory was was most definitely rewarding, but hard to swallow at the same time. I have made sure that they remembered this one simple phrase, "You deployed a soldier and disposed a hero". I want those involved and responsible to sleep on that phrase every night they lay their head down. I want those who didn't do their job to know that there are some who will not give up and will continue to fight. So if you have gained anything from this blog at all, take with you the knowledge that you MUST fight or they have won and that's exactly what they want you to do, give up the fight. For those of us bloggers, who constantly remind you that "You are your Veteran's biggest advocate" we aren't spinning some BS for you that we expect you to walk away and accept.

Between all of this, my family and my husband was awarded a PTSD and TBI service dog, which we are very excited to have in our family. Although not a cure, we are hopeful this will give my husband some type of normalcy and confidence. We leave to go work with our new family member in July, but will talk more about that later. I am way behind in blogs as I wanted to talk more about the HAVE (Helping a Veteran Experience) Alaska program that my husband attended, and my trip with the Wounded Warrior Project's Writers Guild Program in New York City this past weekend. I am very behind in emails, but please know that I have read each and every one you all have sent in. I am super honored that many of you have shared your stories with me and I will definitely get back to you. Be patient with me as I am trying to juggle so many things right now at the moment and with not only physical exhaustion, but mental one as well. Many thanks to all of you who kept me going, this was a small victory for all of us.

Still Holding My Head High,

Crazy Being Home

2011-06-06T11:38:00.000-07:00

I have always maintained that music surrounds our existence in these times and for every moment in life, there is a special song creating your very own soundtrack to your life. Normally, I don't advertise or promote anything unless a. I believe in it. b. it actually works and c. it's something I think my readers will find interesting. This particular post is going to be all three of these. I also have a personal take on this very subject, which makes it proof that such things are out there to help our Veterans and families. Anything that creates and pushes an awareness of PTSD and TBI gets the Mistress excited!

Mark Wills

In partnership with the non-profit organization USA Cares, Country music singer Mark Wills has stepped up and together, they are creating an awareness campaign for Post Traumatic Stress disorder and Traumatic Brain Injury. Together, they would like to push an awareness of the hardships and struggles our men and women in uniform deal with when coming home. Issues that we know, as Veterans and families, is becoming epidemic in proportions in our generation. When the news was released that on average, there are 18 suicides a day among our veterans, it saddened me to think that was their only way out and the military and VA systems are failing ALL of our Veterans. It made that bottomless pit and hollow feeling in my stomach because as you know, my husband wanted to commit suicide and tried.

I was intrigued about the email I received in regards to this PTSD and TBI campaign, but was more impressed over the phone call discussing the whole thing. I have to say that Jessica, at Lotus Nile (Music/Entertainment firm) treated me with kindness, respect and a genuine concern and belief in what they were trying to do. I find that most intriguing as I have seen some organizations or individuals who use the wounded to collect money, but you never really see what the money is going to. Several things piqued this girl's interest with this whole campaign. First, I love Mark Wills! Yes, the Mistress has to admit that I love his music, his looks and the fact he just seems down to earth. I adore the fact he has made more than seven trips to the Middle East to see our troops and perform, which there are only a hand full out of the entire music community who has done this. The "Crazy Being Home" campaign is dedicated to those who risked their lives for this country's freedom. I like the fact that Mark Wills genuinely cares and is concerned for our many military members coming home with such problems. I also, after speaking with Jessica, didn't get the feeling that this was for promotional purposes...it wasn't about money, it was about the awareness and helping an organization he believed in.

Second, my family was a recipient of one of the programs under the USA Cares mission; the Warrior Treatment Today program. This program helps give the Veteran the financial help they need to cover the costs of bills, rent, mortgage etc while they are in an inpatient program for these types of wounds. The biggest obstacle many military personnel have is being able to get the time off and usually unless they just have tons of time they can take, this is done without pay. No pay, means financial distress and can increase the symptoms of PTSD. My husband lost his job as you remember when the bottom fell out from underneath him and we had to have him hospitalized. We were still struggling to get our heads above water, and to be honest with you....this was the main reason he didn't seek out help in an inpatient program two years ago. We just couldn't afford to take the time out with no pay. USA Cares was and is a great program that I would highly recommend to anyone and have, along with writing about it.

This program is essential I think with those that are National Guard and Reserve Components who suddenly get shoved out of the ACU's and back into the civilian work force. Some of those, made more money while serving and depends desperately on those paychecks. Heck, who doesn't depend on any paychecks these days! I do recommend to check out the USA Cares program and if you do decide that this is something you want to apply for, apply in advance. There has been an increase in traffic for all non-profits these days due to the amount of so many military hardships coming back. Don't wait til your bills are close to being due because it can take a while.

Thirdly, the song "Crazy Being Home" is really really good! I like it, it's got soul...it speaks to you. I let my husband listen to it and he agreed that it really seemed to capture the feelings of those that have returned and trying to fit back in to society. We have experienced the whole finger flipping young adults, who seem to have no care in the world who they are flipping off. So it's not just a song...its a story.

If you would like to listen to Mark Wills' new single "Crazy being Home", you can listen here. Also, if you go to the website, Crazy Being Home, you can find up in the top of the site, a player. This player you can listen to the song and download the new single for free. The promo code that you will enter is home 2011. Enter your email and promo, then it will take you to download here. Also, what I have learned most of all from living with PTSD and TBI is we all have stories. Stories that are sad, full of loss and some anger but at the same time, full of courage, strength and love. If you would like to share your story, here is how you do it!

1. Top hand right side of the screen, you will see About, Contact and Journal. You will click on Journal which will take you to that link.

2.There you will find in the box, Post Your Story Here which you will click on.

3. Fill out your information and share your story. Click Submit.

4. Now that you have submitted your journal entry, it is time to share your story. The goal is to
raise awareness and you can do that with your own personal link. In order to receive your
personal URL, follow the steps below. Your unique URL can be posted anywhere. You can email
it to your friends and family, or simply update your status on Facebook and Twitter.

Steps to get your own unique URL
1) After you have submitted your journal entry you will be brought back to the “Crazy
Being Home” Awareness Campaign page.
2) Scroll down to the bottom and enter your email address in the blue box
3) Press “get your link”
4) Check your email
5) You will receive an email with your own personal link.
6) Copy the link and post it for all of your friends and family to see
7) Throughout the campaign Mark Wills and USA Cares will be offering incentives to
encourage you in sharing your link and stories. Make sure to check back often!

I appreciate Mark Wills doing this and so glad that I am able to assist in such a worthy campaign. Please show your support by copying this URL link and pass it on to friends and family. You can also use this link to post on Facebook and Twitter or anywhere! Wishing all the best and special thanks to all who are involved and to those who get involved with this endeavor! Your stepping up means a ton to families across the board and I know in my heart, that with that first step..others will follow. The more awareness we can create, the more resources will come out of it to help our Veterans and their families.

Still Singing to the Song,

Say What Doc?

2011-05-22T12:58:00.000-07:00

So this past week or two...it's been a ride. Physically? I am here. Emotionally? Jeez...I have to say I am somewhat hanging on for dear life. Between paperwork, paperwork and more paperwork...seems like I haven't been able to do anything other than just that...paperwork. Most of it, I have absolutely no idea on how to fill out and much of this has seemed to stump even some of the higher ups in the military echelon who should know because that's their department! Go Figure.

No, not the actual doctor but this is as close as I could envision

So our latest escapade was getting my husband re-screened for Traumatic Brain Injury. Now I have to admit...we are "one of those" cases where no one really seems to know what to do with us. However, like a bad penny...I just keep showing up at the VA and pushing. If I can't get it done there, I will keep going elsewhere. After several years of "chronic weirdness" as I call it, and symptoms really not belonging with the term "post traumatic stress disorder" given by the VA; we had him screened for TBI finally in 2010 which was three years after he came home. Being that my husband was the combat medic for not only three platoons of his engineer group, but also the medic for several groups under the 1st Marine Division....much of my husband's memories are a bit muddled. As you may recall, my husband was involved in several incidents such as mortar attacks, small arms fire, exploding chlorine gas bomb in a tractor trailer rig, many many concussive blast exposures, a fall to the back of the head and an accident in a humvee when a sandstorm suddenly hit them outside the wire. This all are among many others that I can NOT talk about. On some days, my husband was dealing with casualties, and many wounded...so any injuries sustained himself were self-diagnosed and treated without a single thought. He was their only medic so what happens when that medic is down? Means the others don't get treated. Among medics, self diagnosis is common and treatment disregarded because their job is to maintain the others. "It's a badge of honor" one medic explained to me. "You don't stop. You get up, you shake it off and you keep right on trucking because you aren't important, the other soldiers are."

It's hard to pinpoint which event among those 17 caused the Traumatic Brain Injury although we have a pretty good idea which one it was. Although he wasn't medi-vac'd out of Iraq, he was bleeding from the ears, nose and knocked unconscious. He doesn't remember how long, or exactly what happened...but remembered someone yelling "Medic! Medic!" and waking and helping him up. Other than a severe headache, nausea and dizziness....he still doesn't remember anything prior to that or much after that. Something about that day haunts him constantly as I still to this day, get to relive those moments in his nightmares and sleep talking. He told me a few days later after this particular incident when he called home, that he had finally broken down and gone to Medical on post because he just wasn't feeling all there. He felt rattled he said, but they gave him some Tylenol and allowed him some short down time before his next security and medical mission. Some missions he worked dual positions and on 24 hours shifts, there was no time for "down time".

When we finally heard the term "TBI" and discovered that the Army and the VA did NOT screen him for it...we had him screened in which he showed positive for it. The testing for this is long and supposedly, they are supposed to break it down at the VA over a period of several days because it can take its toll on you. Of course, in the real world...that's not how they do it. It took my husband eight hours to complete the test.The first test we got a "Dr. S" who explained that he couldn't grade my husband's TBI test because "his exam is so poor and his test results are not in my psychiatric DMV book so I can't grade it". I was somewhat concerned but "Dr. S" said all he can do is give him a mild diagnosis. Now at the time, I didn't fully understand how one does the scales for TBI in regards to grading it mild, moderate and severe, and all I knew was this doctor really didn't know what to tell us. It has weighed on my mind about my husband's test being so bad that they couldn't grade it, and how we were pushed right back out the door with nothing more than "yeah, he definitely has TBI".

We were given a caseworker which we didn't meet until recently and who really doesn't seem to be able to help much or even called to check on us. My husband was sent to speech therapy who gave him a PDA to keep track of his appointments and who told him to write things down. While those ideas are helpful, it still didn't explain the "chronic weirdness" that he was experiencing like the sudden loss for words, the extreme forgetfulness, doing things he never did before like forgetting to lock the doors, forgetting to turn the stove off, and the list goes on. The other concern I had was he is having issues finding the correct words he needs when he is trying to say something. The headaches come and go, but the black floaters as my husband calls them and sensitivity to light was bothering him, which are all common. However, I started noticing the stuttering, sometimes shuffling of the feet, the fact he could not react to quick things, blackouts and other problems that just didn't seem right and no one would explain them or address these issues.

Being me, I pushed harder for him to be re-screened and we finally got it last week on May 12th. My thought process on this was maybe they will see something the other guy missed. Maybe there is the key somewhere in all these questions. We know has TBI but what can we do to start helping him? My husband was agitated and extremely anxious because the day had been long, tiresome and exhausting. We had hopes that someone could explain what was going on with these issues and so we come to meet "Dr. A" as I call him. After a long, hot day and my husband already pissed off because of other issues dealing with PTSD....we awaited somewhat on the edge of our seats to meet with this neuro-psychologist who we had hoped, held the key to what was going on with my husband. As soon as he walked in, it wasn't five minutes of the conversation he mentions to us that he was diagnosed with Alzheimer's. I have to tell you dear Readers, this concerned me greatly and my immediate reaction was "You have got to be f*****g kidding me" along with the usual alarms going off in my head that this meeting was not going to produce any answers. Hey, I am usually a positive person but the VA has turned me into Miss Debbie Downer along with having the "it can get worse" attitude ruining my normal outlook.

"Dr. A" begins the discussion of how there are so many fakers in the VA system and how that irritates him. "Disability seekers" just rub him the wrong way. "Of course" he said, "nothing like that has to do with you but people try to fake these tests and it just doesn't happen that way". Hey man, I get you. I really do. It pisses us off that we KNOW some who are simply that: disability seekers. Try being in the shoes of those that are desperately seeking help and can't get it while watching the seekers get all the benefits they want. However, I wouldn't be pushing so hard on answers for a diagnosis we aren't even getting disability for to begin with! I gather he was just venting in general but it sincerely rubbed me the wrong way right out the gate. I was somewhat confused because although he is telling us all this, I couldn't quite grasp why he was telling us this.

He goes over the test results and proceeds to tell us that my husband scored very high in some areas, but very poor in others like the language and memory. However, his problem solving skills were above normal but other portions were below normal. He then tells us how he really doesn't believe in the diagnosis of PTSD or TBI which are just "nice" ways of saying "depression and a bump on the head". The entire time we spent with "Dr. A" produced quite a bit that revolved around him having Alzheimer's, his electrical problems at his house (oh yeah I know...head banging against desk time) and while I feel sorry and horrible for him, I couldn't help but wonder....was he being completely fair to my husband and his issues?

Back to the tests, "Dr. A" reported that my husband's poor areas were showing he must have been a severely poor person in school and probably a bad student. I immediately responded back that "no, my husband went to a small school but was one of their best students in grades, attendance and in behavior" in which that was completely ignored. Spelling he did poorly on which was one of my first alerts because hell, I used to ask him how to spell stuff. Now that he is showing signs of simple things like the word control, and spelling I have to worry. He then tells us that my husband's problem solving skills were above normal which means that part of the brain is working, but other areas he scored low in. He then goes on this tirade of how my husband needs to "get over it", "get back on the horse and go get a job", "you are too emotional and depressed" and "you had TBI but its cured now. You don't want to live your life this way do you? I have Alzheimer's, live life to it's fullest. Just get out there, drop the emotional baggage and get back to it". So we sat there, and my heart was racing. I couldn't argue with him, wasn't going to waste my time even trying...but really? If it was that easy, trust me...we would have been there a looooong time ago. I kept waiting for my husband to go off and bless his heart, he just sat there with this totally defeated look on his face. So I asked intelligent, educational and rational questions for him to answer hoping for some answers and all I did was get reamed over the fact my care giving is "impending" my husband's health. I was shocked!

Now while my husband was taking his test, I was given a "what's going on in the home" test in which asked for you to check as the family member, how often, most frequently, always, sometimes, less than always answers for some pretty hard and some easy questions. It also asked for examples to be given in which I had plenty of time, so I gave this doctor PLENTY of examples...as many as I could fit on the page with the corresponding questions. I did report the blackouts, the headaches, the extreme forgetfulness, the stuttering, and everything in between and examples of how I helped my husband during the day with daily life. I reported things that are going on with him and just like it asks me...things I am noticing. I don't wait on my husband hand and foot....I don't bow down to his every whine, need or whimper and do believe that as a "caregiver" you can be detrimental to one's recovery if you are taking away much of his independence and not allowing them to do things for themselves. Motto in my home is "Try Try and Keep trying till you kick its ass!". My husband may have issues, but he isn't completely immobile, unable and is capable of doing much of these things on his own. However, the repercussions of some things like cooking can result in small fires. Not reminding him to shower or shave, or take his medications because he forgets...results in a very smelly and very very irrational and grumpy man. Driving due to blackouts or forgetfulness on time, can result in him possibly harming someone on the road or end up in inappropriate behaviors/places and not know how he got there. Because I go to his appointments with him, it makes sense that I drive.

I try to help him by giving him daily things to do. I work with my husband on memory skills, keeping him busy and small things to focus on as well as "prompting" him when its needed. We work on putting puzzles together because the biggest complaint my husband has and myself too, is that his hands aren't working with his brain at times. So I thought that puzzles or cards, might help improve those abilities. I provide routine and structure in which was recommended and approved by his psych doctor because he functions better in those types of environment. He works in the garden and we are looking into different programs for not only PTSD but TBI as well outside the VA. I have a calendar to keep his appointments on, he has a chore list and a daily task list. He writes notes to himself in his notebook he carries all the time. His medication is put out for him in a special cabinet solely for that purpose and a reminder/prompt is needed or he will forget or even better...take it twice.

So we aren't just sitting here, looking at one another while I am doing every little thing for him down to wiping his bum or breathing for him! "Dr. A" gave me an earful without asking all that I do, about how I was doing everything for him which is producing more harm than good AND a lazy husband to boot! Some of the things he mentioned must have come from someone else because it had absolutely nothing to do with us at all. Not on the tests, not in my answers, hell...not even in my husband's responses. I have to admit dear readers, I was hurt. "Dr. A's" suggestions were to let him go and make mistakes, deal with the consequences later and stop with the puzzles but pay 300.00 on college advanced courses like calculus that he can watch on a dvd on a daily basis to make him think harder. I told him nicely, that "you aren't living with him. You don't see what its like. How can you say this when you don't know the whole story? If it was this easy as walking away and leaving him be...buddy all you would see is asshole and elbows belonging to me running out the door to go back to work. I have an education that is collecting dust, and we don't like living in poverty level. Why would I waste my time helping my husband if he didn't sincerely need it?" He said "well its just lack of drive because of his emotions". Say whaaaat Doc? What the hell is he talking about?

My husband's TBI is cured/healed he stated. He had it but it has completely healed with no problems afterward. He did state that my husband's tests produced the same results as last year's so it wasn't any different which is rather interesting because last year the same results ended with a TBI diagnosis. Now that "Dr. S" gave him a diagnosis of TBI, this doctor wanted to pull that and state my husband is simply "emotional". Now here is where we are getting crossed wires and I wasn't exactly sure if "Dr. A" was understanding how he was coming across. Now I like to think that I am a pretty smart cookie. When and if I don't understand something, I research. I look at all sides and possibilities, so I wondered if my husband's PTSD was so severe that it was causing all these problems. Depression can impact a person's motivation, hell we as caregivers can testify to that right? So I asked. "Dr. A" but he really couldn't answer me but said that emotions can cause the brain just to stop". Well, ok...so here I am looking at my husband thinking to myself, "he is so far gone that his emotions are causing issues with the brain". In this same conversation, "Dr. A" reported that my husband's left side/hand was weaker than his right which was very unusual in his opinion because my husband is left handed. My husband has no feelings in his hands so this "new weakness" really didn't surprise me any.I also noticed and reported the left side being weaker in my test as well as the noticing of him dropping things or the inability to work with his left hand.

Now while he is talking about his, he suddenly starts talking about my husband's psycho-motor skills which have "declined severely since the last test" and now they are so "severely impaired" he is concerned enough to warrant a seizure of my husband's drivers license. I sat there and my heart just dropped. Although my husband doesn't drive much, he does go up the road to a farmer's home and hangs out there with the horses etc. He doesn't drive much, because he doesn't leave much due to his PTSD. If we go out, I am usually with him and drive. The only thought I could think of was "If this man takes away this one precious little thing, my husband will kill himself". I could see it on my husband's face, the look of defeat, the look of total loss. My husband teared up and said "Sir, I have had everything taken from me. My jobs. My mind. My life, my family..and now you want to take this too? It's the only independence I have!".

I argued with "Dr. A" mostly because I was so scared that this would be the straw that broke the camel's back so to speak. I explained that my husband recently attempted to commit suicide and I felt that this would be the WRONG time to slap something so detrimental on him...I guess I hoped that he would understand the underlying plea of "please do not send him back home with me and let this be my fault and have to deal with the consequences". I argued that I drive so why not let him have this one thing to himself with the promise I would drive him where he needed to go? I also argued that I didn't understand how "emotions" impair someone so severely, that it warrants such a drastic measure? He didn't answer nor did he care too. His last advice was "I will think about my report but am putting in that he needs cognitive and physical rehabilitation.I don't know what to tell you". I kept asking to myself "Why does he need such therapy? Is that for too emotional of people?"I would have asked him but he was too busy looking at the clock and rushing us out the door.

I have to say Readers, we both left with our tails tucked underneath us. I left confused, second guessing myself , second guessing my care giving of my husband and second guessing my husband. I left feeling horrible that I just put my husband through all of is. No one is more to blame than myself. We just wanted answers to what was going on. We know it and see it...but a doctor who doesn't know much or want to know about TBI is the one we need the answers from and he wanted to tell me how I am failing my husband? More importantly, my husband left feeling like yet another person in the VA system didn't care what happened to him or what was going on. He left in a tirade and took me quite a while to get him calmed down enough to drive him home. He now feels he is just crazy and really doesn't have anything wrong with him. He feels defeated and so do I to be honest with you.

I felt that way for 24 hours or less and did what I do best...got back up on that damn horse and dug my heels in deeper. I first contacted our Federal Recovery Coordinators, (yes we have two now-more later on that), in which both agreed that it sounded like we were coming under fire because of this Dr's problems and I agreed. It was also noted that no one provided a TBI doctor to read the results. It felt like we were being on trial and having to justify my husband's problems that are not as severe as Alzheimer's. I talked to our Caseworker who "couldn't advise me" THEN I called a researcher at the Memphis VA whom I dearly adore and knew she would give it to me straight. Which she did. She explained to me that emotions do not cause these types of issues and when the doctor said he was healed, did I witness the parting of the waters as well? I had to laugh but she reminded me how well of a job I was doing and don't give up. That the problems he is facing is indicative of TBI and the damage is in the parietal lobe. She told me she would love to see a SPECT scan because she would bet that portion of the brain in swiss cheese holed which is sad. Surprising enough, I learned where the parietal lobe is located which is the area he hurt himself over and over again. She encouraged me and explained how a doctor gives the diagnosis of mild, moderate and severe and how even though I was misunderstanding...mild TBI didn't mean there wasn't serious issues involved. Untreated she explained, can cause more deterioration the longer it goes on. She also told me that such tests are given but it takes a doctor who KNOWS how to take the PTSD from the TBI and separate those from the answers. With a guy maintaining that ALL TBIs are just bumps, and not knowing the answers..makes me wonder if he knows anything at all in regards to TBI. She made me feel better and I thank her for that.

We met with my husband's psychiatrist on Friday who looked at me deadpan and said "Ummm PTSD doesn't cause psycho-motor skills and that is all crap". I guess I needed my husband to hear that validation he was not indeed crazy or that emotional. Maybe I needed it for myself. I did tell the psychiatrist that I felt we were under fire for my care giving and being lumped into the disability seekers that doctors want to place you in. She thought on this a moment and being the serious person she is, told me the difference between disability seekers and those that have serious issues is caring. "You care and you fight. Your husband cares because he keeps trying anything and everything...together you are fighting back..that is the difference. You aren't disability seekers, and it isn't emotional that is happening to you." as she looked at my husband. Out of all of them, they made me realize my husband just wasn't simply crazy or just too damn emotional, but it was like ok...so how do we combat "Dr. A"? I just know now that my husband is steadily declining and I am concerned. I have a clearer understanding of TBI and all that it can affect and I feel somewhat better although I am to the point now of "where to go next?"

I guess we will just keep going up because that's all you can ever do with these problems. I just wish sometimes I had the help pushing me from below upward, because sometimes I feel like the weight of the world is on my shoulders...and no one really cares about us as far as the military and VA is concerned. I noticed here recently I don't really fit in with other TBI spouses because they aren't facing the issues of the army losing military and medical records, or not receiving awards that were put in for, and even what I am dealing with on the TBI. You hate to say "Ok those with a mild diagnosis raise your hand". The ones I do know are/have been in worse shape and some I am too ashamed to ask because their husbands are worse than mine and it makes me feel weird/awkward. Who am I to complain and bitch when they are facing so much worse? My husband may not have been shot in the head or had shrapnel embedded but I understand the spouse...I get it. So why feel the need to put someone down or make sure their husbands injuries gets beaten into me every single time I or someone else mentions it to some and so nastily reminded to boot?

Was my husband hurt though in the line of duty? Yes and several times over. He still hurts just like some others. Did we both lose out as the spouses? Yes. Am I hurting like you are? Hell yes. I guess I no longer fit in because I have compassion enough to say I understand and I know you are hurting no matter who they are. There are many though who have no idea what you are going through and they simply just don't give a shit how they treat people. All the while, I keep thinking "do some of these spouses NOT remember what this feeling is like to be so alone and not know what's going on or what to do? Were they mistreated so badly by prior spouses to make them so hateful to newer spouses who have questions?" I also wonder, "how many of those did my husband save during combat, getting them out of harms way...only to have their spouse treat another fellow spouse like dirt?" I think more of the ones my husband was not able to save, and suddenly, I just have no patience for those who feel the need to grind their heels into your face and spit on you. I feel out of place because of those people and don't fit in with much of anyone anymore. It was nice to have some though that did help answer questions I have had but some of the nasty ones? Just made me feel like I had no where to go anymore. I haven't walked in their shoes so they remind me, but you know what? You haven't been walking in mine either. I didn't realize it was such a competition to play the wounded soldier's injuries as it is to some women. I have no time for that. So I figure I will keep going at it by myself and fight....fight til I got nothing left to fight for all while holding up my husband while I am doing it. I will write more later on the newest developments in our crazy upside down life but right now? I am going to walk away from the PTSD and TBI and take my children outside to play for a while and think about my next move......

Anywhere But Down,

On the Fly: Project Healing Waters

2011-05-18T06:07:00.000-07:00

This week was a tough one with many obstacles to overcome and side step. One of those was getting insulted and competing with a neuropsychologist that has Alzheimer's. MUCH more on that later. One of those obstacles is trying to find something to relieve the stress and tension in my husband, as well as myself, as he hasn't been doing too good here lately. One of these "somethings" I have mentioned before, is getting involved with the Project Healing Waters organization which has a chapter here where I live and meets at our VA. After speaking a while with the State Coordinator and threatening my husband with every inch of his life about going, we attended the 8th Annual Trout Fest in Townsend, TN upon an invitation by the Project Healing Waters state coordinator, Scott Scrip and local chapter officer, "Ed".

Now yes, I know some of you will be like, "Trout Fest? Seriously?" Yes...this star spangled hearted woman dragged her husband all the way up to the mountains! We didn't have a lot of money and was quite a bit ways up the road, but they made our accommodations for us and I couldn't pass it up. I thought if I could just get him pushed in the right direction, perhaps he will find peace in the waters. Nestled deep in the Mountains of Cades Cove, you couldn't have asked for a more relaxing weekend or meet some better people. Now what do I mean about better people? Just down to earth. It wasn't about your job, the time, the money...it was just about getting out on the water and just fishing. I had to admire and somewhat envy people that can find peace like that and simpleness. I learned quite a bit, especially for a girl who only knows how to hold a pole and doesn't know a thing about any type of fishing! I wasn't sure on everything that Project Healing Waters did as an organization, but my husband used to be an avid fly fisherman when I had met him. After war, he just gave up all his interests and hobbies. The idea was to get him up there, spend a little time among other avid fly fishermen, and take him out on the river this weekend. So that's exactly what we did.

I learned quite a bit about PHWFF over the weekend as I voluntarily manned the booth they had set up while the boys went fishing. Founded in 2005, this organization originally began at Walter Reed Hospital as they taught fly tying and casting to wounded soldiers there on the grounds. It eventually grew into large groups including such organizations and chapters of the Trout Unlimited groups as well as the Federation of Fly Fishers. The organization made up of volunteers, teach these wounded individuals fly casting, tying of the flies and about the fish themselves and the resources found on the lakes and rivers. They can provide assistance, education, and learning opportunities as well as equipment, gear and fishing outings on some of the best stocked rivers around. So no matter the disability, they have someone to help you.

Author and Fly Fisher Joe Humphreys Teaching Fly Tying

Saturday, the first day we arrived, we were greeted and warmly so. The guys got my husband out on the water before the crowds got to be too much for him. My husband was a little agitated and very anxious, but by 4 the afternoon...it was like he had never laid down the pole in that short time out on the waters. While walking around and snickering over all these men comparing the size of their fly poles and bragging on their latest catch, it amazed me to be in such lovely company and how much knowledge was to be gained by utilizing our state's resources. I learned a ton just on the entomology of the rivers than I probably ever really wanted to, the right equipment and flies to get the biggest trout, but more importantly....how much the water heals the persons inner being in all sorts of people inflicted with mild to serious health concerns and issues. I met veterans of the WWII era all the way down to the Iraq and Afghanistan wars there, who's only time their demons do not haunt them, is when they are on the water. It was interesting to see how many of these people just fish and how it gives them that time to be at peace. One gentlemen told me if he could, he would fish every day. I met elderly people with health issues who seemed for that short time fishing, forget how they hurt or what parts just don't work like they used to.

I also met the group Casting For Recovery which is a breast cancer support organization that teaches fishing and helps relieve the physical and emotional pain from cancer. CFW had some great people there and I could find that talking about PTSD was relatively easy as she just "got" it. Amazing amazing stories from some really neat people. The Casting For Recovery girls make and tie their own flies then donate them to PHWFF for the wounded warriors to use out on the water so they are all somewhat connected with each other. They also get out and fish, do outings and is similar to PHWFF but for those who have cancer. I wanted to include this link because I do get from time to time emails in regards to PTSD and Cancer. Thought you ladies might find it interesting.

Hubby Fixing his Fly Vest For The Outing. He kept dropping stuff but wouldn't give up!

My husband was rather subdued when he came back off the water, in which I thought he might have been tired. It was more calm and relaxed I realized later; something I haven't seen in a very long time.We went back to our our rental cabin which to us, was more like an exotic tree house set up high in the woods. That allowed me to relax a little in the peace and quiet. We had some time to ourselves without all the fuss of the VA, disability and the Army. I took advantage of the jacuzzi tub while my husband was out there getting his fishing gear up to par for the first time in almost six years so he could be ready for the early morning fishing trip. When I was done, I sat there from the doorway seeing him working and it brought a smile to my heart and face, because finally...we reached something of his old self even for just that short period of time. It was nice to see him finally have something to look forward to and he said to me "I really missed being out there and they showed me how to do such and such". Like a child that learned something new, he was quite proud of himself and seemed happy. I had no idea what he was referring to, but I grinned and said "well thank the lord, cause if we don't find you something I am gonna have to get rid of you!". It was a nice evening in our tree house cabin and so peaceful, I didn't want to leave. He had some difficulty running his line, which if you know anything about fishing, is just about near invisible. He is having some issues with psycho-motor skills impairment now and weakness in his left hand, but he didn't give up. I sat on the arm of the chair and held the lines he needed to work with. It was nice to just take a breathe and not have to worry about anything over the weekend.

Fly Casting Clinic

On Sunday, we met back up with the guys from PHWFF and they took off to take my husband and two other disabled veterans to the mountain rivers for fishing while I once more manned the booth talking to people about the organization. It was nice to talk to these people because although familiar with the program, they hadn't seen the real thing in action in which I was pure testimony that "hey, they have my husband out there on the water right now". It spawned some renewed interest, volunteer interest and donations. It was pure luck that the photographer Randy Frank was there and volunteered his time, his film and his exceptional talent to catch our wounded warriors out on the river while fishing.

Randy did more than 160 shots and all of them are absolutely amazing with brilliant shots of the water and the looks on the faces of these men as they stood in that rushing river. His keen eye caught everything down from the lines whipping back and the right position to catch some of these amazing photographs. Randy came back afterward and just bragged and bragged on how well our veterans did and just made me laugh. I know that his kindness and exceptional eye for a photo, made me thankful he could document such a feat for my family. They weren't shots of the guys posing, or smiling...just photos of being out there and natural without a care in the world. While talking with me, Randy explained that the Budhist religion holds a strong favor towards the healing powers of the water. I believe that to be true. Looking at the photographs, it looked like my old husband out there. Just fishing and only worrying about the way the trout were hitting the flies. So Randy, if you read this...thank you sir for donating the pictures and your time. I know it may have seemed small to you, but you have given us a great gift and my boys will treasure those photographs of their daddy being "normal". Those are photographs of how we knew him. I know I will treasure them forever.

I worked the booth until the guys came back after lunch and met some of the more legendary fly fishers of the U.S. like "The Legend" Lefty Kreh. It was fun overall although I really worried that I would be totally out of my league there. The Project Healing Waters chapter took really good care of us and most definitely got my husband back out there and his interest renewed. We are looking forward to working with them in the future as well as going on different activities. They have several area activities coming up and my husband is a part of them. I am relieved and so thankful because this will give him some hope, confidence and some time to be at peace with the world around him. I think for the time he is out on the water, he just isn't so angry at the world or have the time to keep seeing war images in his head. He said its like having your brain cleared for a little while, and I could understand because it was there, in those photographs.

For those that are interested in the program for Wounded Warriors, just check out the link I provided to PHWFF and click on programs. You will need to contact your state coordinator via email or phone, which ever is listed and let them know where you are. They will direct you to the person you need to be in touch with. There are also chapters of PHWFF on FB as well for different states and parts of the states, if you are a FB junkie! Ours here, meets twice a month so it may vary from state to state. The OIF/OEF caseworkers should be aware of this program so you can ask them. If they don't, create the awareness of such programs like this! This way you are helping another Veteran in the process. This can be for the spouses and family is welcome, so those of you who are looking for some bonding time...this would be a great way to start.

Even if you don't know what you are doing, don't have a clue on what "flies" are and tying, you will fit right on in there...I promise. There is no cost, you don't need your equipment as they can help you with that and definitely fun! Project Healing Waters is a wonderful organization and you know I will give you the skinny off the cow if it didn't work for us. Check them out if you are a PTSD sufferer who likes the outdoors or you are just trying to find something different to tackle the demons. I know many of you readers are Veterans, its a PERFECT place for you. You got fishing buddies, who know when to be quiet and when to talk. There is no therapy/group talking, there is no VA hanging over you...you are just being one with the elements and with others who just "know". It's worth your time to try it.

Pass this information on to others who might utilize this resource. They are always looking to open new chapters, gain new volunteers and donations to keep it going. I thoroughly enjoyed manning the booth for PHWW and just talking with folks. It gave them an awareness about our injured military personnel I don't think they knew much about. It is also very healing for me to talk about what our life is like to others and create that awareness in regards to PTSD and TBI. I may even try to cast a line or two myself in the future!

Again, special thanks to PHWFF and I look forward to volunteering my time and seeing my husband in this program. You guys made a special impact on our lives, especially since it has been so upside down and sideways here lately. It not only gave us a break, but it gave my husband a little hope and confidence again. For that, I can't tell you how much I am sincerely thankful to have come across your program.

Confessions From The Wreckage of a Tornado

2011-05-06T17:19:00.000-07:00

Actual photo from my home

So I guess it's been a little since I have last posted.....a lot has happened since then. On April 27th, our state along with several others in the South were hit by strong tornadoes. While you were probably seeing AL, VA and GA on tv and were high in death tolls, our small community was hit hard and placed on the Federal Disaster declaration list by President Obama just this week. My area of the state of Tennessee was hit by eight tornadoes ranging from F1 to F3 back to back within a few hours that stormy night, three just in my area alone. While my home was by, the grace of God, spared.....157 of our small town residents lost everything they owned including dairy farms and farms period. Being a part of the EMS and Volunteer fire family pre-war, I pitched in where I could since last Wednesday helping to comb through our friend's and neighbor's debris of what once was their homes. Some of my husband's past co-workers/friends were among those homes that were lost. While my husband still had bitter feelings that no one helped us, when we needed them save but two...I didn't want to think that way as we are better than that.

I knew better than to be out there stepping on broken toys, bits and pieces of homes, and chided myself the whole time because I knew my mental stability probably could not handle such destruction and devastation. We have never been hit by tornadoes here and the last thing I can think of was my husband telling me before it hit was "Baby, don't worry...we never get them out here below the valley. Those mountains cradle us and it would have to jump some high ridges to get here". Well, that's exactly what happened. It jumped those ridges like the hounds of hell were on its tail and battling to see who was coming in first. I knew I probably couldn't handle such things as I drove up the road, I teared up and had to cuss myself to straighten up before I got out of the car because why did I have a reason to cry? It missed our road and hit the road next to us. Quit being a puss I told myself over and over again.

A lot of emotions rushed through me out there listening to the silence and the wind blowing. It wasn't just the thought of "Oh my God..that could have been our home scattered over a five mile radius", but other thoughts too. My mind was going off constantly and no matter what I did...I couldn't get it to turn off. Being the too big-hearted person I am, I jumped in, in search of anything salvageable. The mistress was on a mission and I tried, God knows I did. We looked for several hours for photographs, purses, prescriptions, titles and home deeds. Nothing. There were complete trailer frames bent and shifted into the size of a dishwasher. I saw women sitting in what was left of their yard, on the ground, heads held by their hands sobbing. There was no home, there was just nothing there. I experienced the choking down of sobs from an older gentlemen when I located his mother's antique postcard album she collected. All I could do was keep scrubbing off the mud and cow manure it had landed in, in hopes that maybe I could wipe away his pain. I walked where people had died and their bodies removed the day before. In all this, I could hear the crying of children blowing in the wind, and saw first hand the sure force of what Mother Nature can do to us all.

To be sifting through all of that, and crawling through wooded areas where most of the homes ended up in, in small pieces...I kept trying to choke back the tears and not sob myself. I kept swallowing and swallowing it and it got to the point I just couldn't even breathe anymore out there. I literally panicked. I couldn't handle all of it and I wanted to run. I must have drove down to my home like a bat out of hell. I came in, I got rid of the clothes, I scrubbed myself raw in a hot shower and sobbed. While my heart was breaking for those victims of the tornado, I was more angry. Yes, angry. Angry at God, angry at my husband, angry at myself, angry at the world, angry at everything. Just pure anger radiated off of me and then the shame set in. I panicked out there because I was thinking the whole time out there sifting through debris... how normal I felt.

Yes. Uncle Sam's Mistress felt normal in all the loss, destruction and heartache. What the hell is wrong with me? How sick and twisted have I become to feel that way? After I got out of the shower, my husband asked me if I was ok as he said I was pale as a ghost. I couldn't even talk to him and just went outside to sit by myself. I sat for a long time after talking to my mother in law on the phone and thought about everything. It didn't really sink in but I knew what I was thinking. I felt ashamed. I felt like I had literally just invaded those poor people's space, and couldn't feel heartache or shed those tears for them. No matter how many times I said to others "I am sooo sooo so very sorry", it didn't take their pain away. It felt hollow and insincere to me. Those words didn't mean anything to them or make it better. I wanted to feel something, I wanted to feel sadness and their heartache and instead...the Mistress felt normalcy.

In amongst the broken plates and shredded teddy bears, all I could think about was "no one really knows my family. No one out here knows my husband has such severe issues. No one will treat me differently or look at us like we have some God forsaken disease. No one will give us that "oh here he comes" look. No one will talk behind our backs because we are out here helping them. Maybe just maybe, they won't find out. I won't have to talk about the VA, or social security. I won't be asked how is it going when they really don't care but just trying to make polite small talk..maybe just maybe the next time I need help one of them will answer or pay it forward". It was just normal. It was me, out there giving a helping hand to my fellow neighbors and friends like my parents taught me to do when people are in need. I just could not cry for them. I could not cry for anyone but just myself because for that little while...it was just me being normal me.

I was doing what I needed to be doing and have so much heart to give, but it seems the world has revolved around PTSD and TBI for the last four years. Our friends have turned their backs on us, past co-workers can't even look us in the eye anymore, and some of my family members telling me I need to cut my losses and file for divorce.It wasn't like that at all being out there with these people. They just needed help, sets of eyes to search and helping hands. I was fine for a while. I walked and walked, pulling up insulation, boards and ripped up floors searching frantically for anything. Then a gentleman who had also lost his home stopped me and said "Young lady, there is a cooler over yonder with cold water and I got coffee the Red Cross sent over. There are sandwiches too. You stop for a minute and help yourself."

I stood there and all of a sudden, I couldn't breathe. At all. The world spun, there was silence and I just absolutely freaked the hell out. Here I was, I realized, in the midst of all of this and how dare I be thinking how normal I felt for just that period of time? I must have stared at him for a moment and think I mumbled a thank you sincerely but I didn't deserve that man's cold drink or coffee. He just lost everything. His home, his cars, his farm and yet...amidst it all, he offered me something. I suddenly had to leave and come home. Like a dog with it's tail tucked between its legs, I came back to my PTSD inflicted refuge here at home and haven't left since then but just today other than to take my sons to school.

It's been eating at me since middle of last week. It has plagued me like I had committed the most offensive thing a human could ever commit. The act of selfishness. I realized over the weekend....I just have no compassion left. At all. I want to hurt, I want to be saddened, I want to cry and feel everyone's pain but am just incapable of it. Hell, this is a woman that cried over sappy commercials and sobs through love stories and movies! When my Veteran tells me I don't understand or have no clue on what it feels to not feel anything at all...I beg to differ. I do know. First hand...Living with PTSD and TBI has taken everything that was in me and turned it upside down.

So rather than be out there, I turned to my fellow Army wives on facebook and other places from my safe haven as I know it. I knew that some of them could help me help these people especially since Red Cross was so small grouped. It took several days to even get people in here let alone start helping them get their lives back and cleaned up. My fellow Army wives have made me so proud and a group that I will forever be grateful to be a part of because they came through. All week this week, boxes from all over the United States came in filled with clothing, infant items, toys, books, personal items and gift cards for us to take to not just our friends, but to many many others.

We don't have a lot of money but I wanted to still help somehow. I reached out to these other spouses, asking for help and they did. Maybe it was to make up for my abrupt leave and selfish thoughts. Maybe it was to help me find my missing compassion in those boxes the ladies had sent to me to give out...maybe it was just a way to keep myself busy here so I wouldn't have to face those people that lost everything. Maybe just maybe it would make up for the horrible things I thought while out there and my selfishness. When you read about compassion fatigue or such things on other sites, you really kind of catalog it in the back of your mind for future reference. Now I think I have, in the past four years...lost my compassion period. I am not tired, it's just gone.

While I have been reading these stories of suicides and attempted suicides among caregivers/widows this past week, my heart did break because I thought those poor souls just could find no other way. I can also see why some Veterans look to that as their only way out. PTSD can be just as destructive and devastating as tornadoes can be on land. It will suck you up, twist and turn you, ripping you into shreds and drop you head first to the ground. All you can do is really hold on tight, and pray to God that you land on your feet. On Monday, the VA will start the application process for the Caregiver program which I think will have a lot of hidden "BUT's" in the qualifications. All I can think of is how this will really help me. How will this really help us to help our veterans cope with all they go through. You have these people that are sitting behind the safety of their desks thinking they got it all figured out. Print out another damn brochure, fill it with some empty words and educated guesses, and then fill us with pointless programs and worthless promises. Those brochures and failures of what little programs are out there for us, are similar to that of a tornado warning where you learned to go to the hall, get on your knees, crouch and cover your head. When push comes to shove, no matter how you try to prepare or what little you were taught....it ain't gonna help you that much if and when it hits.

I hate what the war did to my family, my husband and to me. I hate that I have lost my will to be compassionate. (Boy, wouldn't a therapist have a field day with me!) With the death of Osama Bin Laden, it should have been joyous news and it was just another bittersweet moment here. I couldn't rejoice, I couldn't say "Yay the bastard is dead"...all I could think of was "how much will this trigger him...how much hell is this going to put on my husband and then me?". Most of the time, all I can do is grab my children....duck and cover, and ride the storm out.

This post probably didn't make much sense and my point probably lost in all these words...but I felt the need to confess and not sure how to find lost compassion or even where to look. Perhaps someone out there will find my words comforting and not judge me for all of this. For my Army wives who answered my call for help, you did more than just clean out closets or go to the store to purchase items. You helped some families that were awaiting help that came late, and most definitely will make them smile and relieve them of some stress.....most of all you helped me find some peace in my tortured and confused soul this week. I love each one of you very much and proud to call you a friend.

Still Riding Out The Storm,

Penis Envy

2011-04-20T07:44:00.000-07:00

Well, it's been an uneventful last two days for me since I last posted. I spent some time off line and not really doing much of anything. I sort of felt like after Sunday, that I really didn't have any interest at all in helping my husband. His words just constantly bombarded me in my head, so it's been rough trying to shake all the nasty things he said. While my head says, all of that on Sunday wasn't directed towards me, and the comfort of knowing I am not alone in dealing with all of this....it really didn't help the hurt to go away. We haven't said a whole lot to each other and I have to admit....I have been awfully withdrawn and indifferent towards him. I don't mean to be but, I just am really sort of broken after Sunday if that makes any sense. This morning I came across another blog for Veteran Caregivers which is fairly new it looks like. This, even though I have been there and done that, reminded me again that whatever the hell that was on Sunday....wasn't my husband. It kind of gave me a little bit more sense of belonging and gained my focus back. However, the hurt is still there and he hasn't said anything about it.

My husband's shows were on last night and it was Top Shot on History Channel. I sat and watched it because although I would adamantly say the show sucks to my husband...I secretly want to be able to shoot like those competitors do. Yes, the Mistress would like to be a legendary gun slinger or Amazonian female warrior. However, admittance of such a thing would probably excite him and there we go back to having guns in the home. This would lead to buying my own gun because I know my husband and he would obsess over my not having one. After January, I don't want any type of weapons in the home which was also heavily advised upon from doctors and such.

Out of nowhere, he starts talking about this Veteran Group meetings he was thrusted into right out of the gate upon his completion of the PTSD rehab he was in. As you know, this didn't help him at all and really...only made him worse. I listened to his ranting and raving of course, figuring this would allow him to vent and get it off his chest. This particular first meeting had set him off in a number of ways..and I have to agree that it's not really making him all warm and fuzzy being there or helping him. That conversation led into being strapped for money, which led into us discussing the possibility of tightening the budget.....which led him into discussing his issues. Although he was somewhat hateful, snarky and angry...he complained he hated not being his old self and then started complaining about his buddies. He complained about the men in the commercials driving the cars, and then he started in on the competitors on Top Shot. I wasn't really upset, I wasn't really anything...I was just there and trying to grasp why he was so mad at these strangers on tv.

I listened, commented, tried to be understanding and then he just got quiet as if suddenly, someone just threw the circuit breaker on his fuses. Here I was kind of on the edge of my seat thinking any minute now, I will see the exact scene from the movie the Exorcist where her head starts spinning around, and all hell is going to explode in my living room. He just stopped. He was watching Top Shot with such deep interest, that I could have walked in the room completely naked with 50 other men and he wouldn't have even noticed. I realized then...my husband is suffering from a form of penis envy of the "normal" guys.

Ok, now I know I am going to get some emails stating psychology facts and what they have learned in school or while getting a clinical psychology degree about the term Penis Envy and "do you know who Sigmund Freud is?". Save your breath because this gal is a little educated too and yes, I did refer to my husband having a form of penis envy...not that he is suffering from Freud's exact definition of it. Let's just say this is the Mistress's definition from our "The Things You Learn From Living with PTSD and TBI" dictionary. So you are probably asking yourself "what does she mean when she is talking about penis envy"? It's simple. From the conversation last night and his complaints, my PTSD Combat Veteran doesn't bang on his chest anymore. He feels like he has had everything taken away from him, and I have been forced to take on so much because of him and for him. He is not allowed to have his guns, which for manly men...is like taking their testicles. He has to have someone help him with basic necessities, basic needs like reminding him about bathing or medicines. He has a time limit of how much time he can go out and when he is expected home, is not able to drive or perform normal every day tasks like he used to be able to. He struggles with reading, with normal every day tasks and is constantly fighting off the demons in his head at the same time. My husband was a McGuiver, give him a tool and duct tape...the man could fix anything. Now he struggles with simple tasks like changing the guts out of the toilet, something he could have done blindfolded.

I realized he wasn't angry or his complaints were without merit, just that he envied being a normal guy. He kept saying "You don't understand what it's like. I can't explain it. I have had everything in my life taken away from me. My job. My lifestyle, my body and hell, I can't even have sex without help from pills." I wanted to argue on all of this but I kept my mouth shut about it. I just listened. I realized last night when I went to bed and thought some on his conversation with me, that he felt like he didn't belong anywhere with the old crowd. He doesn't feel normal beside them, can't seem to find his place with any of his old buddies, and is envious that they are normal. It isn't envy of body,muscles,how much money they have, jobs or cars...its the fact that they are just normal and don't struggle with simple tasks. They can come and go, not get lost, and can perform like a man.

I told him that sex wasn't a serious issue with me. It really isn't. Not that it was bad, or he has serious troubles with that department downstairs. He says he has problems, I say it's fine...he says "No the hell it isn't. It's not fine with me!". He was given a prescription for Cialis, which I was concerned about since he has a long family history of heart problems and the possibility of it counteracting with his regular PTSD meds. However, I felt if it makes him bang on his chest a little, and it was safe, so be it. I don't want him thinking I am unhappy and worried that he was going to all this trouble just for me...but mostly it was just for him. To feel normal once again, somewhere...anywhere.

I felt sorry for him. I really really did. Not so much pity, but genuine sympathy for him because yes, I do understand. We as the caregivers of our Veterans find ourselves outcast-ed unintentionally by our friends and well, society in its whole. THEN you feel like an outcast or leper in your marriage. I may not know what it's like to have to depend on someone like he does, but I do envy other women. I don't fit in anywhere anymore. We as families of PTSD really kind of fall into our own category and we are constantly on the search for people like us so we do fit in. When we finally do find that someone, we don't care about who they are or what they have...it's all about "getting" it. Now I have non-PTSD friends, but sometimes I feel like they really don't get me or perhaps they really don't understand.

I also lost too. Maybe not in the sense that he has but loss is still loss no matter how you look at it. I find that I struggle finding my place not only on the outside, but here at home. I am constantly waging a battle with myself trying to figure out whether I am wife, caregiver or the evil mama who won't let him spend every dime we have, or let him go out and "play". He has his demons, I have mine. He wants to be normal, and so do I. Somewhere between all of this...I need to find a way to help him "belong" somewhere. Too I realized, I need to find a place too. I can totally understand his longing, his envy and the battles he is enduring.

I tried letting up on some of the control and allow him to do things on his own...but sometimes that backfires on us and it turns into one huge mess. I try to be supportive, encouraging and allow him room to strut those feathers...but it's not what he needs. He needs to feel that on the outside with his friends or society. I know one time he told me that it wasn't the outside that scared him, keeping him freaked out or scared all the time of getting attacked. It was the people. When he feels not-so paranoid, he feels like people are staring at him or judging him because he is sweaty, nervous, jumpy and has outbursts. I really don't know how to fix all that. The VA doesn't give us manuals on how to help in these departments and in the last four years, never really heard anyone refer to these self-esteem type of issues.

So I guess the purpose of this blog is to find out what all of you are doing to combat "penis envy" with our Veterans. Anyone else finding themselves in this situation? From the men, what could the women do to help you to make you feel more manly? Lots of questions for this Wednesday I know. I wish sometimes that we were equipped with a magic go to guide for all of this. There isn't anything I can do to protect him or anything I can say to make it any better in this area of jealousy that he has. I don't want him to shut himself off from the few friends he has left just because he feels like he doesn't fit in. I am afraid this will cause an increase in the already high amounts of depression he has. I so hope that we can eventually find a family like ours, and perhaps feel like "normals" again. Who would have ever thought four years post-war, we would find ourselves jealous of those on the outside who are normal with no issues and longing to be anyone else besides ourselves. We were totally happy with who we were and what we had......