Remembrance Day

As most military families know too well, remembering the fallen is not reserved for a single day of the year.  Many of us have death anniversaries throughout the year, the days where our friends and loved ones were killed.  Remembrance Day is the day that they are all on the brain, that we are reminded why they died.  I find that the weeks before Remembrance Day are harder than any other time of year, at least they are for my family. 

My husband had some friends over for dinner this past weekend and they ended up staying over and having breakfast with us as well.  It reminded me of times when that was a weekly occurrence, before our country went overseas to participate in combat missions, back in the easy days.  It made me think of all the friends that are no longer able to come and visit our home.  I thought of times that our friend Dave slept on the couch after a night out, his quiet demeanor altered by alcohol into a loud, borderline obnoxious comedian.  I smile at the memories that have been left behind and often wish that he could have lived to have a wife and a family.

The days and weeks leading up to November 11th are always a little tougher, fuses are shorter and those eggshells are a little more fragile.  We adjust the best that we can and move forward, we must live each day to the fullest, we are still here, and from the fallen that were in my life, that's what they would have wanted for us to do.  Bagpipes are a touchy spot as they always bring tears to my eyes and I can't get through a Remembrance Day service without tears.  I prefer the outdoor ones because sunglasses can cover a whole lot of watery eyes.  I know that it could have easily been my husband that didn't come home but for some stroke of luck or God's grace, it wasn't his time.  I am a lucky one.

"Someday" doesn't exist in this house, if we can do it today, we will.  No one knows what comes tomorrow and we live for the now.  Now, I can go to the park with my whole family, I can't say that about tomorrow.  But every day when I wake up, I know that I have the safe surroundings for my children to grow because of the men and women who gave their lives to give it to me.  For that, they deserve every ounce of respect I can offer.

I recently saw a story on a Facebook status that reminded me that there are still people who respect why we take the time on Remembrance Day.

Back in September, on the first day of school, Martha Cothren, a social studies school teacher at Bobcaygeon (north of Peterborough, Ontario) public school, did something not to be forgotten. On the first day of school, with the permission of the school superintendent, the principal and the building supervisor, she removed all of the desks from her classroom.

When the first period kids entered the room they discovered that there were no desks. 'Ms..Cothren, where're our desks?'  She replied, 'You can't have a desk until you tell me how you earn the right to sit at a desk.  They thought, 'Well, maybe it's our grades.' 'No,' she said.  'Maybe it's our behavior.'
She told them, 'No, it's not even your behavior.'

And so, they came and went, the first period, second period, third period. Still, no desks in the classroom.

By early afternoon television news crews had started gathering in Ms.Cothren's classroom to report about this crazy teacher who had taken all the desks out of her room. The final period of the day came and as the puzzled students found seats on the floor of the desk-less classroom, Martha Cothren said, 'throughout the day no one has been able to tell me just what he/she has done to earn the right to sit at the desks that are ordinarily found in this classroom.  Now I am going to tell you.' At this point, Martha Cothren went over to the door of her classroom and opened it.  Twenty-seven (27) War Veterans, all in uniforms, walked into that classroom, each one carrying a school desk.

The Vets began placing the school desks in rows, and then they would walk over and stand alongside the wall. By the time the last soldier had set the final desk in place those kids started understand, perhaps for the first time in their lives, just how the right to sit at those desks had been earned.

Martha said, 'You didn't earn the right to sit at these desks. These heroes did it for you. They placed the desks here for you. Now, it's up to you to sit in them. It is your responsibility to learn, to be good students, to be good citizens. They paid the price so that you could have the freedom to get an education. Don't ever forget it.

My family has been permanently altered by the combat mission in Afghanistan and I count myself VERY lucky.  I still have my soul mate.  PTSD is an awful thing.  It's difficult and unpredictable.  It causes problems on a regular basis.  It changes my life from one moment to the next.  And I am still lucky.  I have had the pleasure and honour of knowing some of the men and women who were killed since 2006.  I had the blessing of my grandfathers influencing my life, both WW2 veterans. 

 

Though sometimes it gets away from me and I complain, I am lucky...

Together...

I started writing this blog as a way to get my feelings out, as my way of saying that a soldier having PTSD is not the end of the list of people it affects. The entire family of the soldier is affected and it isn't easy for any of the people involved. Some days I want to scream at people who look at my family weird when my husband is getting agitated at nothing. They look at me with pity and I hate it! They don't understand that my husband isn't just being a jerk, he's actually trying really hard not to take it out on me, it's something that he fights to control on a minute to minute basis. My husband is a soldier, at work and at home. He fights not only for his country but also to control the beast inside of him. And I am there doing my best to support him through it, it's not easy but he is very worth it!

My wish is that the people of the world would understand and not judge him, or me, for living our lives in the best way that we know how. Yes, we struggle some days but he is worth each and every second. I will go through the tough moments so that I can have the tender ones... My request is that anyone who reads this will try not to judge someone else's situation based on a single moment as you have no idea what might be going on. I have no doubt that my husband loves me more with every breath he takes, the same way I love him. And for that reason, we will continue to fight our way through this illness the best way we know how, together!

Thanks...

With thanksgiving looming I find myself looking to the past as well as the future. I know that this life is not an easy one but I am truely thankful that I have been able to meet and call some of this country's heroes my friends. I am thankful for my husband, even on his bad days, because as much as he drives me crazy I love him with all of my heart.

I wouldn't be able to get through this life without the support of my friends, they are always there when I need an ear and I hope that they can say the same thing about me. They have become my family, the family that I have created for myself and my children. My children are very lucky to have a bunch of aunts and uncles that will always be there, no matter what mistakes they make. They are just children but they already have a legacy, they understand war in ways that no child should ever have to understand. They have stood quietly at funerals and memorials for people they knew, young people that died far before their time, those same people that fought for all the children of several countries to live in a place of peace.

I have seen people protesting the Afghanistan commitment, people that haven't done their research to know the good that has been done. Tyrants cannot be allowed to run things and if that means that I have to deal with my husband having PTSD, it's the least I can do. I am thankful to be married to a man that believes in trying to make the world a better place, he will do what he does, so that my children don't have to.

"army mode"

I find that when my husband is getting ready to go away for a while he spends his last day at home very hesitant to get involved with the workings of the house and tends to be a bit of a jerk to everyone.  I call this "army mode".  From what I understand, it's his subconscious way of making the act of leaving a little easier on him.  I'll admit, it drives me insane!!!  My husband is generally very involved with things in the house and very attentive to the members of our family.  It's almost like he wants us not to want him here so he doesn't have to feel bad about leaving.  I always try to get the issues resolved before he walks out the door as I tend to over analyze things if I am left too long to rethink them.  I will admit that I tend to blow things a little out of proportion if I can't deal with them immediately, it's something that I have been trying my entire life to fix.  I haven't yet managed to make that happen!

This whole "army mode" thing is something I've struggled with for a long time.  I try my best to always leave things on a good note with everything I do, that's who I am.  I'm sure I drive my husband insane with my need to discuss things until I feel better, especially the night before he goes away.  I just want it to be a happy goodbye, obviously I will miss him like crazy but I want that last smile to be one that will stick in my brain until I get to see him again.  I never know when the next time I will speak to him will be, I don't want negative feelings to get in the middle of our great relationship.

I can honestly say that no amount of "army mode" or beast visits will make me love him any less, send me a little closer to boarding the crazy train perhaps, but never make me love him less.

Why?

I have always known that there were many of us going through the same thing behind closed doors at the same time.  I guess I didn't realize how many of us feel the same way, completely alone.  I have recently been thanked quite a bit for writing my blog, it has given some people a small amount of relief knowing that they are not alone in this.  I wish that there were a more personal way than being on the other end of a computer somewhere out there for us all to reassured.  The methods they have come up with so far aren't working as no one I have spoken to feels comfortable going outside their little box for fear of rumours and fallout with partner's careers.  This is bull$*%#!  Sorry for the direct language but there isn't really any other descriptive work that quite covers it.

In this community we seem to band together for a deployment and there's a ton of moral support from other spouses and then they come home and we're all on our own.  I remember feeling like I had crawled into a hole and became invisible.  No one came to my door anymore and the coffee dates stopped.  Why do we do this to each other?  Why is this community more apt to discuss others behind their backs than checking to see if the other is ok.  I will admit to having been guilty of this in the past, and then I felt the other side of that sword, take it from me, it's not nice.  I have tried ever since to stay out of those circles and have found myself very isolated because of it. 

So here's my question, and I would love feedback... 

If serving with the military creates a brotherhood seldom found elsewhere, why isn't there a sisterhood with their partners?

The little things...

Anyone in a relationship knows that there are things that will cause stress on a good day.  I find that sometimes those little things pile up and almost seem to be a lead weight on your good mood.  I have been so busy lately trying to sort out how to get through all of these little issues that I haven't had any time to sit down and write this blog.  I've honestly missed it!  I have always prided myself on making the best of crappy situations and these last 2 weeks I have noticed that my positive outlook took a nosedive. 

I had a big birthday and it threw me for a loop.  I get so wrapped up in the day to day that my birthday creeps up on me and knocks me off track.  This year it was a little worse than normal being that I started a new decade.  I have nothing to complain about, it just means that I'm not as young as I was.  I'm coming to grips with it.

We have also had visitors to our new home that seemed to have high expectations for the way we are "supposed" to be doing things.  I wish that I could scream from the rooftop that my husband has PTSD and sometimes he has bad days, but that is no reflection on who he is.  He isn't being grumpy on purpose.  Sometimes things just bother him more than they would bother other people and answering for those mood swings only makes it worse.  This disorder is difficult and my husband does his best to work through things without snapping but sometimes that doesn't work out.  This is something that we deal with every single day as a family, and it simply is what it is.

I find that sometimes having guests reminds him too much of being overseas and being watched every moment of every day just in case he's doing something that he shouldn't, or not doing something that he should be.  I know it seems silly to compare a house guest to an overseas deployment but it seems that in some ways, one is reminiscent of the other.  It takes over a week for him to come back down to his normal level of calm after a visit.  Now don't get me wrong, it's not that he doesn't want any visitors, he does, it just takes him outside of his full comfort zone.  When someone comes to visit it's a bit of an awakening for them to see how we live our lives, and sometimes that awakening is a rude one. 

Our family isn't perfect, never has been, never will be, but we don't expect it to be.  We live our lives with a daily goal of keeping a smile in our hearts.  We generally succeed more than we fail and that in itself is enough.

Miscommunication

I'm sure that in families without PTSD interference, a simple miscommunication blows over very fast and can be worked out without drama. I find that it isn't quite that simple for us.

Lately it seems that messages aren't getting through for some reason, and that is driving me crazy. I have been told several times that I didn't say something to my husband when I remember doing so, and vice versa.  This hasn't really happened to us before, this one's new!  Most of it is very simple stuff too.  Our toddler learned to climb from the couch onto his high chair and sit down in it.  He did this a few days ago for the first time and I remember telling my husband about it.  Well he did it in front of my husband for the first time this morning and when he came to tell me and I reminded him that it wasn't the first time, I was told that I had not informed him so it was surprising for him.  This came as he was walking away from me.  I hate it when he walks away from me like that.  I fully understand that you're frustrated but walking away in that kind of manner just makes things a million times worse.  And because I know he reads my blogs, I'll admit that sometimes I'm guilty of it too. 

Apparently today was an "I want to shut my brain off" kind of day for him and he didn't communicate that to me so I tried to deal with this issue and it didn't go over well at all.  I interrupted his video game and that was like the end of the world.  I'm fully aware that this sounds ridiculous.  I'll admit that I have times where I try to escape from reality with a book or a movie and I don't like to be interrupted either but I try not to get upset about it.  Most of our disagreements stem from some insignificant miscommunication and turn into these huge ordeals instead of being discussed immediately, we're working on this issue but it's definitely not solved yet.

I adore my husband so I will work through these things with him but it sure would make life easier if we could have our miscommunications dealt with quickly and painlessly!

Friends

With everything that I go through with my husband and his PTSD I can't stop trying to help people through their struggles.  I cannot turn away when someone needs help through something.  It is a large part of who I am and admittedly, it took a long time for my husband to understand it.

I have friends who were in the military who didn't realize that they had a problem until it was too late so they are now starting over.  They now know what the underlying reason was but that doesn't help with processing the loss of a marriage.  It sucks no matter the reasoning or how amicable a split was.  My heart goes out to them and I do what I can to be there for them to talk to.  When I split with my ex, I fully expected that his buddies from the military would no longer be my friends.  I thought that the brotherhood would take over and I would be on the outside.  This wasn't the case at all!  There were so many of his military friends that came to my side when I needed them and I will be forever grateful.  I believe in paying things forward and so I will be there for them when they need me, that is what a friend is.  I know that these days, friends tend to be very fickle and don't see the problem with that.  I have a few of these but can say that the majority of the people I call friends will be there for me like I am there for them.  If that means a midnight phone call, so be it.  The time of day never matters to me, if someone needs to talk through something, I will be there.

My husband and I try to teach our children that a true friend will always be there and not to pour their heart into every person they meet.  I'm sure that seems contradictory but we are trying to shield them from the heartache of realizing that someone you thought was your friend, really isn't.  As I see it, there are two types of friends, those who will throw you under the bus and those who will pull you out from under that bus.  I make the conscious decision to keep those around me to the ones who would pull me out.  That is what I want for my children. and that is what I try to be for them.

So in reading all of this, what kind of friend are you to the people in your life?

Why I'm one of the lucky few...

I count myself very lucky that my husband has admitted that he has a problem to handle.  It took a while for him to really take notice and admit that there was an issue, but he did, and it was in time to save our family.  This isn't always the case.  In fact it's probably only about half of the soldiers who admit that there's an issue.  When someone enlists, they are taught to be hard individuals, taught to deal with any problem alone.  PTSD is not one of those things that can be handled alone. 

There was a time in our relationship where I questioned whether or not to stay while he was pushing me further and further away.  I chose to fight for my family and in my case, it paid off.  I have seen many other families go the other way.  Far too often I hear stories of people blowing up their entire lives and laying blame on their spouses for their problems.  Their anger gets directed at an innocent person and sometimes it's too much to take.  It happened to me in my first marriage.  I could never do anything right and in the end, he chose to be with someone who didn't know who he was before he went overseas.  This way, he could move forward without admitting that he was the issue.  It happens all the time in military families all over the world.

The military used to be a great big family.  I've been told many times that there is no friendship like it.  These people are friends for life and can always be counted on in times of trouble.  It's what military families have always done, as there's an unspoken understanding unlike any other.  With the high rate of PTSD, this community has been affected and just isn't the same as it used to be.  These guys wreak havoc on their personal lives and stop talking to their friends.  What happens when someone with mental issues is completely isolated?  It shouldn't happen.  Friendships die off and soldiers find themselves very alone.  If you ask my opinion, that's why the suicide instances are becoming more frequent. 

My husband was able to find help before it was too late for our family.  He has admitted that if it weren't for the family, he would have found himself at rock bottom and could very well not be alive right now.  Not due to suicide but due to poor choices like drinking and driving.  So I count myself as one of the lucky few who can go through this and come out the other side of the red tape with a close family unit.  I wish that were the case for everyone!

Reasons?

I don't know everything that happened to my husband in Afghanistan, I doubt I even know half of it, but that doesn't matter.  I will never ask him.  Any information that he wants to volunteer will be welcomed but other than that, I leave it alone.  I know that most people ask him if he's killed someone, does it matter?  If he did, then it wouldn't have been the man who sleeps beside me every night, it would have been the infantry soldier.  We had a long conversation last night about just that.

When he was upset one day, probably a year ago, I told him what my grandfather had said to me about his military service.  He was a WWII vet and as with most WWII vets, he didn't discuss it.  I had asked him about it once and I will never forget what he said to me.  He told me that a man in a war is not the same man at home.  He told me that the man I saw before me was not the same man who participated in military actions against Hitler's army.  He also told me that the things a soldier does in times of war are things that they would never even think of doing at home.  This is the training, it becomes auto-pilot.  The man in front of me was the man I loved and adored, my grandfather, and he was such a loving, caring teddy bear of a man that I couldn't imagine him hurting another human being, but I know that to be standing in front of me, he had to.

My husband is very much like my grandfather was and if I could have any wish come true, they would have had a chance to meet before he passed away.  I deal with PTSD every day and I don't know what caused it, nor does it matter.  We were out running errands a little while ago and some idiot cut into our lane, narrowly missing us, to go around another car, my husband shrugged it off.  We saw the same car 5 minutes later and the guy swerved into the oncoming traffic lane that we were in, just to prove a point.  We pulled into our destination, the dreaded grocery store, and I could tell that my husband was seeing red.  He was waiting.  Waiting to see if this guy was going to come into the parking lot for words (thank God, he didn't!).  We sat there for a few minutes, neither saying a word.  I asked him if he just wanted to try again tomorrow for the groceries, he agreed that it was a better idea to go home as he knew that any small thing would send him over the edge.  That is never good!

We came home, and will try again tomorrow.  Sometimes, this is what we have to do to make things a little easier to handle.  Compromise is a very important thing in a family like ours. 

PTSD or just plain stubborn?

Maybe I'm old school in my thinking that when someone leaves the home or intends to leave they should communicate with their partner, especially when there are kids to care for. My husband seems to think that by doing this, he is asking permission, I disagree.

Take for example this morning. My husband came to tell me that he was going to look at tires. I was under the impression that we were taking care of this when we were doing errands later in the day. Apparently I shouldn't have asked about it because we went from 0 to 100 in 2 seconds. Now to clarify, I did not tell him that I didn't want him to go, to be honest it was fine. I was merely seeking comprehension of a plan change.  Before I knew it, he was in a huff walking away from me.

I find myself wondering if it would be this way if he didn't have PTSD.  Would it be easier to have a conversation with him about something so mundane if he didn't get upset so fast?  So now we're at a stalemate, he is hiding in the basement with his video games while I stew upstairs.  I did try to talk to him again after a cooling off period but he's stubborn and didn't want to ease up and hear my side.  I realize that I am his wife, not his parent, so why does he assume that he's asking permission and not merely communicating his intentions?  Perhaps I need to remind him?

I always ensure that my plan is not going to inconvenience his, I think that it is just a courtesy owed to a partner.  Sometimes the timing of my plan doesn't work, sometimes it does.  This is just something I do and expect the same in return. 

I'll admit, I'm not looking forward to the rest of the day now as this will be held against me and will make for very short fuses.

Good Days

I'm sure that anyone reading this blog who doesn't live with someone suffering through PTSD is thinking that it is always negative but it's not. We have good days and bad days. Sometimes that beast makes frequent visits and sometimes it doesn't. The good days always make the bad ones worth it.  The days where I get to have my fun, happy husband make the bad stuff disappear from my view.

Yesterday was one of those days that make me love my husband even more.  He was happy and smiling for the whole day and we got to have a great day with the family.  We were invited to a friend's family event and we had a great time.  My husband talked to people and was the life of the party.  He didn't hide in a corner and stew like he does sometimes.  The day even included 4 hours in the car with 3 kids in the back and no one yelled.  It was awesome!

I married my husband when he had already been diagnosed with the disorder.  I married him because I can't imagine my life without him, he is my best friend and my soul mate.  And yes, I know that the soul mate comment is cheesy but I'm ok with that as I believe it to be true.  When the beast isn't here, we laugh all the time and have a great life.   One good day can erase a month of bad ones for me.  He really is two different people, the beast is one, my joker husband, the other.

I would take a lifetime of the beast for a day with my husband if I had to...  Just don't expect me to admit that when the beast is making an extended visit!

Little Moments Missed

Many people with PTSD have VERY short fuses.  It doesn't take much to upset them and they are very quick to anger.  I have mentioned before that we have 3 beautiful children and they are also affected by PTSD being in the house.  They too have learned to tiptoe around when the beast is visiting.  I can't even begin to tell you how many times they have been surprised by the response to a question they have asked their dad if he's in a bad mood.  Something simple can turn into a large problem.

Yesterday, the beast made an extended visit and it made for a very tough day.  We're not sure why he came so abruptly or why he stayed so long.  We took our older son fishing in the river first thing in the morning.  He is just learning so he requires a lot of help.  He refused to bait his own hook, as he said that worms are slimy, and the beast got aggravated.  His response to the beast lately has been to pout and hide, this is very effective at frustrating the beast.  So my son went to sit in the car for a few minutes.  Once I had reeled my line in, I went to try another tactic to the problem.  I gave him a piece of worm that had fallen off my hook, a very small piece that wasn't going to fight with him.  He gave in and put the piece on his hook.  The smile and pride that crossed his face erased the pout and upset immediately.  This was a very proud moment for our son and the beast made my husband miss it.  He baited his own hook for the rest of the time we were fishing without complaint.  The beast didn't allow my husband to be proud and excited for him, it made him stand off to the side and grunt.

It makes me sad to know that my husband has missed any of these little things and will continue to miss them.  He was there but not able to see past the frustration to enjoy the moment.  This is something that this disorder has taken from him.  Anyone with children knows that they grow up far too quickly and once they do, these moments are gone. I think that's why sometimes I try too hard with them, try to make up for the beast coming.  I have been told that I'm a push over with them but I suppose that's my way of finding a balance in the midst of this. 

I wish that I could make the beast disappear forever but I can't.  I wish that I could make PTSD stop interfering with our children's memories, but I can't.  We make the best of the cards we are dealt, and I am making the best of mine.

I have learned to wait until my husband is very calm and I take that moment to sit down with him and ask him what's bothering him.  Sometimes he knows, others he doesn't.  Heck, sometimes he doesn't even know that he's in a bad mood!  This seems to be the most effective way of making the beast go away, and yes it has backfired many times, but I keep trying just as he does to get better.

Without Notice, Here Comes The Beast!!

As those of you living with someone with PTSD know all too well, it's not easy!  You never know when that beast is going to appear over the smallest thing, could be a toy left out or an offhand comment, you just never know.  I find that my husband doesn't even notice when he starts being short and downright mean.  It usually comes on fast and without any warning. 

Take a quick run to the grocery store for instance, if you don't know exactly what you need and the way to get your trip to the store accomplished in the shortest amount of time possible, you could be in for a very frustrating experience. You could be walking to the produce section, remember that you forgot to grab eggs and suddenly you're the dumbest person alive.  I know from experience that he doesn't mean to treat me that way, and he tries to control it but sometimes it slips and it's his way or the highway.  So I stop talking and that makes it worse.  Once the beast comes out, it takes a long time for it to go away again.  And once he's loose, he just gets more and more ferocious, making the people around feel smaller and smaller. 

An example of a small thing that happened recently might put this into perspective for someone who hasn't experienced it.  We were at the lake the last few days and one night we all decided to make a fire.  My friend put 2 logs on when it first started.  Apparently it was the wrong time as the fire just refused to get going.  Smaller logs were added but it still refused to catch.  My husband made a comment to my friend that she was wrong to put the larger logs on when she did because they were at the bottom.  Like most logical people, she tried to move them.  This pretty much extinguished all the flame and left the coals, oops.  My husband got very frustrated and pretty much chastised her for touching it.  She admitted to him that she wasn't very good with fires but that just wasn't good enough.  He was already frustrated so he abruptly walked away and went to bed.  Luckily for me, she has experience with people with PTSD so I didn't have to explain what had happened.  I hate trying to explain it to people that don't understand, I think that's the worst part!  I have seen people look at us like we have 2 heads, no wonder many sufferers hide most of the time.

I know that my husband hates looking like the biggest jerk in the world, and he often does, when the beast shows up.  I can't even begin to count how many times we have had to quickly leave somewhere when a spike comes on.  He leaves almost immediately while I am left to say goodbye and apologize for him.  I don't even want to know what happens after we're gone, I'm sure there have been many things said over the years.  The car rides are either silent or a barrage of raised voice commentary on anything and everything.  It usually takes about an hour for that beast to go, longer if you get in it's way.

History as I know it... The short version!

As I sat quietly at the lake I realized that if I am going to reach the goal I set out for myself, I would have to explain some of my past.  Aside from the PTSD my husband has, my life is pretty ideal.  The truth is that I was married before, he was also a soldier, and it ended badly.

My ex spent 18 months in denial about his PTSD.  I tried to tell him that he needed some help and he refused to see what I saw.  I was labelled a "nag" and ignored.  He also tuned out his friends and family who said the same thing.  I continued to support him through the highs and lows.  I got through my single parenting while he was in the other room.  I moved 3284kms across the country, away from all my friends, family and support systems, to support him in his trade transfer out of the infantry.  I was at home with 2 kids, all alone in a new place, while he was confined to barracks for his course.  He was able to come home after 6 weeks.  I remember being in the kitchen making pancakes, his request, the morning after he arrived home when my world flipped upside down.  He told me that he didn't love me and that he didn't think that he ever had.

I remember standing there in utter disbelief while holding a spatula in my hand.  My jaw must have slammed to the floor.  He was stone cold like he had commented on the weather.  Somehow I managed to ask him to explain himself and he did, he remained cold as he told me that he felt nothing for me.  It was the start of the thanksgiving weekend.

I spent the next 2 months trying to save my family, he moved out to an apartment on his own almost immediately.  The big change was that he admitted to needing help, that was what gave me hope.  I sought out my own therapy and went to get help with how to deal with the whole situation.  Two whole months I struggled with my marriage and two kids on my own.  He wasn't spending more than an hour or two a week with the kids.

Christmas came and we were all going home.  My ex left early with my son while I waited until my daughter's school let out.  An army buddy of my ex's came over for a visit the night before I left and he gave me the missing piece of the puzzle I was living in.  There was someone else, and there had been since June.  He moved the kids and I half way across the country, away from everything we knew, all while having an affair!  I was in a daze until I set eyes on him when I landed in my home town the next day.  I remember looking him in the eye and saying "I know!"  He looked confused, I simply repeated myself and added the word 'everything' at the end.  Then he knew what I was talking about and I watched as all the color drained from his face as he muttered something about not having to take this and turned to leave.  He had agreed to take me to my mom's house so I advised him that he would be driving to my mother's, we would be dropping the kids with her and we would be having a private conversation.  We did just that and he eventually admitted to everything.

Something in my heart told me that I needed to try to save my family despite it all.  I spent another six weeks fighting for my family.  My grandmother passed away in January, followed close behind by my grandfather.  He wasn't there for me when I needed him.  A friend from high school and I had a conversation on Facebook late one night, he told me to move home and start over because I was too good a person to be treated like that.  24 hours later I found out that he died in his sleep, he was 26.  That was the smack in the face that I needed.  My ex told me that his mistress was flying there for Valentines Day.  As calmly as possible, not an easy feat in that situation, I advised him that if she stepped foot in the province that I would be in a lawyer's office filing separation papers and moving the children and I home.  She arrived and I followed through.  My marriage was over.  The one thing that gave me comfort was knowing that I did every single thing I could to save it, I couldn't save a partnership without a partner.

Note:  I included the basic information in this post.  To explain everything that happened in that marriage would take a very long time.  I had chairs thrown at me (thankfully, he missed), holes punched in walls beside my head and have been blamed for everything that you can possibly imagine.  My children were affected and forever changed.  It was not a pleasant experience.

Off To The Lake

We have decided to run away to the lake for few days with the kids. No Internet or telephones!

So this will be my last post for a couple days. I will write while I am away and will probably have a few things to post on my return.

Cross your fingers for me that "the beast" is afraid of the water, we could really use a break!!

And thanks for reading :)

Community

When we lived in a major city with a small military presence, I expected that the sense of community would be varied at best. Having come from a small city with a large base, I knew that it would be different. People didn't really talk to each other and kept to themselves. That I understood. When we moved back to that same small city with a large base I expected to find the close knit military community that had been there 5 years earlier. What we found was a community destroyed...

On her first day at her new school, my daughter found that there were several kids in her class cutting themselves, and they were really proud of it. That's messed up!!! I found myself wanting to go to the school and start asking why no one was doing anything about this problem. At the request from my daughter, I refrained. The question I would love to have answered is this, if my 12 year old was told of this on her first day, why is no one doing anything to help these kids? When over half of a class of pre-teens is cutting themselves, there's a problem! Where are the parents, teachers and counselors? If it were my daughter, you can be darn sure I would be working with her to stop it. It made me wonder, if there are that many struggling families in one place, wouldn't you think that something needs to happen to help them?!? This is a problem that effects the entire family, not just the military member.

Why can people all over the country and the world band together to offer help for diseases such as cancer or MS, and yet here's this disorder affecting so many people in our own community and everyone turns a blind eye.

A PTSD diagnosis doesn't mean you're weak. It doesn't mean you've failed. It means that you need some help to deal with things that humans just aren't equipped to deal with on their own. So what's the harm in people knowing that you accepted the fact that you needed help and went to get it? Someone who lost a limb needs help to heal, what makes a mental disorder any different?

I remember my husband getting a call from a family member who had seen a film on tv called War in the Mind, a documentary following Canadian soldiers and their families and their struggles with PTSD, she very quietly asked him if that's how life was for him... His answer was very simple, he said, "Yes." That one film changed how his family saw him. While they will never fully understand, just as I won't, the desire to be tolerant and understanding of the mood swings he struggles so hard to control is now there. It made a difference to have a family who understood. This is where the sense of community comes in. If there are so many people suffering alone through this disorder, why aren't they leaning on each other? Why hasn't the effort been made to find a safe place for them to talk about it?This isn't a problem that will just go away by sweeping it under the rug, it grows each and every day.

If you haven't seen the film, you can watch it at the link below.
War In the Mind

The Beast?

I was reading a US military spouse's blog today and found it funny (in a very off kilter kind of way) that she referred to her husband's PTSD as "The Beast".  It's actually fairly accurate!  If any of you have dealt with someone with PTSD (diagnosed or undiagnosed) and you look at an episode and how it plays out, "the beast" makes a great deal of sense.

Take my sarcastic, joke-cracking husband for example.  When he isn't mid PTSD episode, he's the life of the party, constantly cracking jokes at everyone's expense and behaving like a large child.  He dances in public and acts like an idiot on a regular basis, he sure is memorable!  Then take him when he has a flair up, and you will see the exact opposite.  He is angry and vicious, going straight for the jugular.  When he is mid episode, anything you say can and will most definitely be used against you, it's awful.  Many things that he would never say in a million years otherwise come straight at you like daggers.  This is "the beast", I love my husband with all my heart and would do anything for him, but I will admit, I hate "the beast" with a passion.

It gives me great pride and joy to admit that "the beast" doesn't show up in my house as often anymore as we got through the worst part of healing together.  But sometimes that creature rears it's ugly head around here and makes me want to hide until it leaves again.  Thank you Ativan for making these "visits" shorter!

I attribute some of this healing process to our efforts last summer with WoundedWarriors.ca and connecting with so many amazing people who are at varying stages of recovery.  It made us realize that we are not alone in this struggle and somehow that made it easier.  I'm happy to say that I also have full permission from him to write this blog as we have nothing to hide.  This disorder is what it is and hiding isn't going to change it.

My Goal

I started this blog and wondered just what I could continue to write about and my post about PTSD made me realize that there is a need for people to tell their stories.  A need to share the troubles that exist in our lives, especially when it's something that affects so many. 

So here's my goal with this...

I want to share my family and my stories, our daily lives, wins, struggles and losses.  My hope is that if I can do this, that others can as well.  Families living with PTSD need a voice, so I'll share and we'll see if we can get that voice heard.

Wish me luck... and check back :)

Last Summer

I thought that sharing our experience from last summer might explain why I have such a passion to change the way things are for military, both serving and retired, and how the public views the situation.

This is the write up that was done at the end of the summer for the WoundedWarriors.ca website.

This project started out as a way for our family to honour the men and women whose names appear on the dog tags that we knew, as well as those whom we didn't know.  We set out with a goal to raise $5000.  Over the course of the summer, it has turned into so much more than a fundraiser for Wounded Warriors.  The people we have met have touched our hearts and our lives.

We have had the pleasure of talking, laughing and crying with so many amazing and inspiring people from around the world, with only the connection of duty and honour.  The only way to explain the experience is to tell you a few of the stories (sorry that I can't mention everything, there's too many!)...

On Father's Day we were at a huge car show in Qualicum Beach, one of our first.  I saw a big, burly man with a leather vest come up to the car, take his sunglasses off and have a moment.  He was a veteran of the Bosnia conflict.  With tears in his eyes, he gave Brett a big hug and said thank you for doing what we were doing.

After a few shows, we wanted a way to include others in our project so, on Canada Day we added the first of many signatures to the car.  Brett and I were two of the first but there have been so many added that we will never forget.  Brett was talking to an older man in Hope on Canada Day who mentioned that he had served in the forces, he was asked if he wanted to sign the car, he smiled and said he would love to...  That man was a Korean War vet who served with 2PPCLI at the battle of Kapyong, we were deeply humbled.  We were able to point a few people in the right direction to find the help they needed.

At Comox Nautical Days we were greeted by someone who had only returned from Afghanistan 3 days prior with a huge smile and a comment about parking a LAV.  Brett had the chance to re-connect with some army buddies that he hadn't seen for years.  We also met Lisa McLennan Stackwood who started Horses for Heroes and her husband Liam Stackwood who has done so much.  Brett was chatting with someone who asked a whole lot of questions, by now we had learned that a certain series of questions meant media, she was from Army News out of Edmonton at home visiting her family.  We also had a veteran of the Queen's Own Rifles stop by, who knew my late grandfather when he was the Lt. Col of the regiment, it was nice to know that he was memorable to people other than my family!  Steve “ELVIS” Elliott stopped by in his US Army uniform to sign the car.  I wanted to also mention that while we were standing in the sun at the car show, our kids (with some help) put up a lemonade/popcorn stand and raised a whopping $36 for the charity!

We were at the Abbotsford International Airshow for all 3 days.  We had US service members come and say that they were happy to see the car and “it was about time we see this from a Canadian!”  We had the pleasure of meeting a 101^st Airborne mother who's son was one of the soldiers featured in the movie Restrepo.  She was volunteering that weekend but had tears come to her eyes every day when she came to say hi.  We met Rebecca Carter, a friend of Terry Street, who was touched to see our tribute, she came back to sign the car and get some t-shirts!  I've gotta say that the coolest part of that weekend was when the entire SkyHawks jump team came walking down the strip in their gear to sign the car.  We know that there's the LCF (Look Cool Factor) in the military but this was a whole new level!!

That brings us down to some of our last few shows.  I missed the first day of the Langley International Festival as our kids had other commitments but it was a day that will bring tears to my eyes every time!  Brett had a woman come up to him and say that we had met a friend of hers at a show in Parksville, she was Garrett Chidley's mom.  She touched the tags and Brett could see that she was having a hard time so he chuckled and said that she was alright since she had her sunglasses on, that's around the same time that he admitted that he had his aviators on for the same reason.  She signed our car close to the tags in memory of her son.  Whether I was there or not, that moment made it all worth it!  I wanted to thank the Freedom Biker Church for taking a knee with Brett while I wasn't there...  The whole family was there on Sunday and there were many people to meet and chat with.  We had a group of the UN NATO motorcycle club stop by and buy some of our shirts, they told me that they held a rally for Wounded Warriors and donated over $5000, they rock!  We added a retired Australian Special Forces sergeant signature to the car.  Randy “Elvis” Friskie was kind enough to mention us several times during his shows.  And not to mention, Steve “Elvis” Elliott stopped by and asked us if we wanted to come to a few of his shows and set up beside the stage, of course we do!

We probably won't meet our goal this summer but we realized that that's alright because we opened some eyes, helped some lost people find their way to help and raised awareness for the men and women who have served and continue to serve this country. 

PTSD, Just 4 little letters...

How do I even begin with this???

These four letters have changed my life as I know it...  I am proud to say that my husband is a soldier in the Canadian Forces and has done tours to Bosnia and Afghanistan.  Some people think that you can go to a war torn country and come back without being altered.  This isn't the case.  My husband, like most soldiers, came home different, quick to anger, confused...  This is an issue that many families face in silence, all on their own.  It has carried shame for people over the years, as if for some reason coming home like this makes them less of a soldier.  It doesn't.  The shame needs to go away and we need to stop suffering alone in silence.

I can remember when my husband started therapy.  I always knew when he had a session as he was difficult to be around!  He was so wrapped up in the session, angry, frustrated and sad.  Bringing up the past, his experiences, in his session made my life miserable!  I couldn't make it better for him and I couldn't bring up anything that would frustrate him for fear of an outburst.  I walked on eggshells for days after a session and life returned to normal just in time for the next one!  It was really tough, but we love each other enough to muddle our way through it.  We are some of the lucky ones!

He refused medication recommendations for a long time as he thought that he could get through it without the meds.  This worked for a long time.  It wasn't until our third child was born and had colic that he realized that maybe, just maybe he needed something more.  Oh I remember the hurt look in his eyes when he knew that if he didn't walk away from Jake at 3am that night that he could easily have hurt him.  Anyone that has had a colicky baby knows how that feels but there was more to this.  It was the next day that he went to get something that he could take that would calm him during a spike. 

Jump two days to one of the worst days of my life!  He was prescribed Ativan, a drug that is intended to be fast acting to calm him.  However, a mistake was made and he was told to take it every 4 hours.  Luckily he has some size to him as he could have ended up in the hospital.  It was our middle child's 6th birthday, our baby was 4 months and my dad was coming in from Australia for a visit.  I can't remember exactly what started the chaos but I'm sure it was something small.  His anger spiked and he went from being calm to being in a rage in a second.  The coffee table flew up against the wall and I remember him kicking at the overturned table, yelling at the top of his lungs.  Less than a minute later and he was on the floor consumed with tears asking "What's wrong with me?" over and over again.  I had to go pick my dad up at the airport, but I didn't want to leave him like that.  He told me to go.  I had never seen anything like that before, and I hope never to see it again!  When I returned home about an hour later, he was closer to being his normal self, this "episode" finished.  I made him promise not to take the meds again until he could get them looked at by a doctor.  Sure enough, a mistake was made and this episode was caused by an overdose.  It was awful!!!

You have to understand that my husband is the joker, the one who makes people laugh all the time.  He's usually smiling and making sarcastic comments.  This was completely out of character.  I also want to make it very clear that I have never been afraid of him as I know that he would never cause harm to me or our children as he knows when to walk away.

I have spoken to many military spouses and they all have stories.  We muddle through this disorder all on our own, behind closed doors, for fear of rumors and repercussions with the military.  Why does it have to be this way?  The military says that there is help available.  Of course there is, once you're through the red tape that seems endless.  And when you finally get through the red tape, you have to walk through that door, the door that everybody knows where you're going, everybody knows that if you're walking through that door, there's a problem.  The stats say that 98% of combat veterans have some form of PTSD, why is it still a stigma?

Why do families like mine have to deal with this alone?  I still think it's because people think that it makes someone less of a soldier to have trouble.  These 4 little letters have killed families, friendships, and unfortunately, caused people to take their own lives.  We band together through deployments, I still don't understand why we don't band together through this.  It needs to change, maybe this is where it starts...

Expectations.

Where did our life expectations come from?  There are all these things that are engrained in us from a young age, particular things that you're supposed to do with your life.  I was always told that I was supposed to go to school, have a family, a career, a beautiful home that it immaculate all the time.  How is one person supposed to juggle all of these things and be successful all the time?

I have found myself thinking about these a lot lately.  My dad recently reminded me that I should be going back to school to get my counseling certification so that I can further my assistance to those with PTSD (Post Traumatic Stress Disorder).  When am I supposed to find the time to do that?  I have all the excuses in the world on why not to do it.  A house, kids, a husband, pets, and that keeping up with those things takes up my time.  I know that the counseling is a life goal of mine, I just don't have the time required to devote to that right now, that time will come. 

I try to live my life in the now.  The typical "someday I will..." statement doesn't sit well with me.  As a military family, we have seen firsthand how quickly that statement goes out the window as you really can't foresee what's around the next corner, you really just never know what will happen.  So why do I put that goal on hold?  I think it's because no one is going to put their life on hold while waiting for me to finish, and that's ok!

I have learned to live my life without regret.  I don't want to wake up one day and realize that my kids are grown up and I missed it because I was too busy with school or work.  I'm very proud to say that I'm as close to an old school housewife as I can be.  I'm the mom that makes treats for my kids' classes for holidays and birthdays, attends all the sporting events, and does what I can to enjoy them while they are still small.  I think people are too caught up with other aspects of their lives, work, hobbies, etc, that they miss out on enjoying their kids.

So my priority list will be as follows:

Family - and yes I included the people who are self created family
Friends
House
Everything else

My kids aren't going to wait for me to have time for them, they are growing up even when I'm busy.  I don't want to look back on this time in my life and wish that I had devoted more time to enjoying the chaos.  I'm a mom first and foremost!

Starting from scratch

Everyone seems to have their place in life and some of us find ourselves with many that we fit into at the same time, so where do you start?

The kids!  How do we raise our kids to be the people we hope they become in a world as messed up as the one we find ourselves in?  Start from scratch I'd say.  We teach them morals and guide them through life the way we see it.  Of course there will be hiccups and trouble along the way but we just do the best we can with what we have.  What I don't understand is how the world has changed to be such a scary place since I was a kid.  I remember playing outside and having my tv time limited, why is that such a hard concept for my kids?  Why do they seem to need to be entertained 24/7?  Have we really let our imaginations slip this much?  Taken over by computers and televisions with games replacing talking to people...  We have recently moved half way across the country and I thought that moving from a major city to a small one would find people different, but they really aren't.  We moved into a beautiful new neighborhood and still no one talks to each other!  Is it really that outdated of a practice to say hello to your neighbors?  Just a few months ago I remember baking cookies and taking them over to someone who moved in only to be dismissed.  Will I try again?  Of course I will!  It's just who I am, who my mother raised me to be.  Have people forgotten that at the end of the day, a computer won't help you through life's messes?

Seems to be time to go back to basics!  But where do you start?