One Quiet Victory At A Time
August is the one month of the year without a specific ‘federal’ holiday. Yet it is filled with transitions. School begins again, summer vacations wind down, and fall is slowly hinting its colors.
While many of us adjust without much thought to these changes, and feel like ordinary transitions, seasons of change aren’t always so simple for someone living with PTSD. Instead they can stir deep anxiety and fears they can’t describe.
STRUGGLING WITH CHANGE
Just because others can’t see the struggle, doesn’t make it any less real. I recall days when my Charles struggled with change. I can’t explain the particulars, but it makes me wonder if those days in the what he called being in ‘the bush’ taught his mind that every change could mean danger. — When walking through dense underbrush with rifle poised to shoot, eyes darting in every direction, wondering if the ‘enemy’ would change his life forever—or even take his ‘forever’ from him.
In the years that followed the Vietnam War, struggle was almost an everyday event. Early on since PTSD wasn’t even a ‘thing’ yet, there were daily battles of quick, or even instant personality changes, edged with an anger we neither could identify. Then it would pass and he would relax again.
UNSETTLING EVENTS
Sometimes the ‘event’ would last several days as if he couldn’t get back from ‘where ever’ it was he’d hidden. Sometimes even when we know our hearts are safe, the body still reacts as though danger is near.
This would intensify if Charles anticipated that I was in danger. His reaction to even the suggestion that I might go somewhere alone—- or worse, at night, would fill him with such dread and anxiety. I could hardly breathe, because I didn’t understand. I’m not sure he did!
But the anxiety would get so great, that if I did go, even only a few miles away, if I didn’t return by a specific time, he was angry with worry. It was kind of like when a child innocently takes a walk and mom and dad can’t find him. They are frantic with worry and when they finally find their child, they want to hug them tightly…. and scold them at the same time.
The wounds many soldiers carried home from Vietnam were unimaginable. What compounded the physical wounds, and the emotional scars during the war, was the wounds they received when they came home.
UNEXPECTED HOSTILITY
So many people rejected the war and the rhetoric that came from that was as slicing to their mentality as the war itself. Many soldiers, and Charles was one, who could not understand the hatred his fellow Americans bestowed on them as returning, often wounded men.
These hostile acts towards the fighting men who came back, was like throwing gas onto already open wounds. It made them question their worth, their commitment to doing what was right, their dedication to a country they believed in, and just their humanity with what they’d already been through.
JUST DAILY LIFE
Emotional distress was a daily part of our lives….forever. Even after Charles was diagnosed with PTSD more than 40 years after his service in Vietnam, medication and therapy, didn’t erase the wounds. They simply helped us to manage them, so every day wasn’t a continual nightmare.
HEALING FINALLY COMES
Healing is often found in small, quiet victories.
Sitting outside with a cup of coffee without fear, a peaceful walk through the neighborhood not wondering if the enemy would fire from an open door, rooftop or window, or even a good night’s sleep, became something worth celebrating.
Nighttime once brought nightmares filled with thrashing, fear and memories in ways I don’t like to recall. But over time, those nights became fewer. The scars never completely disappeared, but with healing, came one quiet victory at a time. And sometimes, those tiny moments are the ones worth celebrating most!