First off, my inspiration for this blog post was initiated by reading another authors post about a relationship with a friend that passed away before her time, and the conversation that ensued between my wife and I. As I have stated before, I lost both of my parents to suicide. My Mom was first, I lost her at the age of 13. I have yet to completely wrap my head around that. I was told by my father after her death to lower a shoulder and power on. My desire in life is and has been to be a man. Not just any man but a power player. So I did as he told me and compartmentalized my grief and turned to face my next challenge. There were many, and I thought my job was to absorb them with as little outward expression of pain as possible. I was being hurt and the little boy inside me knew it. No pain, no gain right? Or how about, “Pain is weakness leaving your body?” All a false illusion of my bad-ass complex! Which was by proxy my Fathers bad-ass complex. Did I mention he was suffering from PTSD due to Vietnam? Begin mission impossible, making a 13 year old boy as tough as a Vietnam Veteran. Because that was my yard stick I intended on measuring myself with.
I believe I began a life of dual self images when my Mom died. On one hand I was a young boy trying to find my place and on the other a warrior in training. Through the rest of my life that little boy has never really gone away. I can summon that person almost at will. However, that child has become somewhat distorted by life events and trauma due to my burning desire to be this mountain of a man. I have always been competitive, fiercely so! As I got older and the stakes got higher, I realized that the person who would be willing to go farther toward the edge of no return would win. I have never appreciated playing the game, I am only interested in the win. I figured rules in games were made by people who didn’t like being dominated. The ends always justified the means. I began to live my life with that motto. I would go longer, farther, faster and harder than anyone I knew. Sounded like a recipe for success I thought. I was becoming a predator. Part of me loved it, I had a hunger for something. I needed to feed that hunger, so I descended into a world of violence seeking and self sacrifice in order to find that primitive essence of manhood.
I thought the more I hurt that child inside me the better my training for manhood was progressing. For some reason I was still scared sometimes of the situations I found myself in. Then I heard someone say that “Courage is not the absence of fear, but a measure of your actions in the face of fear.” Well that was perfect for me, I could justify my fear and force myself to face whatever came along. Not just face it, but seek fear and force myself to engage and conquer it. The little boy continued to suffer. At 19 years old I was getting to be a handful for most anyone to handle. I had been in the far east for over a year and had seen and done some pretty intense things. I mean intense even by my definition of the term. I came home on leave and my Father being who he was recognized that edge I was carrying. He got drunk and decided to test the waters with me. Sadly, even though he had abused me and my Mom for years, I delivered a beating that the UFC would have been proud of. A beating that would haunt me for years. Hero’s are hero’s for a reason, it is very inappropriate to engage your hero in an act of violence! I can’t possibly describe what that did to the child inside me.
I think my Father thought I got lucky in the exchange. He didn’t realize I had been planning that beat down since the days of him torturing me with the notion that he was friends with the monsters that lived under my bed and he could ask them to attack me if he wanted to. I spent countless nights laying completely still and quiet believing that the monsters wouldn’t get me if I didn’t give away my position. That to me was weakness and I wanted to purge myself of it. Due to his alcoholism, we would face each other several more times with similar results all the way up to 1995 when he took his own life. Now that my yardstick had fallen, I needed a new goal. I found that goal many times in the form of an overconfident and undertrained individual looking to prove his worth. I was a predator, no question!
As I have matured beyond those days I have realized that I wasn’t really a man, but a childish predator. I had totally missed the mark! Was I mean? Certainly! Was I capable of hurting people? Absolutely! Was I damaged? Without a doubt! Its time to transcend the realm of predator and move on to the original goal of manhood. PTSD was my wake up call. What will be your wake up call? Think your a bad-ass? Be glad we didn’t meet a few years ago, I would have considered you an obstacle to be conquered. Now my goal is to heal and nurture my inner child and rest my inner predator. If you are willing I would like to help you do the same. A real man is neither a child nor a predator. I have come to realize, its somewhere in the middle. I am still capable of both, I can laugh and giggle with my wife like a little boy, and take out an intruder with absolute bad intentions.
Pain is an indication of something that requires your attention. A little pain is a normal part of growth. Intense pain is an indication of damage. Results of intense physical pain usually have visible scars. If the scars of emotional pain become visible then it is time to look inward and evaluate your condition. I am beyond the stigma, no one can tell me I am weak. I have scars from emotional trauma and I am so relieved to finally know what it is. I can use that same determination to push things to the edge for a greater purpose. Finally embracing my dream of manhood. Are you ready to make that claim? If so, lets bring about change together and bring others along as we go. Stigma meet my inner predator!
Jason
OperationPTSD
Monday, October 26, 2009
Monday, October 12, 2009
Moved to a new location
Due to the overwhelming response and operational commitments I will be posting all further posts at http://www.operationptsd.com/ starting November 11th. Thank you so much for your interest in my opinions and perspective. It is a great privilege to be in a position to advocate and educate on the topic of PTSD. The website is up if you want to stop by and sign up as a member.
OperationPTSD
OperationPTSD
Wednesday, October 7, 2009
Cadence.
Recovery is not always a daily victory. I try to maintain a positive attitude to be a beacon of light for my fellow Veterans to follow. Today I was scheduled for a PTSD assessment for a VA rating. As excited as I am to be pushing forward in the battle against PTSD, this appointment totally wiped my energy reserves. My last post was about making a plan for each day and having the courage to follow it. Okay, my fellow PTSD Vets here I am following my plan. I decided today was the day I would make another blog entry. I am struggling to see through the fog and feel like I am swimming against a rip-tide. I always wanted to know that the people I followed actually had the guts to walk the path they asked me to walk. Step by step I will move forward.
We all remember learning to march in formation. For me it was at Great Lakes Recruit Training Command in March of 1988. Tired as all hell and cold to the bone I just wanted to lay down and rest. That was not the plan. We were going to learn how to stay in step with the cadence if it killed us and our Company Commander. We were a bunch of civilian knot heads struggling to push our square minds through a round hole or porthole as the case was. I loved to hear that cadence called. It made me want to march. I still love to hear it and every time I do, I return to boot camp and that day in my mind. As we learned to march to the cadence and got good at it, we started adding a little flair to it. A stomp and drag,
or maybe an "eyes right" as we passed the female cadets. Little by little that began to build a camaraderie between the men of company 911.
On days like today I refer back to that cadence. I don't want to march forward. I want to lay on my ass and do nothing. I can't allow it, PTSD is ravaging my fellow Veterans. So I call an internal cadence and I march. How many of my brothers will die today? I can't stop them all, but I won't be sitting on my ass while it happens. The doctor I saw today was pointing out the fact that we find our identities based upon what we do. He said if he couldn't be a doctor then he would be lost. I can relate, when I got out of the Navy I was lost. If I couldn't be a squid, then what was I?
I have tried to be so many things, some I was pretty good at and others not so good.
I was a corrections officer, I liked the physical conflicts. I hated the fact that these people never got to go home. I know they were convicts but that doesn't make them any less human. I was conflicted, they deserved a beating in some aspects and deserved to be treated like people at the same time. I quit!
Then came retail sales, I am so glad I did this. I found that I can't stand dealing with the public, but since it was Western Auto I learned all about cars. I still do all of my own mechanic work. Yet again I quit! Had a few more automotive service and sales jobs and decided maybe retail wasn't my game.
I started my own construction business. I guess at first it was more destruction than construction, but I learned quick. By the end of my run at this field I was doing tile and stone in multi-million dollar homes in south Tulsa. Good money, hard work and a drug habit to boot! And yep you guessed it, I quit!
So I had the bright idea of going to truck driving school. People have a total misconception of truckers. It takes a special breed to drive a truck. I learned to drive, back and inspect everything concerning a truck. I was a safe and prompt truck driver. No accidents, no incidents, runs, errors, or drips. I hated it. I didn't like the isolation, I wanted to be in a team environment. Before I could quit this career I was injured on the job. On April 18, 2008 I was rolling a compressed argon cylinder and the bottom of the cylinder slipped on the concrete floor. I attempted to man up and hold on, and as a result I destroyed my right shoulder.
Game over!
I have had two surgeries to correct the problem, but I am left with only a partially useful joint. I was so lost and confused about who I was and what I was supposed to do. Until one night I decided to get on Twitter. I met Mac McPherson an Army Vet with PTSD. He saw my Twitter name was OperationPTSD and reached out to me. That was about a month ago, and I now realize what I am supposed to be doing. I am supposed to be calling cadence for my fellow PTSD Vets. I used to watch the foot steps of the guy in front of me, I would just get lost in the cadence and concentrate on his steps. Before I knew it, we were at our destination. I am asking you Veterans to fall into step and begin a march toward healing. Before we know it we will all arrive at our destination.
OperationPTSD
We all remember learning to march in formation. For me it was at Great Lakes Recruit Training Command in March of 1988. Tired as all hell and cold to the bone I just wanted to lay down and rest. That was not the plan. We were going to learn how to stay in step with the cadence if it killed us and our Company Commander. We were a bunch of civilian knot heads struggling to push our square minds through a round hole or porthole as the case was. I loved to hear that cadence called. It made me want to march. I still love to hear it and every time I do, I return to boot camp and that day in my mind. As we learned to march to the cadence and got good at it, we started adding a little flair to it. A stomp and drag,
or maybe an "eyes right" as we passed the female cadets. Little by little that began to build a camaraderie between the men of company 911.
On days like today I refer back to that cadence. I don't want to march forward. I want to lay on my ass and do nothing. I can't allow it, PTSD is ravaging my fellow Veterans. So I call an internal cadence and I march. How many of my brothers will die today? I can't stop them all, but I won't be sitting on my ass while it happens. The doctor I saw today was pointing out the fact that we find our identities based upon what we do. He said if he couldn't be a doctor then he would be lost. I can relate, when I got out of the Navy I was lost. If I couldn't be a squid, then what was I?
I have tried to be so many things, some I was pretty good at and others not so good.
I was a corrections officer, I liked the physical conflicts. I hated the fact that these people never got to go home. I know they were convicts but that doesn't make them any less human. I was conflicted, they deserved a beating in some aspects and deserved to be treated like people at the same time. I quit!
Then came retail sales, I am so glad I did this. I found that I can't stand dealing with the public, but since it was Western Auto I learned all about cars. I still do all of my own mechanic work. Yet again I quit! Had a few more automotive service and sales jobs and decided maybe retail wasn't my game.
I started my own construction business. I guess at first it was more destruction than construction, but I learned quick. By the end of my run at this field I was doing tile and stone in multi-million dollar homes in south Tulsa. Good money, hard work and a drug habit to boot! And yep you guessed it, I quit!
So I had the bright idea of going to truck driving school. People have a total misconception of truckers. It takes a special breed to drive a truck. I learned to drive, back and inspect everything concerning a truck. I was a safe and prompt truck driver. No accidents, no incidents, runs, errors, or drips. I hated it. I didn't like the isolation, I wanted to be in a team environment. Before I could quit this career I was injured on the job. On April 18, 2008 I was rolling a compressed argon cylinder and the bottom of the cylinder slipped on the concrete floor. I attempted to man up and hold on, and as a result I destroyed my right shoulder.
Game over!
I have had two surgeries to correct the problem, but I am left with only a partially useful joint. I was so lost and confused about who I was and what I was supposed to do. Until one night I decided to get on Twitter. I met Mac McPherson an Army Vet with PTSD. He saw my Twitter name was OperationPTSD and reached out to me. That was about a month ago, and I now realize what I am supposed to be doing. I am supposed to be calling cadence for my fellow PTSD Vets. I used to watch the foot steps of the guy in front of me, I would just get lost in the cadence and concentrate on his steps. Before I knew it, we were at our destination. I am asking you Veterans to fall into step and begin a march toward healing. Before we know it we will all arrive at our destination.
OperationPTSD
Monday, October 5, 2009
The Enemy or is it The In me?
After attending a VA group therapy session for PTSD Veterans from OIF and OEF. I realized what a lack of basic PTSD knowledge exists among the Veterans suffering from PTSD. Knowledge is key when attempting to engage any problem. A primary element in any military operation is intelligence. You must know the location, and scale of the enemy you intend to engage. I sat among 5 young men ranging in age from 25 to 29. They were all of above average intelligence, but clearly not aware of the effects of PTSD as an illness. Why is the VA not doing more to educate these Veterans? After sitting quietly and observing them for about thirty minutes and listening to them tell stories of suffering from rage, followed by depression and then turning to alcohol or other substances to cope.
I started to speak. I was a little angry myself, angry that these men had been coming to this same meeting every two weeks for months on end to rehash the same old tired stories from the week previous. They had learned nothing to help them battle back against the cause of their constant cycles. I asked if they knew the definition of insanity. I explained that doing the same thing over and over and expecting a different result was insanity. They seemed shocked that I would take a firm tone with them and offer something other than a victims perspective. I asked if they had any ideas about how to deal with everyday issues they faced. No response! I saw warriors staring at the floor, lost and without any idea of where to start.
When I was on active duty, the Navy always had a "Plan of the day" and it provided everyone with a specific set of goals to accomplish for that day. What a novel idea!
Setting a goal and working toward it. One of the main issues they had been dealing with was the lack of clarity in the morning to decide what to do with themselves all day. They would end up sleeping half the day and then be angry with themselves for not being successful. Then get depressed and turn to substance abuse to cope. Rinse and repeat.
I was not shocked to hear this, because I have done it for years. And all the while under VA care for PTSD. Imagine that! I told them it would continue until THEY decided to do something different. I suggested they sit down and write themselves a "Plan of the day" so that they could have a guideline to follow. Wake up and follow the plan! If you can read you can accomplish goals by applying this very basic technique. Accomplishments were the one bright spot in our conversation. The only time I saw a twinkle in the eyes of these men was while they described an accomplishment. They all said that periods in their lives when things seemed better was triggered by some sort of success.
Okay, that being said, lets formulate a plan to bring success. Starting with goal setting. Most people don't plan to fail, they fail to plan. One very simple way to reverse the negative cycle. Make a plan. Train your mind and your ass will follow!
Don't plan to conquer the world, make a plan you are comfortable executing. Do it everyday and gain momentum. Allow yourself room to make mistakes and allow your momentum to propel you to greater goals. Feed off of success and not failure.
Education is key. I saw some enthusiasm at the end of the meeting and they asked if I planned on returning for the next meeting. I told them I would put it in my "Plan of the day." In a very brief amount of time we had come up with a viable solution to a very big issue. Now my main problem is outreach. I am limited to the amount of people I can educate because I have a capital issue. I need the funds to start a much, much larger outreach. I need your help. I need to educate more people and motivate them to send more people to me for that education. I am living off of disability for a shoulder injury that has ended my ability to earn a living the way I always have. So I decided to change my plan from building things to rebuilding lives.
Help me help other Veterans and their families. My wife has agreed to shift her career focus to helping the wives and family members of Veterans with PTSD. With your support we can set larger goals and gain momentum. Corporate money is the goal but that will be accomplished only with a track record. For now individual support is crucial. The troops need to shift their focus from the "Enemy to the In Me." Education will give them the tools to make that shift. If you wish to make a donation, contact me at the link provided in the "About Me" section. Or if you know of a place I could go and speak to a large group of Veterans I would be happy to come and do that!
Thank You America,
IamOperationPTSD
I started to speak. I was a little angry myself, angry that these men had been coming to this same meeting every two weeks for months on end to rehash the same old tired stories from the week previous. They had learned nothing to help them battle back against the cause of their constant cycles. I asked if they knew the definition of insanity. I explained that doing the same thing over and over and expecting a different result was insanity. They seemed shocked that I would take a firm tone with them and offer something other than a victims perspective. I asked if they had any ideas about how to deal with everyday issues they faced. No response! I saw warriors staring at the floor, lost and without any idea of where to start.
When I was on active duty, the Navy always had a "Plan of the day" and it provided everyone with a specific set of goals to accomplish for that day. What a novel idea!
Setting a goal and working toward it. One of the main issues they had been dealing with was the lack of clarity in the morning to decide what to do with themselves all day. They would end up sleeping half the day and then be angry with themselves for not being successful. Then get depressed and turn to substance abuse to cope. Rinse and repeat.
I was not shocked to hear this, because I have done it for years. And all the while under VA care for PTSD. Imagine that! I told them it would continue until THEY decided to do something different. I suggested they sit down and write themselves a "Plan of the day" so that they could have a guideline to follow. Wake up and follow the plan! If you can read you can accomplish goals by applying this very basic technique. Accomplishments were the one bright spot in our conversation. The only time I saw a twinkle in the eyes of these men was while they described an accomplishment. They all said that periods in their lives when things seemed better was triggered by some sort of success.
Okay, that being said, lets formulate a plan to bring success. Starting with goal setting. Most people don't plan to fail, they fail to plan. One very simple way to reverse the negative cycle. Make a plan. Train your mind and your ass will follow!
Don't plan to conquer the world, make a plan you are comfortable executing. Do it everyday and gain momentum. Allow yourself room to make mistakes and allow your momentum to propel you to greater goals. Feed off of success and not failure.
Education is key. I saw some enthusiasm at the end of the meeting and they asked if I planned on returning for the next meeting. I told them I would put it in my "Plan of the day." In a very brief amount of time we had come up with a viable solution to a very big issue. Now my main problem is outreach. I am limited to the amount of people I can educate because I have a capital issue. I need the funds to start a much, much larger outreach. I need your help. I need to educate more people and motivate them to send more people to me for that education. I am living off of disability for a shoulder injury that has ended my ability to earn a living the way I always have. So I decided to change my plan from building things to rebuilding lives.
Help me help other Veterans and their families. My wife has agreed to shift her career focus to helping the wives and family members of Veterans with PTSD. With your support we can set larger goals and gain momentum. Corporate money is the goal but that will be accomplished only with a track record. For now individual support is crucial. The troops need to shift their focus from the "Enemy to the In Me." Education will give them the tools to make that shift. If you wish to make a donation, contact me at the link provided in the "About Me" section. Or if you know of a place I could go and speak to a large group of Veterans I would be happy to come and do that!
Thank You America,
IamOperationPTSD
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