They were the best of times, they were the worst of times. That classic phrase is our reality of living in the shadows of combat ptsd. My husband served with the First Air Calvary during the height of the Vietnam conflict in 1967-1968. For 23 years he's been my lover and my best friend. He's been my rock, my protector, and my survivor. For many, many years, the suffering we endured didn't even have a name. His "normal" reactions were hard to understand. For far too long, I was walking blindfolded in the dark.
   I didn't understand the fight or flight response. Or know that soldiers were trained by the military to always choose to fight. I didn't understand that his survivor skills kept him alive in combat or why he still clung to them to today. For 23 years, I didn't understand his rage. Deep down, even if I fought it or denied it, part of me believed it was my fault. Today I know that trauma pisses people off. I know that I didn't cause it, I can't cure it, and I can't control it. The greatest lesson I learned recently is "Behind the face of anger lies either pain or fear." I didn't understand that FEAR was the trigger that controlled him. Today I try to see the wounded soldier that stands in front of me. Today I try to recognize and acknowledge his pain and his fear.
   During the worst of times, I was walking on eggshells. Sometimes my loving husband seemed like a walking time bomb waiting to explode. I didn't understand how that fear transported him back to a different time zone. That all his senses told him he was back in Vietnam. I didn't understand that fear made him relive the war all over again in our home. I didn't understand his fear of losing control, of himself, or the world around him. Control was something he lost in the war. It hasn't always been easy to watch him live in fear of things he can't control. I didn't understand the fear of loss, the fear of abandonment, the fear of isolation, or the fear of rejection that contributed to his symptoms of ptsd.
  I didn't understand why he couldn't trust. Even me, especially me. Even after I learned that everything he ever trusted in life was lost to him in the war. Including the ability to ever fully trust again. To ever feel secure again. That included feeling secure in my love. I know now that trigger of fear is chasing him like a bullet. It's better to have loved and lost than to have never loved at all is not a concept a traumatized war veteran can grasp. There are two rules to war: Rule #1. People die. Rule #2. You can't change rule #1.   People die. Death is permeant. Even the threat of the death of love itself triggers that fear and the post traumatic response. I know now, in the worst or times, when I didn't understand, I wasn't very trustworthy. I know now why he couldn't feel secure in my love.
  I didn't understand that seeing me or the children either sick or crying reminded him of his buddies wounded on a battlefield. At times I believed that we weren't allowed to be sick or in pain. I didn't realize that feelings of helplessness and horror ,which traumatized him to begin with , still caused a war within himself today. I didn't understand the don't talk, don't think, don't feel rule that seemed to apply in our household. I didn't understand that he was protecting himself from the pain and fear in the aftermath of war. I didn't understand the guilt he endured when he felt like the cause of all our suffering. Because there was a lot of blame in our household, flying in all  directions. More importantly, I didn't understand that I was guilty of enforcing those rules as well. That by not understanding, and denying his emotions, I was preventing him from healing. Today I can let him have those emotions, and know we will survive.
   There was a time when even asking a simple question could push his buttons. The kids asking "Can I go to the Mall?", took on a life of it's own. FEAR is the initial reaction that sets off his fight or flight response. Today I know that his fears are reality based. A reality I didn't share with him. What if we leave the house and don't come back home alive like his buddies in the war? I'm sorry I didn't accept or understand his reality. I'm sorry I didn't always respect his pain and fear.
  Today I know that traumatized people develop very sensitive control/manipulation detectors because the trauma defined their lives. Today I realize that we are CO survivors of trauma. Our survivor skills have bound us together, and torn us apart. Today I know that I have developed unhealthy survivor skills myself as I tried to control his ptsd. There's a lot of pain and fear in the aftermath of war. I didn't realize that pain and fear were the triggers that controlled me too .I didn't realize that behind my angry face lies pain and fear as well.  And by trying to control his symptoms, in reality, I was trying to protect myself from the pain and fear post traumatic caused. Today I understand feelings of helplessness. It doesn't scare me anymore. Today I can relate to feelings of guilt, for the secondary trauma he suffered when I didn't understand.
   Like my brave soldier, I can see the good that has come from facing ptsd. I am a better person because of the struggles we've shared. Today I know that love and compassion heal. Together, we are on that road to recovery. We are learning to face our fears. We are learning to live, and to laugh again. Sometimes, we can laugh in the face of our fears. Progress. There is hope and happiness in the aftermath of war.
  Though there is fear of loss behind it, my soldier loves with a passion most "normal" folks will never know. Life and death were given new meaning in the war. He holds tight to those survivor skills. They helped him survive. They kept him alive. After all these years, he's finally proud of his service to our country. He accepts his ptsd as a part of his life altering experience. Today, he is able to see the good that has come from it. Today we have a healthy balance in our lives, of the good memories, and the bad. We are learning to let go of the pain and fear of the past. Today there are more good days than bad.
  I too am learning to accept his ptsd, and trying to live the Serenity prayer.There are no more days of walking blindfolded in the dark.Today, I am enlightened. Acceptance, along with love and compassion, can heal the scars of war. We are both survivors, and there's nothing our love can't withstand. Even fear won't stand in our way. Our future is secure. I know with all certainty that I will love him through the best of times, and through the worst of times. We're on the right path now and we're looking forward to the journey. There is hope for recovery in the aftermath of war.
 Thank you my love, for sharing your life with me. Thank you for the love and compassion you've given to this lost soul. Thank you for helping me heal. I love you, with a passion only you could understand. We've already survived the worst of times. The best is yet to come!

 

A special thank you to Patience and Bob Mason. The pioneers in "Recovering from the War" that blazed the trail of healing.