It’s been 20 years. I boarded the plane without any idea of what lay ahead. I was embarking on a 2-year period of psychosis. No amount of time pushes the memories completely out of my psyche.
SERO
It’s been 20 years. Why am I questioning my recent decision to speak up for myself? Why am experiencing those same feelings of rejection?
It’s been 20 years. Why am I questioning my perception? Why don’t I know who to trust?
It’s been 20 years. Why do I feel the same urge to run away? Why am I struggling not to believe that I’d better off “layin’ in that dirt”
It’s been 20 years. I’m not okay. I’m tired. I need help.
It’s been 20 years. I made the decision to accept the necessary help. Surrounded by my Veteran Brothers and Sisters in, I found comfort in knowing that I am not the only one.
It’s been 20 years. I made it to the other side. The pain is no longer pulling me down.
I’m going to be alright. We’re all going to be alright.
Tag: PTSD
I’m healing. I’m safe. I’m home.
This summer will be the 20th anniversary of my deployment to Rhein Maine, Germany. I deployed in an attempt to release the anger that started after being sexually assaulted by a fellow Airman in 2023. As Amy Lee sings in Tourniquet, “I tried to kill my pain but only brought more…so much more.”
I’ve often wonder if I imagined the trauma I experienced the summer of 2004. I would be lying if I didn’t admit that I tend to blame myself for all of it.
The question I have carried since my return has been: “Why?” Instead of obsessively looking for the answers or numbing myself, I recognize that self-blame gives me a false sense of control. Could I have handled things differently? Sure. I could have done a million things differently. However, all of the “could have’s, should have’s, and would have’’s” serve no purpose other than adding to the guilt and shame.
So how do I deal with the questions and memories? One of the ways I chose to heal was by arranging videos to various songs. The lyrics reflected the feelings trapped inside. I found a way to express what I believed to be unexplainable. When I’m struggling, I use my video journal to remind myself that while I may not be where I want to be, I’m sure as Hell not where I was.
One of my last nights in Germany, I was asked by the Squadron Commander: “What do you want?” My answer was simple: “I just want to go home.” This video captures how I felt when I returned home; alone, unworthy, and rejected. When I’m triggered, I still often feel that way. Instead of latching onto those emotions. I remind myself that I’m stronger than my past and my lowest moments.
I’m healing. I’m safe. I’m home.
– SERO
Dear Sonia
Dear Sonia,
I know that you feel completely overwhelmed. The current stress associated with your work injury has you spinning. As much as you want to trust the doctors at Concentra, you know that they do not care about injured employees. Instead they care about the corporations who use them to evaluate injured employees. The goal is not to provide top-notch medical care; the goal is to save the insurer money. This unfortunately is the reality of the current situation.
I know that there is another force at play behind the scene. I know that you are dealing with the memories of returning from Germany with physical and mental injuries. As much as you tell yourself that the past cannot hurt you now, you cannot stop the panic that is causing your heart to pound and your body to tense. Fighting the fear is causing you to want to shut off and run away. Fighting the fear is also pushing you to act out of anger; to act hastily. Instead, I implore you to step back for a moment. Take a moment to breathe. Take a moment to believe in your ability to protect yourself in a calm and rational manner. You are smart. You are resourceful. You are your biggest supporter.
Instead of fighting the past, change your focus. Do not dwell on the painful memories of being abandoned; rather, focus on the strength you found to fight back. Focus on the courage it took to demand medical care. Focus on the fact that even while you were somewhat “disconnected” from reality, you found a way to protect yourself.
Believe in yourself. Trust that you will survive once again. You are a warrior. You are a fighter. I love you and I believe in you.
Sincerely, SEROI Can’t Breathe
Today I have a phone appointment with my psychiatrist. Over the past few days, I have contemplated what to say. The obvious is that depression has cloaked itself around me. It’s a struggle to function outside of work. I often escape reality by closing my eyes as I sleep away the day. And then comes the shame of wasting my time. The shame of not being strong. The shame of feeling dead while my body continues to function. The shame of having so much to be thankful for; yet, feeling like none of it matters.
And then we have the medication paradox. When we lower my medication, I feel so incredibly raw. My emotions stifle my lungs and it’s hard to breathe. With medication, I feel so incredibly numb that nothing seems to matter. Is there a middle ground? Is there a way to live without feeling so disconnected from life? Or is this just how I will continue to function as an individual with PTSD? Barely living. Barely breathing.
“Emotional pain is not something that should be hidden away and never spoken about. There is truth in your pain, there is growth in your pain, but only if it’s first brought out into the open.” —Steve Aitchison
This War Is Over
I was scheduled to leave Frankfurt, Germany on July 31, 2004. I checked in my luggage and obtained my ticket/boarding pass. The relief I felt as I handed over my boarding pass quickly vanished. Somehow my ticket had been canceled and I would not be allowed to board the plane. Fortunately, I contacted the individual responsible for securing transportation for arriving and departing members. This individual’s name is Jaime. Jaime was able to purchase a ticket to depart the next day and lodging off base. Jaime assured me that he would not get into any trouble and that the MEO (Military Equal Opportunity officer) would protect him. Jaime and another member of the deployment squadron drove me to the lodging without informing anyone else that I was still in Germany. Jaime told me to rest, not to go back on base, and to take the hotel shuttle back to the airport in the morning. I should have listened to him.
I ran back to the base which was a few miles up the road and made my way to Jaime’s room. I needed to ask him one simple question: what was said behind my back about the informal sexual harassment complaint I had filed? I was told that I was seen as a traitor and all I did was complain. I was told that my room and office had been bugged and everything I had said and done would be used to prove that I was mentally unfit. That the goal was to get me kicked out of the Air Force. My heart broke into a million pieces with each word. I thanked Jaime for telling me the truth and left.
I returned to my room with a broken soul. I knew I had not broken any rules or regulations. I knew I followed protocol when I reported the sexual harassment. What did I do wrong? All I knew was that I could not face my family if I was going to be dishonorable discharged from the military. I couldn’t return to my unit and be seen as anything less than an overachiever who loved the Air Force. Betrayal, despair, confusion, and a severe lack of sleep lead me down a very dark road which ended with suicide. I picked up the phone to tell my Mother goodbye one last time. When she answered she was crying. My Mother told me she missed me and just wanted me home. As I put down the phone, I knew I couldn’t end my life.
The next morning, August 1, 2004, I boarded the plane. As the plane ascended, I started to write down everything that happened during my 53-day deployment. The lack of sleep, the betrayal, the fear, confusion, and reliving my experience created the perfect storm. This perfect storm was the switch between sanity and psychosis. As I was leaving behind one nightmare, I did not realize I was slipping into one which would last for two years.
When the lights of Albuquerque became visible, “This War Is Over” started to play in my mind.
Take off my shield
Carry my sword
I won’t need it anymore
Find me a sky
Give me my wings
Frozen and broken but free
Tell them I’m all right
I’m coming home
Tell them I’m all right
I am alone
This war is over
I’m coming home
Take off my shame
Bury it low
I won’t need it anymore
Find me the sun
Give me it whole
Melt all the chains in my soul
Tell them I’m all right
I’m coming home
Tell them I’m all right
I am alone
This war is over
I’m coming home
Take off my pain
Carry me slow
I won’t fight here anymore
Tell them I’m all right
I’m coming home
Tell them I’m all right
I am alone
This war is over
I’m coming home
I will never be able to make sense of what happened in Germany. I will never be able to forget the torment and fear that is called psychosis. I will never be able to forget the shame I felt when I was denied re-enlistment. But I will also never forget that somehow in all of the confusion, I found the strength to fight for a medical retirement. I found the strength to ask for help when the psychosis was too much to handle on my own. I know that strength started the moment my Mother told me to come home. And the strength continued with the love and support of my Parents and family, my friend Mark, Theresa, and La-Tressa, and so many other amazing people. I am so grateful that I found the strength to keep living.
Resisting My Thoughts
Today was a day full of self doubt as I fought against my thinking. How can I explain the lure of an imaginary world created to help me survive my traumatic experience while deployed? For me, there is a thin line between sanity and insanity. I fear this line more than anything. For me, finding my way back to reality was a two year struggle. The day I boarded the plane to leave Germany, my grasp on reality seemed to slip away in an instant. Betrayal. Mind games. Relentless harassment from my brothers and sisters in arms. Where did I go wrong? Why did they turn against me? Why did they pretend to be my ‘friends’ to my face; yet, call me a traitor behind my back? Why? The day I left Germany, I felt as though a part of me was dying. In order to survive, I created an imaginary world. In my imaginary world, I was safe and everyone I came into contact with was sent to help me. So many unreal beliefs helped me survive. I can never explain the comfort I found in my delusions. I can never explain that while my delusions were comforting, there was always so much fear beneath the surface.
Over the past 14 years, the memories of my imaginary world fill my soul with shame. So many times, I wish I could explain to people who abandoned me after Germany. I wish I could explain that the person I became in order to survive wasn’t really me. Somewhere and somehow, I had become someone lost in delusions and paranoia. While there are individuals I wish I could apologize to, there are also those that I wish I could seek vengeance against. When I needed help the most, I found myself alone and pushed out of sight. Betrayal. Who knew it could cause so much anguish?
Today, my thoughts were deafening. I had to fight off paranoia as “ideas of reference” tried to take over my thinking. While I love my job, I have experienced a great deal of harassment from management. I’m not the only employee who is constantly under the radar. In truth, we all are as drivers. However, there are certain individuals that management tries to “break” into bending the rules to make their unrealistic productivity goals. I am one of those individuals. The thing that management does not realize is that the harassment hits me a little differently. It triggers my PTSD. When my PTSD is triggered, I doubt myself. I often wonder if I am fighting the current situation or the inescapable memories of yesterday.
While I found myself fighting my past today, I also recognize that I still possess the strength to challenge my thinking. It is because of my past that I am able to find the courage to stand up for myself. While I may not make their numbers, I am a good employee. While I maybe “slow,” I try to give my customers the best service possible. I don’t take shortcuts. There is a right and a wrong way to do my job, and I will always pick the right way. I will always put integrity first.
Even though I felt myself stumble on my thoughts today, I pushed past it and made it through the day. So in many ways, I’m strangely grateful for my past.
Sharing And Surviving 