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Happy Veteran’s Day!

Happy Veteran’s Day to all veterans out there!  I wish you the best and thank you for your service and sacrifices.

I’ve been typing out a now fairly lengthy post on Veteran’s Day and what it means to me to be a veteran.   Much like my previous PTSD post from last weekend, I’m not going to post it either.

Most of it was all pride and glory and sacrifice and nobility: like most of the stuff you read getting passed around on Facebook.  And all of that is true and fair.

But then I also typed up a long list of how being a veteran also meant a lifetime of pain, wrangling your conscience about taking another human life, dealing with the betrayal of a “battle buddy” who hurt you, spending the rest of your life trying not to become a “22 a day” statistic, and on and on.  There was just as large a host of negative aspects of military service as there was positive one.

There are a LOT of veterans out there for whom the negatives far outweigh the positives, and so I decided not to post my flag-waving, chest thumping, USA chanting post.   I don’t want them reading that post and saying, “that isn’t what it was like for me” and feeling like their service wasn’t sufficient, or their sacrifice wasn’t meaningful, or that they somehow “did it wrong”.

Instead I’ll be happy to just wish all my veteran friends who see this a happy Veteran’s Day, and my hope that you are happy on all days after this as well.

Take care of each other out there…

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Update After My Hiatus

I’ve been on a hiatus and think I should give an update on life.  With nothing really going on I just haven’t found anything to write about.   Of course things have happened, but they all seem so small and insignificant at the time that they don’t seem worth mentioning.  It is only in the accumulation of seemingly insignificant changes that the scope of the change becomes apparent.

HOUSE PROJECT UPDATE

Things aren’t moving as quickly as I’d like, but they are moving about as quickly as they could possibly move.  We finished the wiring/plumbing/etc last week; HVAC was installed last week, and the sheetrock was hung this week.  The sheetrock mudders will be in on Monday.   By the end of the week we should be able to paint.

While the sheetrock was going up this week we were working on the deck that is going out the south side of the great room (going to have to stop calling it that because now it is a collection of small rooms that are no greater than any other rooms).   We have the supports up and joists up.  We don’t have any decking or railing on yet.  That might happen this week while the mudders have us out of the place again this week.

As soon as we can get back in we will paint just as quickly as possible and then get to finishing the bathroom and working on flooring.

I will try to get some video edited of what the space looks like out to you soon!

MISSOURI/FINANCES UPDATE

We have accepted (grudgingly) that we won’t be moving back to MO anytime soon.  This is sad.  We don’t want to lose the property though just in case we ever do find a way to get back there.

Even though we are way under water on the mortgage for a house that no longer exists, we have still been making the payments.   I’ve tried reaching the bank to see if we can work something out but they refuse to speak to me.  If nothing else I’d like to get approval to lower my payments since there is no insurance on the property (why would there be?) and the taxes are going to be MUCH lower now with no home.

We have sold our cattle.  They have been at a neighbors house since the fire and he took care of them over the winter.  I had him haul them to auction this week and should get a check for them soon.  That will help out a lot of things!

We haven’t decided how/when we are going to collect the rest of our things.  I think it is feasible to have everything loaded into my storage unit and then ship the entire thing here to Utah, but I don’t have a good way of getting it all loaded.  I could ask friends/neighbors to do it for me, but that seems like a big ask.   Maybe my Dad goes back and does it with help.  May I have to do it?  Still undecided.

FAMILY UPDATE

Everyone is fine.  Caitlin (15) and Joshua (13) had birthdays.  Everyone is healthy and enjoying the summer.  They’d like to not be working at my parents so much, but it hasn’t been bad.  With frequent (near daily) trips to the pool or the new splash pad in Bluffdale they are all getting out a lot.  They’ve done some hiking and sports too.

I think everyone is apprehensive about the move.  We know my parents place won’t be done.  We only have 2 weeks from today, so I don’t even know what state of cleanliness it will be in.   But school is starting, so we will move in regardless and make the best of it.   Maybe with school starting it will help make things easier for Julie and I to get things into a more livable condition.

VA/MENTAL HEALTH UPDATE

I’m surviving.  I’m still going to all my regular appointments (several a week) and getting by.

I have started and completed the beginners portion of Canines with a Cause.  I still don’t have my own dog but have been working with their dogs.  The first part of the intermediate class that begins in a few weeks will be looking for my own dog.  The timing is working out fine since I couldn’t have my own here at the Penrod’s, but can have one as soon as we move.   This will go a LONG way to helping my anxiety and will hopefully be beneficial in dealing with nightmares too.

Julie is still crazy!

EXERCISE/HEALTH UPDATE

You haven’t seen any running logs since the pool opened because we stopped running.  We have instead been swimming.  I have the kids do laps each time we show up to keep them doing some cardio, then they are free to go play (which rarely includes actual swimming).

My exercise has been fine, but hasn’t resulted in any weight loss.  I think it has trimmed up my waist a little bit (several people have mentioned it), but my actual weight hasn’t gone down.  Perhaps with time.

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Mental Health Crisis

While I had an absolute blast on Saturday at the Elders Quorum social shootout, it wasn’t all roses and might have started me on the path toward a mental health crisis.

Dealing with Mental Health Issues

While I have several firearms, and feel like I am quite proficient in their use, I don’t actually use them all that often. Last weekend was the first time in 2017.  I think I only had them out once in all of 2016.

I’ve even stopped carrying my sidearm.  I still have my carry permit, fully support carrying, and think it is largely a smart thing to do.  But while I think having one is a good idea for most people, unfortunately I think it might be more dangerous for myself to have one.  Maybe as my treatments at the VA continue this will improve.

I was slightly nervous about the shootout on Saturday, but mostly that was nervousness about other people’s safe handling of the weapons.  And everything at the event was fine.  I felt good.  But later, after returning home, I started not doing so well.

Mental Health Crisis

I don’t know even if it is directly relatable to the shootout.   I was slightly depressed all afternoon afterwards though.  And when I get depressed I want to snack as a way to distract myself.  About 10pm I headed to the store to pick up a bag of chips.  I had the windows down as I drove to feel the cool night air.

There is a Maverick gas station on the corner of  state street and 300 East in Pleasant Grove.  As I went through that intersection a man I didn’t see yelled to someone else, “Hey, will you…(something). ”   I can’t identify why, probably the inflection in his voice similar to somebody else I knew, but something about that sentence had me back at Fort Huachuca in an instant.

As I rounded the corner of that intersection, only a fraction of a second after hearing the words, I was already in a panic.  I was shaking and terrified.  Immediately I pulled over into the Smith’s parking near the same corner.   I spent 20 minutes there just trying to breath; to relax; to convince myself that I WAS safe.  It was as long a 20 minutes as I’ve had in quite a while.

I texted Julie, only telling her that I wish she had come because I was feeling “some anxiety.”  I had thought about telling her to grab Blake (her father) and coming to pick me up.  I was in really bad shape, but I didn’t do that because I didn’t want to reveal to Blake/Joan how bad I was doing.  (Yes, I see the irony of that decision and then sharing it here on the blog.)

Ongoing Issues

The only reason I relate this to the shooting at all is that during the episode I kept hearing the gunshots ringing in my ears.  They’re probably unrelated.

I eventually convinced myself I WAS safe and calmed down.  I made it home just fine.  That was Saturday night.  Sunday was… difficult.  No full blown meltdown at church like I’ve done before, but periods of it were difficult to get through.

Monday was… fine.  Julie has spent several days trying to coax me to talk.  But I don’t know what to say to her.  She can tell I haven’t been well. Nightmares, as expected, have been worse than normal.

Today, Tuesday, wasn’t a great day either.  This morning, still on edge and dealing poorly with the stress, I got a phone call from the insurance which didn’t help (I’ll write more about that in another post).  That was while on the way to my parents to do some work again today.

No work took place though.  While discussing what needed to be done my Dad made some fairly benign comments directed at me that set me off.  I didn’t want to blow up so I just left.  I stood, said I couldn’t handle it today, and left.  Julie tried to stop me saying Dad was just joking.  I said I was leaving and if she wanted a ride home she better get in the car too.  A few minutes later we were on the road back home.

Family is great… but everyone needs a friend!

So here I sit feeling like a grade A loser unable to control his emotions.  I feel like I’m just barely hanging on.   I wish desperately I had a friend to call.  The one and only good friend I feel like I’ve had since my discharge is now way back in Missouri, possibly never to be seen again.  A while back he suggested I get out there and meet people, saying I’m a great guy and will find friends.

Despite feeling like I’ve tried doing that, it hasn’t happened yet.  Everybody else at my stage in life seems to already be set in stone with work, schedules, friends, family.  Nobody has time/room in their life for a needy, broken vet.  I can’t blame them.  I wouldn’t really want to hang out with a depressing mental case either.

I’m desperately missing Joshua, who is at Scout Camp this week.  With him here I could find a reason to get out of the house at least and go help him practice some basketball or golf.

Don’t panic… I know I’m loved.

I know Julie loves me, and so do the kids.  And my parents.  I know that.  I know I can talk to them (despite what happened with my Dad today).  I’m sure I could probably reach a church leader or two.   I know there are people to talk with, even if it is only because of their calling, but I wish I had even one good friend as well who I could call up and get together with.

And I wish I could stop all this damn crying!

 

 

 

 

 

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Angels Among Us

I believe in angels, both the seen and unseen.  The immortal ones, and the average, everyday, human kind of angel.

I was at a church event this week (New Beginnings) with my daughter, Caitlin.  It was kind of a recognition ceremony that doubled to encourage the girls to live by the values they profess.

When talking of doing “good works” one of the presenters there shared the story of the High School valedictorian who gave a speech where he told the story of how he had cleaned out his locker and was planning on committing suicide that weekend… only someone noticed him as he was on his way home and they spent the weekend (and high school years) together.   (Here’s a link to the story of Kyle).

Well it got me to remembering the Angel that saved my life, Ryan Neilsen, while I was at Fort Huachuca.   I had a hard time at Fort Huachuca do to the unfortunate presence of just a couple of soldiers there who found particular delight in my misery, but it was the presence there of Nielsen that helped me survive the place.

I had filed several informal charges* against one particular guy who was the main problem.   Despite this though the cadre provided no relief and he didn’t restrain himself at all, in fact he was encouraged by the lack of action by the NCO’s.  So things got worse for me.  Thankfully there was  a friend in the unit who was a strength at a time I was weak.

After one particularly bad week of harassment and abuse I had decided to just give up.   I was done.  I couldn’t handle the stress of the current situation and had started to believe it would never get better.  I had broken down and was sobbing and slightly hysterical.   I stumbled over to the Chaplain’s office to try to reach out for help from him, but it was locked and he was gone.

I probably spent 10 minutes just sitting outside the locked doors sobbing and thinking of ways to make the pain/suffering stop.  After a while I was able to stop shaking enough to pull my phone from my pocket and called Nielsen**.   I don’t know that he could understand a thing I said and I tried to talk to him.   He knew I was in bad shape though and asked where I was.   Thankfully he was nearby, close enough that in just a few moments I saw him sprinting his way toward me.

It was a sight I’m sure I’ll never forget, seeing him running toward me to save me from the darkness I was enveloped in.   He talked to me, calmed me, and helped me find additional care.   He was an angel of comfort doing the Lord’s work.  Because of that day, and others like it, Ryan quite literally saved my life.   My family was the reason I chose to kept living, but Nielsen was the one who help me make that choice.

That man has my undying gratitude and will forever, eternally, have my respect and love.  I don’t know if he even remember this incident, but I hope that he knows that if he ever needs me, I will likewise come running to his aid.

In a world full of ugliness, terrorists, hatred, and pain, it is easy to believe that those things are the only things to find in the world.  But you can find some way to be an angel.  Find some way to encourage those around you.  Try to SEE those around you who are hurting, are afraid, are alone, or are ready to give up.  It might only take a moment of kindness to save a life.   It only took a moment to save Kyle’s, and it only took a moment to save mine.

 

* I did end up filing formal charges.

** I could have called Julie, but she seemed too far away.  Plus I wanted to shield her from the pain I was feeling.

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“Fencing, fighting, torture, revenge…” You know the rest!

“Fencing, fighting, torture, revenge, giants, monsters, chases, escapes, true love, miracles…”

Many of you will recognize that as the epic description that “Grandpa” gives before reading “The Princess Bride” to his sick Grandson.  As one of the most quotable movies of all time, it is a fine film that many have thoroughly enjoyed for several decades now.

“As you wish”

Unfortunately, and far less enjoyably, that description also applies to what I experience almost every night when I close my eyes.  My particular experience with PTSD has less to do with my waking hours than it does with my non-waking ones.   There are some manifestations that take place when I’m up and about, but the worst ones are the ones that play out across my synapses while I sleep. I might talk about the causes of my PTSD at a later time, but I’m not up for that right now.  Suffice it to say that I have it.

It is a fact of human biology that we MUST sleep.  And those moments are pure torture for me.  As soon as I close my eyes I’m almost always whisked away and placed in some form of danger.   I’m being held captive somewhere, I’m being tortured, I’m watching people operate on me while I’m ‘awake’, I’m in a house surrounded by people trying to get in to kill me, etc.   Those dreams are pretty bad.  I toss and turn while asleep (also not good with my back), wake in sweaty panics, and just find no rest.

But those aren’t the worst ones.  Part of my PTSD comes from an individual who made some very descriptive threats against my family.  The nightmares where those are played out, or where my brain expands on them, are the worst.  I can’t tell you how many times I’ve seen my wife raped, or a child killed, or been frantically searching for someone who has been taken,  have tried to escape some potential tormentor who is giving chase, or in some other horrendous way watched the mutilation, violation, torture, or deaths of a family member at the hands of some villain (who I occasionally know) that I was unable to stop.  Those nights are the absolute worst, and they come far too often.

I wish there were some better treatment for this.  Since getting here in SLC sometime in November I’ve been regularly seeing someone at the VA.  Supposedly over time things might calm down or stop.  It’s been 8 years since I left the Army though, so I’m not holding my breath.   Other vets have told me that they find some of the more intense therapies very useful, but they usually entail going over the very raw experiences and reliving/retelling them, and I just don’t feel like I’m up to doing that.  Perhaps with time.

For now the best the VA has to offer is medication.   At first they gave me something to relieve my complaint that I couldn’t sleep (I guess I failed to leave out that the nightmares were the reason for that) and so I received a medication that was very good at helping me stay asleep.  But it made it impossible to wake from the nightmares, so that medication was a serious no-go all by itself.

So they added another one to help with the nightmares… except that they don’t have one that affects the actual nightmares.  They give me a blood-pressure medication so that I “will still have the nightmares, but your blood pressure won’t go up so you won’t care about the nightmare.”  So I still have the experiences every night, but the drug tries to take the terror out of it.  How well would your psyche handle that?

My psyche isn’t exactly in pristine condition.  Julie dragged me from the house to a choir/band concert at Caitlin’s middle school (same one Julie attended) a few weeks ago.  We sat in the very back (so I wasn’t surrounded by people) and I went through my regular (though probably not normal) habit of marking exit doors, high traffic areas, persons of note, etc.   I tried to act nonchalant with Julie and asked her if there was an exit at the end of one corridor and then questioning, “I must be turned around, how would I get from that door back to the car?”  I knew where I was, but wanted her to play out the escape path in her mind.  I’m sure she knew I was just being psychotic again.  :/

But if that wasn’t psychotic enough, as I was scanning the crowd and finding exits I suddenly found myself mentally crawling between seats involved in a gunfight with a group of masked attackers.  While everyone else was shuffling in and finding a seat, I was busy returning fire as I tried to push civilians toward some cover, apply pressure to an abdominal wound I took, make my way toward where I thought Caitlin might be on stage, and try to kill some mythical masked SOB with an AK-47.

Of course in real life I was sitting stiffly and starting to hyperventilate about the fact that I was in fact unarmed because I was in a school.  Julie could tell and just helped me breathe.  She takes good care of me like that.   My brain follows that track so frequently while I’m asleep that it easily falls into that pattern when I’m awake sometimes too.

So while the need for sleep is a biological fact of humanity, it is a psychological terror for me that bleeds into my life at inopportune times.   It might sound like a simple phrase, but when I add to our family prayer, “please help us all sleep well” you can understand how selfish a request that is.   I plead for it every night.

I wish upon the rest of you sweet dreams as well.