Veteran's Surplus-Guest Blog

We have quite a bit going on right now with Social Security Disability, MED Board and PEB. I have been meaning to get these guest posts on here for a while now, so going to start adding them in when I have too much on my plate. I welcome family members, Veterans and organizations that live, work, or help our Veterans and their families with PTSD and/or TBI. Please Welcome them all. ~Uncle Sam's Mistress

Hi everyone!  First, I want to say thank you to Uncle Sam’s Mistress for letting me guest blog on her site.  The project I’m here to talk about today, Veteran’s Surplus, is very near and dear to my heart.  Unfortunately, I am a tiny voice in the blogging world and haven’t been able to get it off the ground on my own.  I’m so grateful that USM is willing to let me use her platform to get the word out.

Before I go into the details of VS, I will tell you a little about myself.  My name is Brittany, I’m a semi-anonymous blogger at Delightfully Awkward.  My blog falls in the “daily rambles” category because I talk about pretty much any and everything.  Some are veteran specific issues, some are education related (especially lately, with graduate school drama), some are about being a Southern transplant (although not for much longer!)…you get my point.  But I’m not here to talk about myself.  I’m here to talk about my project, Veteran’s Surplus. 

Veteran’s Surplus is an idea that I came up with because I felt alone.  When my husband first joined the Army, I felt alone (this seems to be a pattern in my life, huh).  Then, I was blessed to find a wonderful (and large) online community of Army Wives who were my lifeline when I had no idea what was going on.  Once my husband ETS’d (meaning his contract ended), I hoped for a Veteran version of the same thing.  You see, my active duty friends no longer understood the position we were in.  The people who had once provided me with PCS and re-deployment were unable to help with the G.I. Bill or disability services.  We may not be active duty any more, but I assure we do not feel like civilians (and civilians can definitely tell we are not like them).  I often feel like I’m living in an odd limbo world, where I don’t quite belong to either sector.

So I created Veteran’s Surplus.  The goal of VS is to be a master “link list.”  Basically, I want anyone in the veteran community (veterans, veteran spouses, veteran children, veteran workers…anyone who deals with veterans) to provide a link to their blog here.  I will then put all of these blog links in one list, on the VS page.  I also ask that if you provide your blog link, you take the Veteran’s Surplus button and put it on your blog.  Then anyone who clicks the button will be brought to the VS page and have the opportunity to not only share their own blog, but to find other blogs (and people) who are dealing with the same issues.  Whether you are a blog that focuses solely on Veteran issues such as Uncle Sam’s Mistress, or you are a jumble of things that just happen to include Veteran topics (such as me), I highly encourage let’s be honest, I beg you to come link up.  This project means so much to me, and I think it could have a wonderful impact if done properly.  But I can’t do it alone- my one little blog is hardly much of a list!  I want to help bring the veteran community together, and I hope you will help me in that quest.

-Brittany

A Damage Control Confession for the US Army

I am going to write about this because after a long debate, a healthy cry yesterday and many questions to my dearest friend, Brannan, over at Familyofavet.com and to NotAlone.com; I came to the conclusion that there isn't enough said about some parts of living with PTSD and TBI. We bloggers pick and choose based on what we can say, who knows us, and whether we think its relative to our readers. Then we must debate the decision on whether we can write it out, find the right words that make sense, and do our best to hide the pain and the shame. I thought this particular blog, based on many emails and Facebook messages, relative. Some of you may judge me, some may be disappointed that I am admitting I don't have all the answers, and some may offer advice or criticize me for my confessions here. If that is the case, so be it. I will simply add it into my long and lengthy list of damage control that is my life right now.....

Love, Faith, Trust and Marriage all come with a cost I think when it involves the military. When your loved one comes home a changed person, and there isn't a physical scar to look at and blame....your world becomes upside down. You are challenged in so many ways that you never know what is "easy" or "normal" anymore. You find that the military just throws away what is broken, leaving the family to pick up what's left of the discarded pieces they sent back to us. The ones diagnosed with PTSD are far better off than the ones with the lame excuse of Personality Disorders that the military and the VA label soldiers to keep from having to deal with them. You become just another number and statistic in the VA system. It's just the way it is. There are good days, and then there are bad ones. There never seems to be a safe middle for all of us. "For better or for worse; In sickness and in health" is not only challenged in great lengths in your marriage but you find that you are constantly defending yourself and your wounded warrior against the outside world. It's easier for those to see physical wounds and say "Ohhhh I see. I'm so sorry. I appreciate your service." To the spouse its expected that "you just have to stick with it". When its not seen....you automatically see the question in people's eyes, the ignorance of the subjects spews forward, stupid remarks are made and then people are quick to judge. Then it's very easy to say "screw him/her and leave him/her". It's hard to explain but I always wonder if those would leave their spouses if they suddenly had cancer or a bad car wreck?

Our trip to Florida was wonderful. My husband did so well and much of the time I knew he was in pain but trying to cover it up for the sake of our children. I planned breaks, made sure everything wasn't overbearing or overwhelming but I knew he struggled. He didn't want to ruin this one memory and I know I was hard on him before we left for just that reason. Selfishly, I wanted this one week to be the best week we have had since the war. He kept telling me he didn't want to ruin our trip and just this once, give us this. I told him that if he felt overwhelmed, then we could just stay and not go anywhere. We could spend a lazy day at the pool at the hotel or maybe just take a nap. Something...anything to barter with the underlying beast that struggled to rear its head. I wanted to give my children the time of their life and a part of me was hoping that we could spend our evenings in the Florida sunsets and spend a little long, over due, quality time after the kids were in bed. This was our first family vacation and one that was given to us. One that we have never been able to take them on, and one that I know as a mother...we will never be able to give them again in my lifetime. Most children get to go to the movies, parks, have sleep overs...but not ours. We can't really even take them out to eat.

The week went smoothly with minimal issues, although quality time together didn't happen. Instead of de-stressing me as the gift was intended, it caused me to be more stressed out. I was so proud of him and made sure I told him how proud I was but in the back of all of our minds...we kept waiting for the explosion. I can't kid myself though I tried, I did see it in his face. I felt the tension, I saw the look of confusion and mental anguish but he kept telling me he was fine. I wanted to allow him freedom and some say on the trip so I trusted his "I'm ok". That was until coming home on Saturday. I can only guess that pinning it up for a whole week, struggling with the beast and fighting the demons off for a few days proved to be too much for him and Sunday evening...he exploded.

I will admit this, because everyone knows now as far as the VA, Unit, Federal and Recovery Coordinators etc. Sunday proved to be the worst episode, next to last year's suicide attempt, that we have experienced. I am ashamed to say that my husband hurt me, damaged our home, and when I reached out for help....the Sheriff's department came and arrested him. He was belligerent, confused, didn't know who he was or where he was, so angry that he was purple and spitting as he screamed, and crying like a baby all while laughing. I thought he needed medical treatment, the police felt differently. The Sheriff told me my husband was "off his damn rocker", so I guess the best solution was to throw him behind bars because well that helps doesn't it? (Note my sarcasm) The VA suggests that you call the Veteran's crisis line, and I tried many times only to find the number that I dialed led to a sex number for men. It could really..only happen to me. Of course, this isn't the VA's fault...it was my shaking hands and not being able to see with tears. It figures the time I get upgraded to a fancy touch screen phone and not knowing how to operate the damn thing...this sort of thing happens. The only thing next I could think was to call a friend who worked for the Sheriff's department and is a recently returned Veteran himself. Battle to Battle I thought with someone he trusted, could back him down...but he was so far gone by that point. I have to admit I didn't recognize my husband at all that night.

Last year seeing a gun in his mouth was easier to digest for whatever reason and I know that sounds harsh but there I said it. I think its because in "our" worlds, its somewhat become expected that eventually it will lead to a suicide attempt. Even if the Veteran doesn't have any tendencies, talk or mentions it...the family member automatically absorbs that protective state and expectations from the news and related organizations, groups and articles you read. After hearing for years how he wished he had died over there and not come home....it just didn't shock me as much to have to deal with that incident than it did this one. In the back of my mind, I knew that moment would eventually come and somehow I found the strength. I was able to help him and get him to the emergency room. I found the courage afterward and I stood up for him, all while being scared to death on the insides. I still haven't gotten over last year and now trying to reconstruct my feelings and thoughts on this episode.

While it was tough, extremely traumatic, and a difficult time....I dealt with last year better than this episode. This time I had no answers. I had no rock to lean against. This time I had no way out or in my panic mode, didn't have a clue what to do. There isn't an emergency manual or box that reads "in case of emergency break glass". I have prepped my children with safety plans, in which they remembered and followed through that day; but there just isn't enough preparation to give you that sense of everything is going to be ok.

As a courtesy, the Sheriff's department who hold many "once upon a time" friends now, kept him overnight in jail and to see if they could get him to calm down. They did refuse his medications, and would not allow his service animal to accompany him but because it was a welfare check called in on my behalf by his Veteran friend, he had no other choice but to go on a pending domestic assault. Sunday late evening, left me feeling so ashamed, confused, hurt and extremely embarrassed for the both of us. The wounds went much deeper than physical and my God the verbal part of the whole thing left me reeling. They still are. All I could remember was hearing the sound of breaking vinyl siding on the side of the house and the breaking of furniture outside while I was trying to frantically talk him down through the door. For the first time since the Army sent my husband's "shell" home, I was terrified.Through all that, I could not help but think of the woman from the MED board tell me that I wasn't trying hard enough. I wished I could have video taped it and sent it to her and said "Dear So and So, see how much you can try with this shit!"

Seeing the blue lights haul him away, I sunk to my knees and I started sobbing hysterically. I don't even remember my EMT friend coming and checking me for injuries. I just kept sobbing. It was fine at 1:30 that afternoon. He was doing great at 3 p.m. with nothing going on. I just kept thinking how did I miss all of it? How could I have not seen this coming? I am the first one to say physical abuse is NOT ok, and the one to tell others to get help and here I was...the victim. To be honest with you and looking back over the last couple of days...I handled the physical pain better than I did the verbal assault the PTSD Beast launched at me. It was a full out war leaving me with no way to fight back. A war in what I felt, was the safest place you could ever be in. A safe haven from the storm because I made it that way for him. I have spent the last five years making this battleground hold some kind of peace. It's all we can do as family. We did it alone with no help at all from the Army. I did it with no help from anyone.

So much hate came from him. I didn't and still don't understand. Much of his anger had nothing to do with me. Much of his verbal assaults had no ties to me. I couldn't understand where it came from. It's been five years since he came home and everything this family has done has been for him. We no longer have memories that aren't scarred, we no longer have our own identities, we no longer have friends who care, and we don't matter to anyone. The only real friends I have who answered my call in the middle of the night were friends whom I have never met face to face and literally live inside my computer. I have taken on the world for him losing everything I had that was important to me because I meant it when I said I loved him. We have been dropped in the cracks and forgotten about. We have been tossed in the trash by the Army with no care what happens to us later. We have been walked on by our friends and passed by when we were there for them. We have been told that we would be helped only to have those who promise, never return phone calls. Our unit just wants to cover their asses in front of Battalion. I don't care who reads this because its the truth. The flat, "oh great now all this is going to come down on me" tone that asks "how is he?" still resounds in my head from last year. This time, it was them calling us and asking my husband for the police report and charges. There was none to give them but the day after he came home, it was the wrong time to work him up and then demand paperwork we didn't have, and not once....did they ask if we were ok.

I don't even recognize myself anymore. This Mistress who stood proud, who took on not just our VA, but the entire system. The one who stuck her chin up and took on the US Army, the Marines, and the Pentagon. The one who still stood tall when our unit I worked so many hours for, threw us to the side and treated us like lepers when my husband couldn't serve anymore. Yet, the one person I could not handle or take on...was my own husband who views me as his worst enemy. It is a defeat in its own when you can't fight PTSD or love them enough to help them. Although you try and try, its just not enough. All I could think Sunday night was how could I have handled that episode differently? Was I to blame? Was that vacation really worth it? What could I have said to him to make it better? I have waded through oceans of paperwork, spent thousands of hours on the phone, fought until I was exhausted, took care of everything all while taking blows from the outside; just to protect my family. Right now? All I can think of now is...Damn you Uncle Sam. Damn you U.S. Army. Damn you all. YOU LEFT ME ALONE TO DEAL WITH IT ALL.

My husband was placed in hold overnight but with no charges that will stick. The District Attorney understood the situation and told me I was doing a hell of a job. All I could was smile at him thinly and think "must not be doing that great of a job". The sheriff's department entered that he had no memory or no idea where he was during this moment, and he really didn't. He was there physically but somewhere his mind was just completely gone. An agreement was reached that no bail/bond was needed and that he was court ordered to go into counseling more than once a week. It's been a long time coming. He has refused to talk about Iraq, talk about what is bothering him, and maybe this is what he needed. I walked up to the podium after the judge asked me about releasing him into my custody, with no charges and I stood proud. Among child killers, child abusers and molesters, a murderer of six, a seven time offender, a drug user who killed a prostitute stood my husband white faced, shaking and in shackles and chains.

I don't know what was more horrifying; dealing with Sunday or seeing his head hung low and tears falling. I wanted to go up there and smack him upside the head. I wanted secretly inside to just walk out and let him be fed to the wolves for all the hell he has put me through. When his name was called though, I just couldn't. I caught his eye and the tears falling and knew then...no matter what, he needed help. He didn't belong in chains and a orange jumpsuit. He needed a therapist and a psychiatrist, not just pills. I stood up for my husband and I once more helped him out.

With a mediator involved, medications in him and a good hot meal....I told my husband that would be the last time his hands ever hurt me. He would go to counseling not just to keep him out of jail or fear of charges brought against him, but to get help and to continue it long term. If he doesn't follow through, I will no longer be there to help him. I explained to him that I just couldn't keep picking up the messes he made and go on with a smile. I know my husband can trust me, and knows I will always be there to have his back. I will NOT carry him though and Monday I told him until he does something for himself, my hand will not be there anymore to hold his. I think being there and seeing where he could end up, if had not been a lenient judge...honestly scared the hell out of him and into treatment. Looking back over the past couple of days and listening to him to talk with the VA, I think perhaps this was the best thing that could have happened to him. He has given in to the beast without a fight and not even tried. My husband has never been in trouble, not even a single speeding ticket. To go through all of that with his dissociation and paranoia at an all time high, hopefully will put a boot up his ass that I couldn't find large enough to shove him in the right direction.Trying to fight back is all I have ever asked for.

He can cover and hide very well, using manipulation when needed. The lying, the sneaking around, the garbage disposal of a mouth, selfishness, self pity all has to be worked on and those are my demands right now. I guess we will see whether he will follow through. So far though he has been on the ball and working more with his service animal. He has always worked him but not with so much interest and fervor like he is now. I am hoping he has seen the light perhaps being in the back of that car and in jail. Hoping that he saw a sign that he is literally at the end of the road where I can no longer lead him.

I have since been in a fog. I can't seem to process much of what's going on right now with everything. Social Security must be trying to set a record hearing date, as they scheduled one within four days. It's been a blur trying to get MED board stuff done and then dealing with the VA to get him help. Unfortunately, it took the VA hearing he got arrested to get serious about getting him treatment. I guess I should thank them for being on the ball on Monday, but inwardly I wanted to scream at them "Is THIS what you needed to see? Is this how it's done?" Its been years we have asked for help and that medications weren't helping. I am starting to wonder if they are even listening to us family members and jokingly to myself, I could see them probably labeling us with personality disorders. I finally broke down and admitted to needing help/counseling for myself and while I am at it, getting some for my children through Not Alone.org which have been very kind to me. Family of a Vet of course, is my family and has been there all the way this week. I don't know what I would have done without them.

There is no point to this particular blog. I don't really have a purpose or a story to tell, except that I feel alone. No one wants to talk about this part of it. I will suck up the shame, bite the embarrassment, hold my head up high and be the first to talk about this in first hand experience. Mostly because right now? I feel like I am the only one going through this although the smart part of my brain knows better. I know there are more of you out there. I just wanted you to know you aren't alone. I don't know all the answers and I feel like a fake as many of you think I do. Truth be told, I am just learning as all of you are. Only difference is I put it out in words. I am hoping that my husband will take this and go with it. I think having that personal scare and going through what he did, will give him a new direction that I just simply could not. After that? Who knows....I guess we will take one day at a time and one hurdle as they come. It's all we can do right now. I don't know how to move forward from this, or even if I can stop the words that he said from echoing in my head but I am not giving up on him. Most of all, I am not giving up on myself. It's more than I can say for the government and the Army who just walked away from all of us.

Still Seeking the Calm After The Storm,

The End of Old and The Beginnings of the New

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,

Are We To Blame?

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.

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

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,

Shunned and Shamed

 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?