soldier-tears-gettyBefore I begin this blog I want to sincerely thank all of you who are following our book and providing feedback. I am well aware of the time it takes to stay aligned with a variety of online communication. It is humbling to know that individuals and families are finding our website helpful, and we are truly grateful for your comments.

Michelle Rosenthal, a reader of our April 15th blog, commented that she liked the last line:

If we send them, then we must mend them.” 

This has been our motto and theme throughout the book and certainly needs to be fully endorsed by our military, our country, our leaders, and our communities.  What was thoughtful about Michelle’s comment was her last line where she asked, “How do we mend them in a way that does not inappropriately bend them?”  And that, Michelle, is a billion dollar question – one for which I do not have a tangible response.  Yet, I can say this, the solution lies in making a difference – one individual at a time. Healing does not fit every military experience or veteran the same.  There are far too many variables. However, a few constants will be required: relentless determination to getting better, standing up and trying again even when staying down seems much easier, support from a variety of people (family, friends, the VA…), and most of all a deep feeling of being loved and worthy of love, when at times we feel quite alone.

For those of us living with someone suffering from PTSD, love does not mean accepting or condoning inappropriate behavior from either person. It means putting proper boundaries on our actions, without battering each other.  It means that we love and trust each other enough to know that we can get better and want to get better.  It means we believe the relationship is worth the effort, the pain, and frustration as long as there is progress toward emotional healing.  And in the end, the mending will more than likely require a bit of bending.  Perhaps it is only through the “bending” that genuine healing can take place.  The key word in Michelle’s comment was “appropriate” bending.  In a heavy wind a tree bends – that is a good thing.  I’m simply trusting that the tree will sustain the storm because its roots are deep and firmly grounded in an earth that holds tightly to its foundation.  Hopefully, if our spiritual and emotional roots are deep and far reaching, perhaps we can and will sustain the storm within.  Nothing is impossible.

Comments

One Response to “Reflecting on a Comment”

  1. Mike MacDonald on April 27th, 2009 9:05 am

    For years and years I would constantly be told to “let go” or “forget about it” when it came to Vietnam. No one understood that I had relentlessly tried that but it wouldn’t let go of me. For many years, I managed to drink away many of the symptoms; unfortunately that worked too well and I became addicted to my ‘medication’. I learned why that worked and was told by Dr Palmer that if he could prescribe any one medication that we both knew worked, it was alcohol, “but the side affects are a bitch” he said.
    So, since 1996 I have been soberly searching for ways to handle the distress and disjointed aberrations of PTSD. As a result I have found that immediate change of venue, (physical location) and distraction helps me to regain some steadiness. My second reliance is my dog, Babe, an Airedale that notices everything. She has awaken me during nightmares and licks me in the middle of the night if she detects something not right with me. In exchange, I rely on her to know the safety of my surroundings. When she is calm there is no need for me to be alarmed. Finally, I rely heavily on the parting words of Dr Palmer when I left the PTSD clinic: “Because of what you’ve been through you must believe that you don’t have answer to anyone, at any time, for any thing, forever”. I do believe this. He also told me that I can not allow myself to feel intimadated by anything or anyone and that if I do, I am in trouble. That has been a very useful guide. Bottom line to what I started out saying is that I don’t give a shit what anyone thinks of me or what I should or should not do. This is the most liberating thought I possess.
    Mike MacDonald, Co C 2/28 Inf Black Lions, 1st Inf. Vietnam ’68-’69
    PS: I continue to sing the praises of your book to anyone who will listen. You two have made a tremendous contribution to veterans and their families.