Another friends post, home coming.

I live with two companions who sit on my left and right shoulder and whisper into my ear. One is named delusional while the other one is named rational. Delusional tries to convince me that I am still in a war zone while rational tells me that everything is okay and that I am safe at home. Though I tend to listen to rational more often, my quest is to silence delusional. I feel delusional’ s voice is getting weaker and growing more silent everyday while rational is growing in strength. I take comfort in locked doors and handguns for protection. I live with a heightened sense of awareness that I cannot control. In restaurants or crowded areas, I can feel the eyeballs staring at me as if laser beams are burning my forehead when I am being watched by someone. I sometimes cannot concentrate on conversations in restaurants and have to move to another booth. I am aware of all the vehicles around me when I am driving. I avoid those who drive recklessly and pay particular attention to those who tail me for an extended period of time. Rational tells me that everything is okay but delusional is always in my subconscious, whispering and lurking in the library of my mind.

Shortly after we arrived back in the United States, I said goodbye to my weapon which stayed with me throughout the deployment.  In my mind, my weapon represented my security. My weapon was something that could keep me alive to see my wife again. Throughout my time in Iraq, I stayed on guard and prepared my mind for anything that could go wrong. I knew where all the exits were and kept a keen eye on the friendly Iraqis around me. Our enemies hid among the good people of Iraq so we could not put our trust in anyone. I planned out in my head what I would do in all sorts of scenarios. Even in my bed at night I would think of what I would do if something went wrong. My weapon was always at an arm’s reach.  

The big day had arrived. We were returning home to the lives we left behind. In my mind, everything was normal and we were going to pick up the pieces where we left off. I didn’t think that I was any different than when I left and hoped that I could continue living my life the way I left it. I flew home in my uniform and met my family at the airport. Coming home was a surreal experience. I felt like it wasn’t real. The food that I desired and the people I missed were right in front of me. A welcome home BBQ was all set up for me when I arrived home. The first sign that everything was not normal was revealed that night.

BOOM!

The explosion hit with a hard punch. Nope, it was not an explosion. A football hit the side of the house. My step-brother and a friend were in the backyard throwing a football while I was enjoying some BBQ ribs in the dining room. My mother, step-father, and a few other people were at the dinner table with me. The football hit the wall and I was startled. This was something that didn't cause anyone else to flinch but my body reacted in a different way. Everyone at the table saw my reaction. I tried to play it off like it was nothing.

The deep sea is an environment that humans were not meant to survive in. To explore these environments, we invented breathing machines and submarines to travel to the far depths below the sea. When we leave the deep sea, we must go through a process of decompression. If our bodies do not go through a proper decompression process, this can lead to serious health problems and even cause death. As soldiers, we never had a decompression process when we came out of the war zone. We just turned in our gear and flew home. We had no period to adjust to the slower pace of civilian life and we had no instructions on how to decompress. We were on our own and many of us were too proud to admit to each other that something was off. Our traumatic experiences were suppressed and we all dealt with it in our own way.

I believe deep down that anyone can achieve just about anything if a self-motivating drive exists within. You can be born with all the brains and resources in the world but if you do not have a self-motivating drive, you may end up not reaching your full potential. I believe that my self-motivating drive came from the obstacles and struggles that came my way. Nothing good comes easy and without struggle. If you do not struggle in life, you do not learn to appreciate or value the things that you have. I am the sum of my hardships and struggles, for without them, I would not be the person I am today. When we are young, we learn to walk. A parent’s first instinct is to run and pick up a child when they fall. If the parent never allows the child to learn to get up, the child will never develop the muscles necessary to get up by themselves. We learn from that struggle to get back up. We gain strength from fighting the gravity that pulls us down. We develop the strength to handle anything and everything that comes our way.

First guest post

                If you were to ask your  friends what the most common injuries for veterans returning home from overseas is, you’d likely hear a gruesome tale of torn flesh and shattered bones. We have been shown these malformations and tragic sights in movies and television most of our lives. Although these injuries are the ones most covered in the media, there is a more common and equally disturbing sickness is haunting our brave men and women returning from battle, Post Traumatic Stress Disorder.

                Post traumatic stress disorder is the psychological reaction to an individual’s nerve being pushed to its breaking point. This can happen in any number of ways from abuse in childhood too having to fight for one’s own life on a kill or be killed battlefield, Which is why it is not surprising to see that so many of our fighting men and women suffer. What doesn't fail to surprise, however, is the fact that even though as much as 30% of veterans suffer from the ailment, the government and the public does very little to combat its negative effects on both the individual and society.

                The best estimates according to the Department of Housing and Urban Development states that as many as fifty thousand veterans go without shelter and basic necessities on a daily basis. This staggering number could be blamed on a lack of paying jobs available due our national recession, or on the unwise investments of their army earnings. There are literally infinite points you could argue on such a sprawling subject that touches so close to so many people. Doing so may be inconsequential but My belief however is that if our country could be more dependable in the ways of supporting and rehabilitating its most necessary peoples, our veterans, than we would see these statistics plummet.

                What truly matters is what we are going to do to say thank you and welcome home to our soldiers, who put their lives on the line to protect our freedoms to even be able to discuss such matters. How are we paying them back for their sacrifices? When it comes right down to it there are countless organizations, or lack there of, you can blame for the disheveled state of our greatest human resource, but if we are ever going to be able to move forward in the fight for curing Post traumatic stress disorder and bettering the lives of our troops we need to realize that the only ones we can count on to make a difference is ourselves.  Arguing and pointing your finger isn't going to rebuild lives, only actively building a better world will.

I still struggle.

Through out the years I have began to mediate more and more. A thought has crept up into the recesses of my mind. It has been a nagging thought and I can not find out why I have done this.

Being from the west coast, my earliest memories of summer are of water. Large lakes, pools, rivers, and the beach. The beautiful southern California beaches. I remember swimming, and trips to the river, I even remember going to the beach and getting a tan on Christmas day one year.

But it has been two years since I have been to the beach, two years since I have been in a body of water larger than a bathtub. And I don't know why. I try and analyse it, I try and figure it out. Nothing solid comes to mind. Except fragments of things that I know don't make sense.

I have ideas of being cut off from an escape, ideas of having a giant wall of water stopping 50% of the directions I can run. But 100% of the area danger can come from. Humans are land creatures, we are terrible water mammals. If I had to escape I would have to fight the current, swim while avoiding the danger, or run towards the land based threat.  

Water, the thing I used to love about summer has been taken. I think that this is why I can't go near water, but I can't admit it. I can't admit that even after years of being away from my event, I am still struggling with avoidance, and haven't realized it yet.

I remember the day I jumped.

I remember the first time the noises caused me to jump. I was living in a tiny two bedroom house, I was married, I had a son on the way. My wife at the time, was in the kitchen pregnant waddling about, making breakfast. I was looking for a job. I had spent the night before crying in her arms, after a couple hours of fighting my nightmares. Sleep was still hanging on my breath, and exhaustion gripping at my eyes.

I was scrolling through site after site, it was 2008, if you remember that year it wasn't a good one for anyone. Funds were running low, rent was due soon, and we had the little one on the way. Stress was building up.

The wife was dancing and spinning in the kitchen, happy as could be. I peeked in the kitchen and saw that breakfast was almost ready. Her hips swung and she bumped the utensils drawer closed. It slammed a little harder then she intended, and the ringing of silverware pinged through the house.

Like a tidal wave, I was back there. I felt the heat of Iraq swim up my feet and hit me in the face like a truck. I felt my nails bend as I grabbed on to the computer desk. My teeth grind in my skull, echoing from far off. Hands ached, muscles twitched. Tears welled up.

My breathing stops. My hearing gives out. My vision is blurred. My heart is beating, I can feel it everywhere. My nightmares have come true. I never came home, I am still there.

"Breakfast is ready baby"

I hear, but I can not react. I am drowning in molasses.

"Baby?"

I am trying to come back. I want it to be real. I want everything back, but I am stuck there.

"Baby, can you hear me?"

"Yeah."

"Are you ok?"

The fog is drifting away. Slowly I am coming back to where I belong.

"Yea I'm ok, I'll be there in a second."

I decided then and there that I would hide it all. Hide the weakness, hide the terror. Hide everything I had just been through.




Do not hide the symptoms, you will lose more than you know. You will lose yourself to fear, and doubt, and everything you bottle up inside. Seek help, find someone, anyone to talk to. Find someone to help you fight the demons.  

Method #1 for dealing with PTSD

So this first technique is so simple it can be done anywhere, anytime, and will reduce stress. Not to mention if made a part of your PTSD calm down routine, it can help speed up the process. 

Practicing deep breathing meditation

Try to focus on deep breathing, which means to breathe deeply from the abdomen, getting as much air as possible in your lungs. When you take deep breaths from the abdomen, rather than shallow breaths from your upper chest, you inhale more oxygen. The more oxygen you get, the less tense, short of breath, and anxious you feel. 

So first thing to do is to sit with your back straight. This can be done in a chair, or on the ground. Put one hand on your chest and the other on your stomach.

Next breathe in through your nose. The hand on your stomach should rise. The hand on your chest should move very little. try not to force this, your first instinct may be to press down on your chest to make that happen, don't. Tense muscles use oxygen, and create stress.

Exhale through your mouth, pushing out as much air as you can while tightening your abdominal muscles. The hand on your stomach should move in as you exhale, but your other hand should move very little. You should focus on breathing with your abdominal muscles, not your diaphragm. 

Continue to breathe in through your nose and out through your mouth. Try to inhale enough so that your lower abdomen rises and falls. Count slowly as you exhale. In 1, out 2, in 3, out 4 etc. You want to create a rhythm in your mind, and your body so you can relax. 

If you find it too hard breathing from your abdomen while sitting up, try lying on the floor. Put a small object on your stomach, like a book, and try to breathe so that the book rises and falls with your breath.

As a side note, I will continue to post new techniques as I try them out. This one I have been doing for years, modified a bit though.

What happened to the things I used to Love.

Avoidance is a major symptom of PTSD, there are also several ways of dealing with this symptom.

So I am going to try and make this simple, as simple as I can.

Avoidance is like the fear we get when we first fall off our bikes as children. The only way to deal with it is to get back on and try again. As children, this is an easy task. You have endless hope, and boundless wonder. But as an adult, all of that has been beaten out of you, adults (yes you and I) can tend to be cynical.

After our event we are similar to when we were kids, and fell off our bikes. We are afraid to fall, so we avoid the things we love. We no longer find the joy in them that we once did. Whether it is painting, reading, or being around others. These are all things that can actually help us get over a lot of our symptoms of PTSD.

Doing the things you once loved or found enjoyment in, over and over again can make you feel better. Even if you, at first do not enjoy them as you once did. Repeating the motions of the activities can start the healing process, and help you rediscover the love you once had.

As you start to find enjoyment from the things you 'lost' you will begin to have a brighter out look on life. Avoidance is a double edged sword. It makes us keep life at bay, by doing that we lose interest in life. When we lose interest we avoid those things. But one thing leads to another, and another, and before you know it, you have built up walls around you that are destroying your life, not protecting it. But when you force yourself to find that joy, and love for the activities you once loved, those walls come down and we find a reason to live life again.  

Living with fear

We all have fears, every one alive. The difference with those with PTSD is we live in fear. Everyday we battle the fears our minds hold on to. They form our lives, the change us, destroy the person we could have been.

But they do not destroy us. They do not kill us. They provide us with a choice.

A simple choice: Live in fear, or live with fear.

It is a choice that is so simple we often miss the difference between the two.

One is to be consumed by fear, where it controls our lives. It alters our very minds, and distorts our view of the world around us. We fear the very world we inhabit, the air we breathe, the water we drink. We fear the particles in the water drink to the point where we lose all sense of logic. Parts per trillions of radioactive particles, becomes our water has nuclear waste in our drinking water. We fear  the outside world has dangers around every corner. The sun brings with it a darkness we can not shake.

But living with fear, is to acknowledge our fears, to grow with them. To use them, to our betterment. The fears become our guiding force, our motivation. They become a template for us to plan our lives, and our new goals against. When we walk with our fears we see our weaknesses and we work on them to better ourselves. We strive to grow and gain strength where we once had weakness.

Make it a point in life to walk with, and live with your fears. Do not live in fear, do not let the fear control you. You are not defined by your event, you event is over, now it is time to define your event. Now is the time to claim your life, and claim your fears.