by Janet J. Seahorn, Ph.D

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Such a simple phrase stated on too few occasions by too few individuals.

During our travels we get opportunities to visit some special places that offer discounts or free admission to veterans. Most of the time people are pretty gracious. Then there are those situations where the “keeper of the gate” are, in my opinion, just plain ignorant on how to treat veterans.

 We have heard stories over and over again on this topic. Some are quite sad, while others are pretty darn funny. On one recent occasion we were visiting a National Park. Tony was asked to show the gatekeeper his driver’s license along with other proof of identity. He had already given her his National Park’s Access Pass for Disabled Vets along with his VA Identification card with picture and signature. Animals with embedded ID’s aren’t scrutinized as rigidly. After all the ID confirmations, she could clearly see he had more than provided adequate identification, yet she still insisted on seeing his driver’s license and two other forms of identification with his signature on it.

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            This scenario that was absurdly comical. Yet, another part was perfectly annoying. After we jumped through the “gate keeper’s” hoops, we moved forward. Only later after driving several miles down the road did I think of the perfect reply. The next time (and there will be a next time) we’re asked to wiggle through silly bureaucratic hoops, when they are finished with their requests, I am going to respond kindly with the following:

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You really meant to say: “Welcome Home and Thank You for Your Service.”

 

 

I must admit it will be a bit amusing to see the reaction.

Memorial Day is a time to give recognition and say a prayer of gratitude for all who have paid the supreme sacrifice for serving their country. We should never forget.

 memorial-day-2011All our military personnel and veterans are our quiet role models and noble heroes.

These deserve our respect.

 FREEDOM IS NOT FREE.

by Janet J. Seahorn, Ph.D

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        A few weeks ago, Tony and I spent several days in the Grand Strand area of Myrtle Beach, South Carolina.

It was Military Appreciation Week.

Due to the special invitation of Retired Army Officer Sinclair Swan, we had the privilege of working with two local groups of military veterans, their spouses and family members.

             During the day we met with several group members and their spouses. It was an amazing opportunity to not just speak to the individuals in attendance, but to listen and hear their stories as well.  Each account reminded us of the enormous amount of courage it takes to get up each day, live it as best one can, and give back to others.

            Two of the veterans have adult children who experienced traumatic car accidents which left them with severe head injuries. These vets are now the primary care givers. Not only have they endured their own trauma; now they must bear the suffering of their children. Several are challenged by serious health issues for them and/or their spouses.

           Yet, they continue with great effort and fortitude to move forward. It is a humbling gift to have others shares their trauma and heartbreaks.

          Contrary to some public perspective, most of these vets have lived and are living successful and productive lives. In spite of their demons, they have deliberately chosen to not let the past destroy the future. They have elected to make a difference for themselves, their families, their communities. Sinclair Swan meets every Saturday with vets who need help in filling out government forms to obtain services. Each has made significant contributions to serving others.

            One individual wrote a special poem many years ago. Upon returning from Vietnam he described how he became homeless, sleeping in parks, and getting his “fixes” when needed. Then, one day, another homeless friend suggested they go to a church soup kitchen for a meal. It was there that a miracle occurred and his life changed. He got his faith back, his spirit, and eventually his life. At that time he wrote a poem which he has allowed us to share with you.

 A Poem

By William Huffaker

 

If I only had one wish to make,

but that wish would surely come true.

I’d wish that I would be given the light

to turn the darkest sky into blue.

 

Now to you this may sound

like my mythical dreams

have blurred my vision

so that this only seems

to be an illusion

of hopeful abound,

and that my wish

I’ve not really found.

 

But I’ve found it I tell you.

As I’ve sought it in truth.

And I know now this answers’

been here since my youth.

But I just couldn’t see

through the clouds in my mind.

Through delusions of grandeur

I just couldn’t find.

This fabulous dream

that just had to be,

waiting and knowing,

someday that I’d see.

 

And even though skies

still sometimes turn black.

And visions of grandeur

still sometimes come back.

I know that there’s light

in the darkest of night.

And the tenderest loves

never far from my sight.

 

And now that my dream

has become something true.

If I had one more wish,

I would wish it for you.

by Janet J. Seahorn, Ph.D

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We reside within our own wondrous environment, within ourselves, and wander about the internal hills and valleys everyday. If we are lucky and have lived a full life, the landscape of our inner country is filled with incredible diversity.

Mountains and valleys only have depth based on the extent of our experiences. The brilliant hues of colors cannot be painted on an empty canvas. Nope, such vividness is achieved through a great many life events: joy, grief, humility, arrogance, chaos, serenity… all mixed throughout the years.

Yet, through all our trials and triumphs, with a bit of luck, our inner artist refuses to put down the paintbrush. Each day offers elements to add to the internal country; an element that increases the vastness of the spirit. Within ourselves we wander with purpose and courage. Trauma takes a toll which only hope can overcome.

We become our best selves not because we lived a safe, comfortable life, but because we have fully lived. There is a huge difference between a life of ease and one of worth. The first took little effort; the latter required a deep sense of duty, sacrifice, relentless perseverance, and sometimes tears. All of these make a life of worth a special gift to the world. A gift that lives far beyond our short existence.

Which life have your lived so far. Which life are you living now? What would your canvas look like? Certainly, like any remarkable work of art, it would have its dark contrasts; yet, I hope it would also contain sweeps of light, touches of brilliant colors, and areas of tender hues which embrace a sense of peace and serenity.

by Janet J. Seahorn, Ph.D

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 Last week we did a ten day road trip through Colorado, New Mexico, Arizona, and Utah. One place we visited was Monument Valley, a beautiful, hauntingly desolate landscape of red sandstone formations rising up from the thirsty valley floor. This region is a sacred Indian worship site belonging to the Dine tribe. Many sacred locations remain private for ceremonies held by Navajo tribes along the Arizona & Utah border.

            Although the valley has been open to the public for decades, I still felt reluctant to enter its sacred domain. It felt somehow like I was stealing a small part of the land’s spirit by just being there. This ground is special to the Navajo Nation, a culture that outsiders can never fully understand or appreciate. The beauty of the land itself is breathtaking. The ancient spirits rustle in the wind.

            John Ford was the first major director to film his movies in the Monument Valley area. The film, Stagecoach, starring John Wayne won an academy award. Many more successful movies followed, all of which brought money and jobs along with more people to the valley. The many films with their striking scenery contributed to a rise in visitors who wanted to view the landscape first hand.

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            The swarms of tourists came like bees flocking to a new food supply. Only these human insects did not make honey, or contribute to the well-being of the people beyond their money. This is what made me begin thinking again of PTSD. So many common experiences lead me to reflect again on PTSD and its relationship to man’s survival. It is deceptively easy to steal a land or a human spirit. It is a simple recipe – simply take his land; take his dignity; take his humanity, and take his hope. Take his happy memories and replace them with tears and broken lives. By all of the taking, eventually we take his reason for living; we leave behind mangled hearts and broken spirits.

            Stealing Spirits is a tragic feat. Preserving them is as necessary as breathing. Each heartbeat is a promise of a new beginning, a new hope, a new and fresh tomorrow – for Spirits are the keepers of our past, our present and our future contributions. They can be shared and nurtured, but they must never be stolen.

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by Janet J. Seahorn, Ph.D

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Yikes! When we read about the Golden Years they don’t always seem so wonderful. Most of you have read that old saying, “aging is not for sissies”, and that cliché was written for the average person who has a lighter set of luggage to carry. For veterans and their families, many don’t carry bags of crap; they have a huge trunk of it, and it doesn’t seem to get lighter with time.

 

For almost two years I have resisted writing this particular blog. Why? Because it scares the #### out of me. I admit it; I am a sissy for growing old. Not because I am afraid of needing an expensive face lift, or having to wear fancy old people diapers. OK, those things do concern me, but they aren’t nearly as distressing as the more intrusive symptoms of age. Now, add the effects of living a lifetime suffering with PTSD or living with someone with PTSD and the image gets uglier. Even strong, rose colored glasses haven’t been able to calm my apprehension. Therefore, it is time I write what I know, and have known for a very long time. Aging with trauma is not for fragile minds or bodies.

 

Here are some facts that have been around for a long time regarding aging and PTSD.

  • People with type 2 diabetes who also suffer with PTSD face a 36% higher risk of going blind or developing kidney disease (American Diabetes Association).
  • Heart problems and high blood pressure are more common — DUH!
  • Mood disorders such as depression are more prevalent if one has not sought help. Double Duh!
  • Depression increases the risk of heart attack by 25% (VFW, March 2011)
  • Alzheimer and/or dementia increases.

 

We have long known that PTSD affects the body and the brain, so it is not a big aha that any of these conditions gets worse with age since the body’s immune system is weakened and not as robust as when we are young. In giving all of these amusing statistics, I can’t stop without putting in some actions that will prolong the drought of age. Again, we all know these but sometimes do little to practice what know. Call it lack of well-power or procrastination, the two twins of sin.

 

  • 1. Exercise everyday. This promotes blood flow to the brain which is pretty darn important for keeping the feeble thinking and crippled rascals at bay. It also increases muscle mass and strengthens bones keeping us from being in a wheel-chair instead of on a ski lift.
  • 2. Watch what you eat… “What’s on your plate determines your fate.” Damn, I love a warm, gooey chocolate donut, a double scoop of ice cream, or a basket of salty French fires, and they seem to love me, my thighs and clotted arteries just as much.
  • 3. Drink lots of water. It is the best purifier of the body and removes all that excess material, especially sodium that helps lower heart pressure.
  • 4. Practice deep breathing and meditation. Lots of research shows how these actions promote a sense of well-being… only problem is my lack of concentration. Practice makes this better and really does improve the entire mind/body.
  • 5. Add more fiber to your diet. J I don’t think I need to go into detail with this one, but fiber literally will help lighten our trunks of crap.
  • 6. Get plenty of sleep. Nothing can take the place of rest for promoting good health.
  • 7. At least I can still have my lattes and tea… at least four hours before bedtime.
  • 8. Oh, and don’t forget laughter, it is the best of all exercises for our mind, our bodies, and our hearts.

 

Aging is inevitable, but aging with grace and good health will take courage, will-power, and making good personal choices.

 by Janet J. Seahorn, Ph.D

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            There are so many ways to experience trauma in the world.  Combat is just one, but it is one where the impact keeps on giving and giving.  For many whose painful experiences occurred once or twice, many seem to be able to get up in the morning and feel grateful for the opportunity to have a fresh new start.  The sun shines brighter and the colors of the world are more intense, even if some nights are seemingly unbearable.

 

            The difference between a one time experience and multiple traumatic occurrences is the cumulative effect. The more often an individual faces harrowing life events, the more likely the brain is going to be influenced by those events. Because the brain is sculpted by experience, everything good or bad can make a difference.

 

We become who we are due to our genetic foundations and our environment. If that environment is nurturing, safe and challenging in a positive way, we have a greater chance to develop into self-confident, cheerful people. If, however, that environment is saturated with violent, unpredictable and dangerous circumstances the brain molds itself into a survival organism in order to hopefully sustain the trauma. The important thing to remember, however, is the age when a trauma occurs.  Earlier is not always better.

 

We know the brain is not fully developed until the mid twenties (especially in males). So what do you think multiple combat deployments do to a developing brain?  For many young men and women the outcome is pretty darn complicated. Connections within the brain are changed. Neurotransmitters, those chemicals in the brain that allow us to feel pleasure, prepare for fight or flight, suffer with depression, and other human experiences are changed. The physical organism that controls our behavior is changed. Trauma is serious business with serious effects for many.

 

            For warriors returning from combat, the world is not as bright and welcoming as it was before war.  Sense of identity is changed… you leave as a somewhat naive youngster and return as an adult aged beyond your years.  PTSD is like having a gray veil placed over the sun. Sure it still shines. Yes, you can feel the warmth of its rays.

 

Yet, nothing is the same as before you left. Healing from trauma can be the unveiling of the sun. The way to remove that shroud or at least make it lighter is to seek help as soon as possible. You have the strength to Uncover the Sun. More importantly, you deserve to have the full brightness of its rays lighting your days and warming your heart.

by Janet J. Seahorn, Ph.D

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         No doubt about it, PTSD is a very Wicked ProblemWicked Problems, by definition, are those dilemmas that cannot be solved easily by using a typical approach. Anyone living with traumatic stress, especially those pressures caused by combat, will attest to the challenges of trying to solve the predicament of moving through his/her life carrying the memories and phantoms of war.  If the solution was easy, it would have been found centuries ago.  Yet, here we are today, in 2011, and the Wicked Problem still exists. 

 

One of the Wicked Problems of trauma is surviving the depression that can be a part of the conflict. How does a person live with long-term depression that often becomes the new normal after battle? Constance Gibbons, one of our readers, wrote last week and shared how depression has been the new normal for many vets including her husband. After years of having it a part of their daily being, it becomes their after war identity. She stated: Another interesting aspect from those of us observers – spouses, et al – was that universally we noted the levels of sort of a baseline enthusiasm, whereas, the vet thought they were quite fine.  

 

            She explained further: As you continue to think of ‘depression’ as it may be portrayed by the vet, maybe think of a sense of resolution, unknowing acceptance, somewhere in a lower zonal level (between overconfidence and fear) from the years of living on the cusp of life and death, at a level of continuing risk so great that without the impact of the continuing penetration, after, into youthful vulnerability, it appears to those of us in observation to be baseline depression…where it is not to the vet; just an absence of heightened stimulation.  Wow, now how would anyone solve such a Problem?

 

            Veterans carry many Wicked Problems – ghosts of death and shocks of battle, memories that make if difficult to stay grounded in every day activities, and struggles to avoid the sleepless nights where staying awake is one way to keep the dreams of foreign battles from returning. New therapies and medications have helped lower the impact of PTSD but it has not solved the Problem. I read many blogs and articles relating combat PTSD to the trauma that the average person might experience. Things such as car accidents, rape, assault… all which are terrible and difficult to cope. Yet, these are hard to compare to combat where trauma occurs every day, often numerous times in a day. One of the biggest differences is besides being the prey, in combat you must also become the predator. Instead of being involved in one brutal injury or death, you may experience many.

 

            Fighting the Wicked Problems of war takes work. It requires listening to your gut feelings as well as how others around you perceive your behaviors. The good fight involves muffling the loud voices in the head long enough to examine realistic solutions. Perhaps there will be no absolute solution to PTSD, but every day there are warriors who conquer their demons and live full and meaningful lives. Wicked Problem you may remain, but you will not take more of a warrior’s life than you already stole. You will not win this internal war, even if you succeed in taking an emotional battle now and then. You see, Wicked PTSD Problem, in spite of your persistent, you are no match for the courage and willpower of a WARRIOR.

 

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by Janet J. Seahorn, Ph.D

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            There is a phrase that one hears every now and then, Hidden in Plain Sight. Four simple words that eloquently reveal the complexity of the impact of trauma on one’s mind, heart, and soul. We see the person; we look at the eyes, the body language, the being’s form. The suffering is present in plain sight for all to witness. Yet, few do, lacking the keen observational heart skills required to notice anguish.

 

            There are days I wish I didn’t see it – the faces of children battered by abuse and neglect; the adolescent’s depressive absorption into the ugly world of alcohol and drugs, and the veiled, but ever present ghosts of veterans, young and old carrying their memories of war. They haunt me as the world moves around their pain because it is hidden in plain sight.

 

            Much like ‘Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell’, we are a nation that prefers to maintain our equilibrium at all cost. We tend to be uncomfortable with sorrow even when it stands knocking at our front door asking only for recognition and a bit of compassion.

 

            We say we are a nation of empathy, yet often dismiss the humanity that exists in every person, especially those with whom we don’t agree. We argue we are intelligent, proficient thinkers, yet fight rigorously to disqualify any information that does not align with our personal paradigms/beliefs, whether true or misleading, without accurate evidence or data.

 

            The answers to our current and future problems are available, but for too many they are hidden in plain sight. It will take incredible courage to look into our own minds and hearts searching for what is right and true. It will take courage and honest self-reflection to heal the hidden wounds of the wounded, but it can be done. What lies before us does not need to consume us with fear or apprehension. When confronted, trauma and pain can be overcome and no longer hidden or carried alone.

 

 

               Light and sunshine are incredible healers.  

by Janet J. Seahorn, Ph.D

ptsd-veteran

           

         

The day was wet and overcast.

 

 

Upon arriving at the VA Hospital in Denver, we noticed how many patients seemed to be waiting for a bus or a taxi. Tony didn’t appear overly eager to walk into the building. Just looking at the entrance from the outside made him nervous. Walking inside was even worse. Almost forty years ago, this was the place he went to get help for the nightmares and panic attacks he was experiencing after returning from Vietnam. A young therapist at the time, untrained and unskilled in working with military personnel thoughtlessly told him to be grateful he made it home, and get on with his life. For thirty years, Tony never went back there… or anywhere else for assistance.

 

            Thank goodness we now have a verifiable diagnosis of these frightening memories; it is PTSD, and veteran centers across America are far more proficient in caring and supporting our wounded troops. Nevertheless, Tony had not been back to the Denver VA Hospital until Monday. We were going to talk with troops in the PTSD Unit of the hospital. This is a seven week program where vets get intensive counseling and treatment for their combat traumas. Today there are nineteen men attending the afternoon discussion. Humility can’t quite describe what we feel when we do such meetings.

 

          The majority of the vets were from the Vietnam era with the remaining members from Iraq and Afghanistan. I am pretty sure most people have little understanding of how much suffering each patient has survived; years of torment and silent screams. Each face revealed a unique map of torment. It appeared that every wrinkle held its own story, its own remembrance.  Yet, it was the younger warriors who made the most emotional impact. Perhaps this was because they reminded us of our sons. Or perhaps, we were too familiar with the pain they were experiencing and the long journey still ahead. Youthful faces were not yet lined with creases, though their eyes held an even deeper look of anguish. Yesterday’s combat field was not that far from today’s reality. Time had not yet put any distance from the rawness of war. Where several Vietnam vets were willing to talk, the young fighters stayed silent.

 

            At the end of the afternoon, one young marine told me how difficult it was for his mother to understand what was happening to him. He talked about how she just kept saying, “Why don’t you just get better? Why aren’t you back to your old self? You weren’t wounded, what is the matter with you?” and then he said sadly, “she told me, why can’t you just take a pill and be OK?” Then he quietly stated, “I’m trying’ I’m really trying, but I just can’t seem to forget, no matter how hard I try.”

 

            It was heartbreaking to watch him describe his situation. First he endured the many horrors of combat. When he came home, he had to endure the unawareness of the “ordinary” people.

 

            Next, there was the tall, thin youth who sat shifting in his chair seeking a more comfortable position. His back pain was obvious, especially when he cautiously walked bracing his weight with his cane. The sweetest, shyest smile spread over his face as he approached. What he requested was an extra copy of our book, Tears of a Warrior. He wanted to send it to his wife, hoping she might read it before he returned home from the hospital. Perhaps she would gain a better understanding of his condition. Perhaps, by understanding, she would be able to bear the years ahead. Perhaps together they might make it though the dark times still to be faced.

 

            More than ever, I am touched by the courage the young and the old veterans demonstrate.  A valor that leads them forwarded searching for a small bit of peace. By making that huge leap of faith to enter this seven week program, they lay bare their demons, hoping by exposure to the light these may leave, or at least become less frightening. For most, I believe this will be true.

 

            Like in combat, sometimes to survive, one must rush towards the enemy fighting with every ounce of power he/she possesses.  Healing requires that same force of power – rushing towards the demons, lets them know you no longer will run from them. When the hiding ends the healing begins.

 

Have a healthy and Happy Thanksgiving.

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  “Not yet, not yet.” These were the words a mother of a soldier who returned from war with severe, incapacitating PTSD composed to her son’s commanding officer almost forty years later. The mother wrote from a voice in heaven, as if her son had died, because in many ways he had – died emotionally; died cognitively; and died in spirit. Years had passed and she wanted his leader to know how much her son admired the man. How much he believed the officer had done everything possible to prevent the ambush that cost the lives of sixty-four troops. A dispensation of grace, for through her son’s stories, the mother realized how much trauma and burden the officer must be carrying from such a massive loss of life. 

 

            Even after four decades the pain and memories still persist as if the battle had just occurred. I am left to wonder how long a human being must or can endure such heartache. Being in charge of the lives of others is an incredible responsibility. A responsibility that makes losing those he led more devastating. One death would have been terrible, but sixty-four is beyond measure.

 

            We heard the story while attending a reunion of the Black Lions who served in Vietnam. The get-together was a relatively small gathering compared to many war reunions. Small because the Black Lions were an elite unit of soldiers who traveled light both in men and equipment. And smaller still because so many had died during the many jungle encounters with the enemy.

 

            Almost every survivor had a story and every attendee had an inner strength that somehow allowed him to live forward each day until now. I only hope that at this point, the time that remains in these old warrior lives can be lived with great joy, peace and personal forgiveness if needed. Our veterans deserve a bit of these gifts and so do their families. So when the mother wrote, “Not yet, not yet,” meaning… do not leave this earth too soon, the same words persist, “not yet, not yet”, the time for personal healing is now!

 

            Blessings and God Bless our vets young and old.

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