I Have No Good Excuses But He Has Plenty

You probably thought I disappeared, huh? It's been quite some time since my last blog. I won't waste your time reading up on my lame attempt to make some excuses for my hiatus, but will say that it's been more than hectic here. There just doesn't seem to be a whole lot of time for anything anymore. My mind is foggy, my body over extended and my sanity? Well, let's just say it's on the verge of giving me a permanent eye twitch!

I fell outside and encountered my first broken bones a couple of days after my last blog posted. It was a doozy of a fall and well, I figured that was a sign from the big man upstairs that I am just doing too much. I had no choice then but to walk away from many things and try to heal. All healed up pretty decently since surgery but two fingers which are sort of frozen and unable to move. My sanity and stress level improved but while I had that much down time, I did the most dangerous thing a Caregiver could do....THINK. 2012 wasn't very kind to me and if I had endured any more surgeries that year, well I could literally be my own sprinkler system with as many holes as this body has had! 

We managed to make it through the the month of October with the help of my mother in law and my oldest son and husband. The lack of sympathy or any remote interest from my husband was disheartening but I don't know why I expected anything more from him. I find by lifting any expectations, I always fall flat on my face and end up with skinned knees from disappointment. I always wondered what happens to Caregivers who need care giving too? That is probably one of those questions that stumps irony.  Kind of like "where do doctors go when they are sick?"

It's been quite a road since Thanksgiving with the Army, husband and school for two of the three children I have. Thanksgiving I couldn't cook with one arm so we ended up grilling out hot dogs and all the fixings. Turned out to be one of the lesser stressed holidays we have ever had. My husband tried so hard and offered to take us out to dinner but in our rural area, it seems that was everyone's idea as well. Just the thought of the crowds, his reactions and all that comes with it? Yeah, the hot dog were damn good! Four days before Christmas our PEBLO decides to finally contact us and wanted everything done right then, right now which was literally impossible. He moved on to another station and I can't say I will miss him at all. Right now, we are appealing much of the MEB reports because he failed to do his part of his job, failed to add in a few important details and for some reason; proof reading and correcting things that are important went by the wayside. We haven't even heard from our new PEBLO yet and of course, she is new so it should be interesting. New people seem to always be a challenge to break in, kind of like a wild horse. It's amazing we haven't scared off our Federal Recovery Coordinator or our Army Recovery Coordinator. They must be gluttons for punishment but I am so glad they have stuck around to see us through. That, and we are probably good dinner table talk and worth a few laughs here and there! I love that I can call one and she has a great sense of humor. She must wonder if I am on the thresh hold of running a circus here.

Christmas went well with few minor hiccups along the way. My husband had some bad days but at least we didn't have to deal with suicide attempts, drinking binges or anything serious. However, New Year's came and he went to see a friend up the road and never came back. I don't know why it bothered me so badly that he just ran and disappeared, but I feel not only a responsibility for him but it was New Year's Eve too. I wanted to bring it in right and I am hoping like hell that the whole old wives tale of "what you will be doing on New Year's Eve will be what you will be doing the whole year long" is just a crock. If it turns out true, I am not going to have a good year as I spent my New Year's up all night, crying. I was hoping we would be having sex or maybe share some laughs while we watched the ball drop in New York City. At this point, I would have been happy just going to bed together early and not doing anything; not crying though because my husband stood me up for a friend that he couldn't care less for. I think I was more hurt than anything. 

Excuses and Lies

My husband has a ton of them and lying has become a serious issue now. Excuses for his behavior, excuses for where he is, excuses for getting angry, excuses to the kids, excuses for everything. I am so sick of hearing them and they are constant with no rest. If it's not a long drawn out excuse, it's a lie. He is a horrible liar and most of the time, he won't even look me in the face. I especially hate when I ask him something because I know he is lying, he looks away and says "huh? what? huh? I didn't hear you?". Seriously? It's like watching a child make up an excuse to not listen to your question and then try to back peddle into a good lie to cover the real reason why he spit on his brother or why he lost his report card which had an F on it. I am not sure why this started all of a sudden but all I can think of is dammit, haven't we already been through this in the past? I used to think that PTSD/TBI had a pattern during certain periods of the year. Holidays, major event "memory day" and the rest just falls in the "other" category. Over the past five years of living with all this, it has bettered in some areas like the abuse of alcohol and suicidal tendencies but worsened in other areas. Major events I thought we were done with but after thinking about it....it just repeats itself. Every. Single. Year. There is no break from that and I realized it's just a vicious cycle that we will repeat over and over again just a little different each time. 

I just can not tolerate lying. I try to teach my children they can tell me everything, even if it's the worst. My husband and I built our relationship on that foundation of trust, honesty and friendship. I never have had that tolerance and the worse part is? I don't lie to him and he would always tell me everything. I feel guilty NOT telling him something even now. I think the part that has the highest "suck" factor is that the lying is nothing really that important to even lie over. I mean, if you are going to lie? Lie big or go home right? Don't lie over silly small things. Now, its not the "I just forgot and I need to lie to make up for the fact I don't want to admit it" just for clarification. It's just lying to be lying. I am at a complete lost at this point and I found dealing with him this latter part of the months I have been gone, has really reduced my toleration for a lot of things.I am pulling myself further away from him to protect myself. I am starting to look away at certain behaviors because it just isn't worth the damn fight or listening to the lies. I don't know if it's him or if it's me slipping further away.

Funny isn't it, how you fall in love and when you look at this person who has swept your heart away, you don't think of what you will deal with in the future. You never really stop to analyze at that point, of what would be the whole picture because one really doesn't know right? You just know you are supposed to be a part of that person and that's all that matters. Any obstacles you can overcome you think, any burdens you will carry together and all you really focus on is happiness with that person. You just know your life is never going to be the same. Boy, wasn't that the truth! Here lately though, I feel like it's more of a "phantom limb" situation. It feels like he is still there, still a part of me but you can see it's not there. The worst part is, my trust had been broken so many times that it took a lot for me to open back up and trust him once more. One year of therapy, lots of break downs and chastising myself for not forgiving and it led me here. I don't know if he even remembers the past of the wrong doings, or even acknowledges that broken trust is truly hard to gain back. I wonder if he knows how truly hurt and disappointed I am in him right now? Does he even really care anymore about anything? Now I feel like he has broken it again and again with just stupid and tiny lies, so how does one trust again? Sometimes I wonder if he knows that I still think he hung the moon just as I did the night I met him? Regardless of the bad times, I never once faltered on that thought.......

Sometimes I question the whole "is this it for the rest of my life?" probably just like my husband does. I am sure everyone does, I don't care who you are. I mean you fall in love, you get this person in your life that you love and learn to lean on. Then all of a sudden your on your own. Seems somewhat unfair and I have to question the whole "plan" for me because I just don't get it. So far God has given me the strength to carry my family and myself through, the courage to take on more but what are we really gaining? That part bothers me the most and heaven help me, I just want a small hint. Anything that says "this is where you are heading" because right now? The directions I am seeing are more like my stupid GPS with the lady and her perfect voice stating "recalculating" over and over again. Yeah...ain't that the truth!

There are days where he is truly appreciative of things I do for him or how much time I put into advocating or representing him. I do not hear "I love you" which to me I long for more than anything else. I wonder why three words are so hard? Often I wonder if that means he doesn't anymore? There are other days though, he could care less and I don't think he "sees" me anymore. As long as things go the way he wants them to, as long as it benefits him....it's all great. Of course it is, it's great for him. Anyone else though be damned. I hate thinking this way, and like I said before...thinking is dangerous for us caregivers and spouses. Thinking to me is like mopping. You start mopping but sometimes we don't always pull out the fridge or the oven right? (if you do every time you mop, that's just weird) All that stuff gets built up under there but eventually sometime, you clean under there. When you pull it ALL out, you are horrified at how much shit comes out. Yeah....that's what thinking is to me. Strange way of describing it but then who said I was normal right?

I wanted so badly this year to be a better year, but so far it really hasn't impressed me much. I will say I am trying to focus more on me. Maybe that's where we are all going wrong. Perhaps we should just think of ourselves and "put on our safety O2 mask before others". I think many of us caregivers focus on everyone else but themselves and I know how hard that is to change. I am the worst to take on everything for everyone at any time and its exhausting. So I am trying to get caught up, better organized, finally catching up to some movies I want to watch, and even bought myself an Xbox game. Now for many of you who don't know me, I haven't played a game system since Nintendo and Sega came out although I was the queen of Pacman and Donkey Kong once upon a time. I was pretty good at Super Mario Brothers too. Haha! I made myself a promise I would keep blogging and just putting it on my weekly "list of things to do". I am trying to keep up more on my facebook page, I taught myself to "tweet" (@Unclesamsmiss) in which I am quite proud of (yes, USM is not technically savvy; see above mentioned GPS comment) and planning on skipping town to see my sister who lives in AZ in which I haven't seen in years.

I am trying to do more things with  my sons albeit hard because I feel some of it should be done by/with daddy and he just can't do it. I realized my two younger sons, due to living in a rural area, have never ridden a bicycle which I hope to remedy soon (somehow). Leaves me wondering how the hell I will find the strength or the courage to teach my oldest son to drive who started Driver's Ed this semester. I honestly did try the whole "list positive things" on a piece of paper or journal bit that's been going around as a bit of therapy for Caregivers. I so far had a few positives like "we are all here", "we are all healthy somewhat", and the rest? Well, I had "I positively suck at the MEB stuff", "this list positively sucks", "I completely suck at Walking Dead on Xbox because I can't figure out the damn controller", "This list sucks" and "this list positively sucks ass". Perhaps that's why so many major organizations don't want to accept me as a writer....it's my award winning positive thinking isn't it? **cheesy grin**.  Hey, at least no one can accuse me of not being honest.

So here I am. 

Still alive.

Still trying to figure everything out and crossing off the things I don't understand.

Come On, 2013...

Mama needs a new lease on life. 

Recalculating, Recalculating, Recalculating,

  

What's It's Like To Live With PTSD and TBI

 

I recently went to the grocery store the other day and as I was loading the car up, someone saw a sticker on another car's window that said "Medicated for your protection-Veteran with PTSD". My husband and I have always maintained a good sense of humor and not been ashamed of his injuries including his PTSD. We recently ordered such a sticker for our vehicle and obviously the owner two cars down, had the same sense of humor as us. As the lady walked past with her husband, she said "I wonder what it's like to live with someone with PTSD?" with the same disdain in her voice as if she asked "what's it like to live with a monster?". I hung my head in shame as they walked on chatting about what they thought our lives would be like but as for me? I didn't even have an answer at that time and so I let them walk on by. Normally, the Mistress would be the first to stand up and educate, erase stupidity and hope like hell that the media hadn't completely ruined someone's idea of what these invisible wounds are. I just couldn't and didn't have the strength that day.

On the drive home, I asked myself "what is it like to live with PTSD and TBI?" and the answers flooded me as the silence of the car wrapped its safety blanket around me. I had to pull the car over to the side where I could rest my weary head against the steering wheel and just let the tears come. Why could I have not stood up and said "You want to know what it's like? Here ya go, Lady".

It's waking up every day not knowing who you will wake up beside or what kind of mood he will be in.

It's living with a total stranger that you must care for and be treated like the enemies they fought against in Iraq.

It's eating breakfast, lunch and dinner at home or out always every day, by yourself even when your Veteran is with you. 

It's never having your spouse to talk to anymore. 

It's trying to soothe the fears of people he can see on the side of the road even when you don't even know why he is so afraid or what to say to make it all go away.

It's assuring him that bags of trash or dead animals on the side of the road are not roadside bombs.

It's not being allowed to enjoy happiness, love, or things you can enjoy because he gets jealous and ruins it.

It's being blamed for everything that went wrong, including what happened in Iraq. 

It's sleeping next to someone who never goes to bed without nightmares and you learn to expect each and every sleep walking move he makes. 

Its watching someone every day who gets worse with OCD behavior that you can't explain or understand. 

It's lying to your friends, family, co-workers, and acquaintances that "everything is just fine" including yourself.

It's being challenged in every way possible with some obstacles so difficult that you don't know how to get past them. 

It's loving someone who hates everything about you no matter how hard you try or how much you help them.

It's fighting for someone and loving them so much that you sacrifice it all only to have them push you away.

It's having someone be so terribly cruel and know it, but finds it easier to walk out the door than saying "I'm sorry". 

It's knowing medications, appointments, and his VA medical records like the back of your hand and not know when your last or next doctor's appointment is, or even when the last time you had a break to yourself.

It's taking care of them every single day when they are sick, but never get the same in return. 

It's a game of pleasing, soothing, calming and redirecting twelve or more hours a day just to keep some sort of peace in the house. 

It's being a single parent and having to explain to your smaller children that their daddy really isn't mad at them, he is just sick. 

It's juggling parenthood trying to be both mom and dad at the same time. 

It's having every special occasion ignored, sabatoged or completely forgotten about. 

It's having everything taken away from you and not understand where it went. 

It's not being allowed to cry, grieve, be angry or have feelings hurt because you are supposed to be what they want you to be. Mine would rather have us all miserable than enjoy anything he can't.

It's fighting against something much larger than yourself and wounding yourself in the process. 

It's having to take care of yourself without help from your partner because they just don't care and don't want to.

It's not being able to have civilian friends or even normal military friends because they just don't get it. 

It's finding comfort among others like us because we don't have to explain or be ashamed of their behavior.

It's walking a crumbling walkway and losing your footing with no one to catch you if you fall. 

It's talking rationally with an irrational person.

It's having your heart trampled on every single day but still finding the strength to keep going even when they tell you they would rather be dead. 

It's saving their life only to have them blame you for it every day thereafter. 

There are days where I swear I don't know where the strength comes from. Other days, I am so weary to the bone that its hard to put one foot in front of the other. There are days where I feel sad for him and that makes up for half of what he has done wrong. There are days where I know I am all he has. Other days I love the hell out of him. There are other days where I wished I hadn't saved his life. It's living the whole concept of Misery Loves Company because even when good things happen....we don't know how to react because we have lived in chaos, stress and bitterness so long that it's what we are used to. It's wanting more out of our lives and still getting hurt, even though you know in your heart and mind, that is all you are ever going to get from them. It's being in a crowd and knowing that not one single person hears you no matter how loud you scream. It's knowing he will never hear you at all.

It's a battle with the world, with them, the government, the military and with yourself. You argue back and forth the reasons why you should stay or why you should run on a daily basis. The list grows every day with reasons on both sides of the argument leaving you no answer that is reasonable. It's living without a safety net to catch you if you fall and knowing there is no future that you can count on because you can only take it day by day, hour by hour. It's watching them forget things, get frustrated because they are no longer able to live a normal life, and watch them helplessly sinking further away from you when some days bring them the truth that they are disabled for the rest of their lives. It's not knowing what else you can do to help them and when you reach out your hand to hold theirs, they smack it away. It's taking on the world for them and sometimes winning, only to have them not care one way or the other. It's backing them up only to find them turn away from you when you need them the most.

There are days that we live for when they smile, laugh a little, and try just a little harder. That's what gives us strength. There are others where the bad side comes out and you are worried not just for you and your family, but for them too. It's up and down, side to side and never knowing which direction you are going.  It's about survival, holding your family together through the tough times and not having all the answers. Sometimes, we lose it all. PTSD alone can be like a pack of hungry piranhas going after the first drop of blood that is spilled and not knowing whether we as the family will walk away whole. Other times, laughter and a good mood can build us back together.

That's what its like to live with PTSD and TBI. 

I wondered all day today if I had simply spoke up...would that woman have listened and maybe not have such a nasty tone and disregard for us? Or would she simply just not care. My husband cared enough to go overseas and fight proudly. I cared enough to wait for him to come home and gone through hell ever since for people like her. I wonder from time to time, how many people really care and appreciate what they have and what they have been given. Does anyone really care about anything anymore other than themselves?

We Are More Than A Bumper Sticker,

Forgiving Doesn't Mean Forgetting

I've sat here at my computer much of yesterday and today debating how I could blog about anything. Can't really say things are much better, can't lie and hide my feelings by posting about a recent rant or a new resource I discovered. I simply just can't write but write it ALL out. How do I get my true feelings out without being looked upon as a bad wife? How do I prevent myself from feeling guilty? Would I look like the worst parent in the world? Would I become the worst caregiver to my husband? Then I thought of how would I suffer in silence without saying a word or screaming at the top of my lungs. I don't think I can do that. My heart can't stand the pain anymore. My heart is too heavy and overflowing. I thought the words would easily flow but yet, here I still sit........

(one hour later)

I once read a stupid self-help therapy book that said if you say to yourself, mentally or out loud, or to the person you needed to say it to; that the simple words "I forgive you" would easily take away the pain, bitterness, regrets, hatred, and pent up feelings that fester in a wound that just won't heal. So last weekend, while my husband seemed a little on the irrational side, and I was at my breaking point with "You might be poisoning my night time meds in order to kill me"; I looked at him squarely in the eye and told him "I forgive you".  I forgave him for taking away my life. I forgave him for making our family miserable. I forgave him for all the hurtful words, the verbal assaults he gave me, the drinking, the cheating, the lying and most of all....I forgave him for disappointing and letting me down. I forgave him for robbing any happiness that may come to our family. I forgave him for hating himself so much, that he can't even allow people to love and help him.

As soon as I said it, he looked confused and taken back. He couldn't reply to any of what I said. He just looked at me with his empty, soulless eyes, and said "ok?". I simply woke up that Saturday morning and decided I wasn't going to fight anymore. I am not going to worry about how he is destroying himself. I will not yell, scream or get into a useless, never ending argument that always leaves me walking away with tears soaking my face and my head hung low. I don't know what made me wake up and have a self discovery, but for once, I just got so tired of walking on the edge and so very very weary of battling this on my own. He isn't even trying at all. I realized for the first time on our Wedding Anniversary, that my husband just didn't care enough to fight for us at all.

I felt free. I felt overwhelmingly empty of all of it. I took a deep  breathe and actually felt the release. I made myself a promise that I would never look back again. I felt like I had finally had peace. I was thinking to myself while smiling, that hey, maybe that self-help quack really knows what the hell he is talking about. I firmly believed in what I told my husband. I meant what I said, and I truly just let it all go. There would be no more go-to Rolodex of wrong doings in my memories, tucked away for future battles leaving me unarmed for any war that the PTSD beast could bring upon me. I threw down the white flag saying I let him win. If he wants to fight, I will take the kids and go. I will not engage in an argument, I will not tolerate name calling on his part, or blaming me for something I had nothing to do with. I accepted what was done is done, and there is no going back. All those nights and days wasted, can't be changed nor can they be made up. I told him he would have to find another goat to lay all his troubles on.

I thought I was free.

I laughed this week. Shared conversations with my good friend Brannan at Family of a Vet, who always just knows how it is and has the soothing voice and knowledge to make me realize I am not to blame. She doesn't have the answers either, just like me. In her own world, she has so much on her but never fails to tell me to call anytime no matter what. She is someone I love dearly, respect in the highest manner and damn, am I so proud of her. Her cup, plate and bowls are completely running over and yet, here she is telling me its ok. I have to say, that if I didn't have that woman in my corner, wiping my brow after a boxing match...I am not sure what I would do. I thought yesterday after talking with her, that its been going on six years since I stumbled upon her site when it was the only one out there for PTSD and TBI. I sat and made plans to try and promote her site by volunteering at a few events, hoping to give myself some purpose. To help her to help others while repaying in my own way all the cheering she did from the stands, and giving us wives the courage to keep going. I decided just because my husband hated the world and wanted to punish himself, didn't mean that my children and I had to do the same.

The one thing that bothered me after a four hour talk with him, was that never once did he say "I forgive you". I have never lied to my husband, never let him down, spent or snuck a dime of his money without asking for it or discussing it, never cheated, never been where I wasn't supposed to be. I have always been there for him so I have the most to be upset about. All I can think of now, is that he is angry at me over one burned, twelve year old damned meatloaf, an argument three years ago that he was so nasty and terrifying that I told him we needed to separate, and everything else? All in his head with a combination of his irrational thinking, his paranoia and things he watches on television. Day before yesterday? It was because of cauliflower in a pot of homemade vegetable soup. For years, made the same way, maybe some different vegetables. For whatever reason, this set him off. I will never eat cauliflower again. This morning, I may decide not to even cook for a while.

Since my last blog, it has been somewhat tolerable, albeit up and downs in mood with him. I ignored the downs, blocking out my ears with music which I think irritated him because I didn't let him upset me. I reminded him once more, that as of last weekend...that was it for me. White flag thrown remember? One minute he is laughing, kidding around with the children, cracking jokes even at my expense, and just chit chatty. Another minute, he is obsessed with his smart phone, a fishing rod, the latest news about something in a foreign country and other weird things. When he is in a good mood...I really just want to waller in it like a pig in slop. I want to be happy, overjoyed in the mud of normalcy and laughter because God knows I crave it so much. Yet the past few months have been extremely difficult for us and the good moods? They give me the creeps. They worry me. Why I don't know...I just can't seem to enjoy any of it. I want to so badly, but I can't help that uneasiness creeping up my brain and wondering what the hell has he done now? I end up angry because before I know it, here comes the bad and dammit...I should have enjoyed the moment. They come so few and far between these days. There is no safe place to make me happy anywhere. I think in fairness to myself though, its because its easier to set up defenses than it is to relax and get hurt. I hate that I have become so suspicious and can't enjoy the "few and far betweens". In all fairness though, if it weren't for all of his past behaviors and the damage he caused and still causes...what else am I supposed to believe?

We as family members spend so much time giving it all up to take care of our Veterans. When they speak about the National Debt, the costs of the war, the costs of lives given, no one ever mentions this part of it. Wonder if somewhere on the latest report do they average in how many families are falling apart. Is the cost of therapy for our spouses, family members and children on there somewhere? Do they average out a 3 year old's next 15 years of possible issues? Probably not. Our Veterans don't care or acknowledge how much we give up or how hard we work. They don't care as long as they can keep everyone just as miserable as they are. It can be something so small, or something really important to us and they just rip it away taking it all.

We learn day to day to cope with what we are handed, not knowing from one minute to the next, what the next hour will bring. We learn to minimize our feelings to the point that they are numb and we no longer can feel happiness, joy or to be honest with you....really give a shit anymore. We play the game daily, carefully choosing our pawns to wager against that of our opponent. Sometimes we deal with a strategic move, thinking it through and carefully choosing where to move. The next? We simply close our eyes, take a breath and hope like hell it works while we make our move. We give up what we love, what makes us happy to prevent an argument. We silence our selves so it doesn't upset them because that leads to an argument. It's easier to give up than to deal with so much crap because we fight to hang on to those things. We dance to the symphony of the moods, not understanding where one foot leads to the next, and before you know it.....we are left clumsy, stumbling and leading our partner and family without direction.  After the song has ended, you see his hand slip from yours easily like sand falling through your hands.

I have no direction anymore. I can no longer dance the dance because dammit, the music ended a long time ago. I wonder every day, why am I chosen for all the blame? I used to make myself stronger, believing that the old part of him trusted me and the PTSD beast knows its ok to take it out all on me. Now my armor is wearing thin. My heart is broken in pieces and scattered from the hurtful words he attacked me with. My forgiveness I gave, suddenly all came rushing back and I realized...I don't believe forgiving will always mean forgetting. It amazes me he can throw up in my face ONE burned meatloaf twelve years ago when we first got together, but can't remember other daily tasks. I thought I could forgive and make my mind believe I had forgotten. It's hard when you have someone throwing up tiny, non-monumental, normal screw ups by someone who has done nothing but screw up and doesn't care how it hurts. I really want to say "Hi Kettle, this is pot calling". I thought and hoped I could make myself believe that it didn't hurt every day.

So how does one truly forgive and forget? I don't know if there is a true answer or a correct one. I keep trying. God knows I do. The asinine thing in all of this rambling? I do love him. He still makes my knees go weak. I still see from time to time, my old husband. I thought if I held on tight and didn't let him go, he would eventually be able to stand on his own again.  I wish I could make him turn around and look at me like he did once upon a time. I still every day, keep asking "what have I done that was so wrong?" and trying to debate my moves the past five years.

We are now going in our sixth year of him being home, and he is just getting worse. I've grown weary of it all and still after my mini revelation of forgiveness, I can't forget. I wish I could...I really do. How do you do that when someone is constantly reminding you of their wrong doings? Second chances turn to 30 more, never looking back turns to always watching over your shoulder, being alone is terrifying because you are scared to break down, and loving someone you can't figure out, loves you or not...all will just about drive you insane. I bet that is not on the bottom line of the governments war debt or even on the list of "Maybe we will give a shit later".

I'm not giving up. I have fought too long and come too far, a bulk of it on my own. I just feel like I am torn and confused. I don't know what to do anymore, hold no more aces in my back pocket, and most of all....scared that this will be the rest of my life.

I Still Forgave,

Back to School with PTSD and TBI

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,