Sad indeed, Anita. For me, and I KNOW that for many of us, coming home from war is all too often more difficult than the war itself. The time that I wrote it was very difficult. But writing it helped me vent. The emotion reflecting the memories is what my band of brothers and sisters and myself continue to go through. When I read it again, it is still difficult but is getting better, in that now I think of my best friend, this amazing man, in a happy memory, the fun times we did have however few they were. It is equally important for me to express my sadness as it is expressing my happiness. Maybe someday I’ll be able to “come home” as they say, but for now when I do have those PTSD memories creep in to my mind, I capture that moment and send them off to a place called “that was then this is now”, and trade those thoughts for ones of gratefulness. It’s not always easy but it is getting better for me. Ironically those experiences in the Middle East were key in making me a different person in a very good way.

I am grateful that your emotion, the ” So very sad. So very. Very sad.” that you expressed has allowed me to respond in the depth that I did because it allowed me to “talk about it” which is profoundly difficult for me to do even to this day. Thank you for giving me the chance to talk about it. It is a rare moment for me to trust enough to do that and for some reason, the opportunity for me to trust the gift that you have extended to me is met without hesitation, suspicion, apprehension, and fear. From my heart and soul to yours, thank you Anita.

Pearce

Hi Anita,

Sometimes, a lot of the time, I experience some difficulty in what it is I want to say. I call it, getting stuck. But thank you for taking the time to share your thoughts with me. I don’t sit around and try to assemble some meaningful kind words to say. They just happen.

What you said about PTSD being stored in a certain part of the brain is true. It is yet not possible for me to avoid the things that trigger my PTSD, but it is becoming easier to recognize the precursors that bring them to life. Yes, those visions are very real. They get triggered by things such as a helicopter flying overhead, by cars back firing, seeing ads for these war games either at a bus stop or a tv commercial, the games that the kids absolutely have to have. One HUGE event that triggers PTSD visions is when I am driving by a street construction site and a jack hammer goes off. There is, however, one thing that triggers my PTSD that shames me beyond imagination. This is very risky for me to say for obvious reasons as others who read this may think bad things of me. When I see a woman dressed in her Hijab I start to get very nervous and my mind goes on hyper alert. A month ago I was in the bank talking with the banker who was going over my account with me. At one point two women came in to the bank wearing their Niqab. When they walked in, their pace was fast and deliberate. As they went to the teller, I went on high alert, got physically nauseated, started sweating profusely, and reached toward my hip expecting to find my gun. This happens at any place, any moment, such as the grocery store, the park, wherever. My bank teller friend knows about my PTSD. When he recognized what was happening he put his hand on my shoulder and said let’s go outside. Not only does this experience resurrect bad memories, they also remind me of the survival guilt I have.

I must let you and anyone else who reads this and may be offended, please to know that I swear I cannot help it. These reactions are not conscientious. Nor do they reflect my true belief, in any way shape, or form, about these women and the culture. Sometimes when this happens I feel as though I stepped in a pool of quicksand of bad memories. Anyone who may be insulted by my reactions, I apologize profusely and know that it is not a real reflection of what I believe.

I am going to my beach now. It is my sanctuary. It is less than 1/8th of a mile away. When I go to my beach, there is nothing adverse going on in my life. I am at total peace there. Thank you for your understanding.

Pearce

• This reply was modified 7 years, 4 months ago by PearceHawk.

Hi Anita…First and foremost I want to tell you that I hope that your ankle(?) injury is but a distant memory. I appreciate the time you took to share your kind words with me. Even though I totally get the fight/flight idea, sometimes I get caught up with having to defend myself against events that, although they happened many years ago, they still feel like 5 minutes ago. Episodes like the bank are an emotional ambush, and believe me being ambushed is no stranger to me, and they happen so fast that it is very hard to come back to reality in a split second and dismiss them as history. When that (emotional ambush) happens it takes me, I’d say perhaps 5-10 minutes to realize I am not there, I am here, and I am doing ok. That 5-10 minutes spent in a memory like that feels like a day. But when I finally realize that memory, that ambush is history, the relief I feel is one of liberation. All of a sudden that glass full of turbid water is now clear and pristine. Taking in that glass of clear cool water feels good.

Concerning the neurological injury, I still am reminded of that time when it happened because the pain is 24/7/365. Much of the time it is quite tolerable while other times it gets so painful that I wish I couldn’t walk again because that particular pain is paralyzing and unbearable. The reasons for that kind of pain is a constant reminder of that memory which sneaks in and winds up on the big screen. But to deal with it, I think in terms of my back hurts, that’s all, nothing more. I never complain about it. For me to complain about it has no therapeutic value. Ice/heat packs and jacuzzi time is.

I enjoy the beach every day since it is less than 1/8th of a mile from my home. Just to share a funny thought with you, yesterday an older husband and wife couple were visiting from Canada. The woman, who has a kind soul for sure, after telling me how wonderful it is at the beach, she asked me if it was always like this here. I told her no, half the time it is night time 🙂 The husband said, “Now I KNOW we’re in California,” and they both busted up laughing.

Anyway, thank you for sharing your very encouraging and kind words. It’s who you are and it’s what you do.

Pearce