Not Alone

Happy Birthday to the Marine Corps!

Bulldog — Tue, 10 Nov 2009 19:50:31 +0000

Semper Fidelis.

A nation unprepared for what war does to the soul

Bulldog — Tue, 10 Nov 2009 17:41:03 +0000

Max Cleland, a veteran and amputee from Vietnam, wrote a powerful piece in the New York Times today. It is a must read. Even though I fought in a different war and a different time combat never changes you and the lasting effects once you get home change your life forever.

“EVERY day I was in Vietnam, I thought about home. And, every day I’ve been home, I’ve thought about Vietnam.”

I always say when you are in combat you think about home but once you get home you can’t stop thinking about combat. It’s the nature of the beast as he points out.

Read the entire article here.

Tragedy and Love – The Hard Learned Lesson

Not Alone — Mon, 09 Nov 2009 16:26:51 +0000

Editor’s note: This is part 4 of a series written by Tatiana von Tauber on family relationships.

I love my husband more than I ever knew. Even in the worst of mental states, he loves me unconditionally and listens to me without ever passing judgment, without ever making me feel less worthy or capable than I am, rarely telling me how and why I should do something other than what I want to do and always speaks with curiosity of how I’ll change tomorrow. It is exactly the opposite of how I was brought up and it serves as a daily light in my life. He brings, even in the midst of his pain, a love that embraces and its comfort is worth the struggles his condition brings to our marriage and life.

When a family doesn’t offer compassion and when a child’s pain is boomeranged, my experience shows that it’s wise to pull away as needed in order to survive. Until I gain strength to deal with the negative pull my family offers-–quite probably unknowingly–the support I need is elsewhere. Places like Not Alone have helped.

It’s a difficult and tormenting discovery but it’s better than confessing my soul and sitting back to wait in wonder if we are (again) being judged behind the fake smiles, being guilted by behavior which wasn’t good enough or given snide or insulting remarks about the man who has expressed more unconditional love and offered more freedom for me to grow than my own family ever did.

It is unfortunate my family is one large negative source but realizing and accepting this has offered reasonable solutions which have created avenues of healing and motivations to continue in the daily walk which often seems like a treadmill leading nowhere. Because of my commitment to my husband, the temporary family break brings me no guilt and while I feel like I should feel guilty, I simply refuse to. My mother gave me life and my family nurtured it but my husband and children are my life and without them, I have nothing of true value.

Editor’s note: This is the last post in a series written by Tatiana von Tauber on family relationships.

For now I seek support from those who respect my husband’s being and mine. In time I’m sure the relationship with my family will better but for now I gain more strength without their presence than with it. It’s the sad tale of reality.

It is sometimes difficult to realize that the darkness of some truths are good for the soul but it really helps to understand that darkness is a cyclic part of life. It’s not static and being such, things do get better over time and the depth of understanding that comes from the void is often times so stunning it’s worth the struggles. They have been for me and I’ve found moderate peace, spiritual clarity, deeper love and reasonable solutions as a result of this experience. Paradoxically, it’s been the best thing that ever happened to my soul. It taught me about the many facets of love and its various sides. Mostly, it’s taught me about the strength of my love for a man who will always be my personal hero.

Bulldog — Fri, 06 Nov 2009 20:33:31 +0000

by Joseph A. Kinney. From The New York Times

Just as there is no way to explain the internal agony of war, there is no real way to explain what happens in its shadow. This is the domain of tortured minds that may never heal. This may very well be the legacy of Fort Hood.

Forty years ago I was a Marine returning from the war in Vietnam. I returned having been badly wounded in the chest and both legs. I tried to find solace in my scars but could not. I had abandoned my buddies only to come home to unchartered waters. Soon I found myself more terrified in peace than I was in war.

There is no way to sort through the nightmare that took place at Fort Hood. Soldiers are not supposed to die on their way to war and they most certainly are not supposed to die at the hands of those who care for their health.

Warfare has a way of making us into something that we are not. I once cuddled a dying Marine who desperately wanted to believe my lie that the medical evacuation chopper was just minutes away. As I watched him die I felt that I was losing part of myself with him. I still see his face in my sleep.

Could it be that the psychiatrist we want to hate saw the unbearable suffering of warriors he was tasked to treat? Could it be that he identified with the suffering of those he treated at Walter Reed Army Hospital? Did he become one of us, another soul tortured by war’s anguish? I cannot forgive this man who betrayed us but I must try and understand him nonetheless.

The toll of war has sounded for generations. My uncle, Perry Truman Brixey, was a Marine 60 years ago. He led 45 men onto the inferno of Wake Island. All but five were killed in action. I look lovingly at my uncle and know that it was his destiny to be forever connected to these gallant warriors just as it is my providence to be connected to those who died in my midst. Frater Infinitas — “brothers forever” — beats in the heart of every Marine.

The government has failed us. The concept of post-traumatic stress disorder was coined to give unequal experiences a dubious uniformity. Clinicians cannot cure P.T.S.D. with therapy and anti-depressants. P.T.S.D. is an illness that cannot be treated, only placated. Those who suffer this affliction must look deep inside themselves and determine that they will live in sunshine as much as their soul will allow. This is why, as I have argued through the years, actual combat veterans, not just clinicians, must facilitate P.T.S.D. groups to give them legitimacy with participants. The Veterans Affairs Administration and the Department of Defense have ignored this counsel in favor of the “scientific” validity of their clinical staffs.

Did warning signs go unheeded at Fort Hood? This question will surely get attention in the coming days and weeks. Should everyone reluctant to fight in war be given a pass? I think not.

In a few short days another Veterans’ Day will be celebrated. There will be parades both large and small saluting those who stepped forward to serve this nation. This is a painful period. Yet we should look to those who serve this country well. If we do, we will survive this pain.

Joseph A. Kinney is a decorated Marine combat veteran living in Pinehurst, N.C.

This is who we should be talking about.

Bulldog — Fri, 06 Nov 2009 20:32:40 +0000

The woman who stopped a mass murderer.

Tragedy and Love – Coming to Terms with Reality

Not Alone — Fri, 06 Nov 2009 16:14:07 +0000

Editor’s note: This is part 3 of a series written by Tatiana von Tauber about family relationships.

Perhaps my mother felt that she lost me, the only me she knew, and needed some confirmation that I was still there, still saw her the same way but I didn’t have time to think of those things.  Though we had been apart for years and I took her grandchildren away in exchange for love, I didn’t have energy to nurture the grandma-n-kids kind of life that was desired.

I could barely get out of bed and care for the kids.  I had a suicidal husband that took precedence. I was accused of being self-centered and egotistical because all I talked about was myself, yet because of our transition back into America and no friends, I had no one else to talk to about me–my problems, kids, husband, marriage, concerns, fears, pains, frustrations– the life I felt was quickly flushing down the toilet.  For the course of a couple years or more, there was nothing in my life but enormous trauma and the problems which enveloped it!  Perhaps it is a selfish thing for one to focus on one’s own continued existence but survival is a fundamental driving force and I intently choose survival.

The moments of chaos and depression where I exposed my deepest woes to my family turned into ammunition against my character and my loyal love.  I realized my mother was not who I had long thought she was and as a result, I lost trust in her guidance completely.

I mourned what I felt was my mother’s death but came to terms with the fact that I’ve grown beyond her field of vision about life.  This doesn’t equate to better but certainly broader.  That just makes me better prepared to not only deal with reality but improve it. I realize I become a broken record sometimes and all the negative talk does weigh down family and friends and so I’ve learned it’s important to find other avenues of venting or communication. No one wants to hear another’s misery all the time, especially family.

Fort Hood

Not Alone — Fri, 06 Nov 2009 15:39:51 +0000

Tragic. Horrifying. Yet another incredible burden for our men and women in arms playing out on the national stage.

We offer our heartfelt prayers and respect to the many families that have suffered grievous loss. No amount of words, no amount of prayer, no amount of respect is sufficient to deal with the pain.

There is no excuse for the killing. There will be all sorts of recriminations and investigations and attempts to prevent another situation like this. But our troops have undertaken such epic strain, so far beyond what the general public can ever imagine, that tragedies will continue to happen, no matter what anyone does. It’s the nature of war, and this war in particular.

But beyond all the analysis, the whys, and the “why-can’t-we-prevents”, lies senseless, unexplainable pain and loss. For all the men and women who bear sacrifices that tear out hearts and destroy souls, our prayers are with you. Now and forever.

May God help us bring comfort and understanding to all of you who come to us, so you are not alone in your struggle.

Tragedy and Love – Family Abandonment

Not Alone — Thu, 05 Nov 2009 16:06:24 +0000

Editor’s note: This is part 2 of a series written by Tatiana von Tauber about family relationships.

Our transition back to the US was torture.  My husband’s condition was mild when we arrived but after the first month of his new station duty, work ignited a trigger creating chaos and turmoil for him.  He ended up seeking professional help.  He was withdrawn, stressed and clearly unhappy.  As a result of an overseas transition, and a substantial increase of PTSD related family problems, I was much the same. My family thought I was complaining and stressing out too much, not giving myself enough time to relax, placing too much “breadwinner” responsibility on myself. They didn’t understand I was living in a constant state of external pressure to create order out of chaos for the sake of my family’s welfare and my sanity.

Worse, my parents thought my husband was being unfriendly via his withdrawal, unsupportive in ways his children and wife needed him in and in some ways, the cause of family burdens. My inability to provide superficial acknowledgement of love via cards, emails, telephone calls, visits, gifts, etc., on a regular basis were taken as signs of lacking love or disrespect. Their viewpoint was well understood and justified from the bits of information they had so I exposed the full truth, including his suicidal tendencies.

Over the course of a few months my parents became increasingly intolerant or insulted by various behaviors that hadn’t changed and tensions heightened. The fact that he was suicidal didn’t seem to make an imprint. I was accused of babying my husband.  He was accused of being a wimp, not a real man, an unspoken profanity expression.  In tears I expressed some of the torment he and I have dealt with in an effort to seek compassion. Instead I got snide remarks and judgment and ultimately a nasty fight which ended the once untarnished view of my respected blood-line.

I spiraled downward but I knew that if I was down and my husband was down, our family could be destroyed. While I knew I’d crack at some point, I expected it in the future when my husband would be strong enough to support me back. Eventually I couldn’t hold on anymore and the strings broke.  Though we found temporary solutions and things are on the up with us, things have become complicated in terms of family.  Everything seems so superficial now and I find I can’t be myself because when I was, what shone through was denied as acceptable, sneered at as over-dramatic and judged through narrow glasses.

While I will be there as a supportive daughter, the friend part of my parental-child relationship has somehow ceased to exist.  I no longer trust this friend I call a mother though this does not equal a loss in love.  It’s just different – forever.  There’s no going back to way it used to be.  Seven years abroad and my husband’s condition reshaped me.

My mother was angry I had changed but life is constant change and no one can ever expect another to be static and one must accept the growth of another even when that growth no longer sits in the same level of reality as it once did.  To not accept or expect such is to in a sense “sinful” as it demands a loss of soul and traps another’s sense of freedom.  Desire to change, grow, learn, and overcome adversity – these are the makings of individuals who persevere over their downfalls, who serve as examples to those who seek positive role models.  These are true survivors.  PTSD is a downfall and in dealing with a loved one who suffers from it means, naturally, one will change in matters about life and its dynamics.  I am a completely different person as a result of PTSD’s influence.

The Corporal that changed everything

Not Alone — Thu, 05 Nov 2009 12:29:10 +0000

Dr. Heidi Kraft, a clinical psychologist, deployed to Iraq as part of a Marine Corps surgical company.

Though she witnessed countless deaths, one Marine, Corporal Jason Dunham, stuck with her. His death changed her life and was the inspiration for her book: Rule Number Two.

This is not fun

Bulldog — Thu, 05 Nov 2009 12:13:08 +0000

I have talked about coming home before. Quite possibly one of the worst things that I did when I came home was to isolate myself from everyone around me. When I came back from my second tour, I did not want to be around anyone that knew me, except for the soldiers that I served with. It was too difficult to be around my family and friends. And civilians . . . I just couldn’t deal with them. They just didn’t understand what I had been through over the past two years. They didn’t get it.

The only people I wanted to talk to were my soldiers, or other soldiers that had fought there. Not just the ones that deployed, but the ones that fought. There was a distinction to me. Maybe it wasn’t fair but I didn’t want to talk to a FOBBIT that spent their entire year, their whole tour on a Forward Operating Base in the PX, gym, chow hall, and living in a conex with air conditioning. I wanted to talk to other warriors that understood what it was like to get shot at or hit by an IED, to spend weeks or months on a combat outpost. Those were the people I wanted around me. Those were the people I sought out. I really didn’t care about anyone else. It took time, but over the course of a year or so, it wore me down and I found myself alone and angry.

I had a choice to make. For the first time in my life, I had to take a good hard look at myself. I had to figure out how to make my life better. I didn’t want to live like this, isolated and alone. I had to take control again. I decided that I wanted to come out of my shell. I wanted my life back. Isolation sucks the happiness out of you. I refused to give in to it. I wanted to be happy again.

The good news is I found the road back. It’s a long one, but I’m on it and I’ve found the passion for life again. You just have to find what works for you. Try something different. You don’t want to just survive in life, you want to thrive in life. For me it was about getting a dog, re-establishing myself, finding my family, and coming home–really coming home. What is it for you?

If you want to find out more about how to stop being alone, click here and come talk with us and other warriors in our forum under “Isolating.”