How have you dealt with PTSD?

I almost went to jail, I about did something stupid - at work, luckily I had a someone I trusted there to see there were some changes going on and he asked me to get some help. So, I ask for help and end up take the pharmacy home with me! I followed the directions on the medicine bottle until I started getting close to the max tape....I was on pills to fall asleep, to stay asleep, to not remember my dreams, taking 3 valiums to make it thru the workday, pills to make me relax and pills to control anger and rage.

I knew there had to be a change so I bought a brand new mountain bike and started riding, everywhere. Back and forth to PT & work (12 miles each way), to every meeting and appointment, to the gym before heading home for the day...everywhere I had to go I was riding that bike. It really helped me to have alone time (without drugs) to just think, until I was cut off by a guy in a white Camry....he turned into a gas station and saw me heading his direction - I guess he could see I was enraged because he ran into the store and locked himself in the bathroom! I continued to ride that bike until I PCS'd....the mover forgot to load it in my household goods. For me, it took something physical, and alone for me to deal with it, I still have many days where unexpected booms, or smells trigger thoughts and feelings.

I quit drinking, smoking, I take 23 pills day and night. I don't read anything about war, I don't watch anything about war, and I don't discuss what I did in Nam, except through counciling.I try to stay busy and enjoy fishing out of my kayak. Now, I really enjoy RP and the people I've come in contact with. Because of RP, I am starting to open up a little and I really enjoy the topics and replies. Other than that, it's a great life.
I always worked shift work and I never turned down overtime. I used to drink as much as I could to get drunk. My family saw me come home many times at night and when I opened the door, I fell out and laid on the grass until my wife helped me up. We never argued because I was hardly ever there. Our marriage was our second marriage. I had two kids and she had two kids. We combined the family and almost all of the time my wife did everything by herself, with four kids. In 2002 I was reunited with a guy that I saved his life in Nam. The memories of the night he was rescued kept playing through my mind. If I stayed drunk I didn't dream anything about Nam because I usually passed out. In 2006 my wife went to work for an airlines as a flight attendant. I was home alone three weeks out of four. One night I decided I'd had enough and took a whole bottle of anti depressant pills and sleep medicine. My wife returned earlier than normal on her trips. She told me when she came in the bedroom, she thought I was sleeping until she saw the bottles and couldn't wake me up. She called 911 and I was taken to the VA emergency room. They were able to save me and when I woke up I realized what had happened and I was pissed off. My mind is still fuzzy about that night, but I did eventually go back to work. I was still drinking like a fish but my production at work was going down quick. One day at work I flipped out and started yelling and crying, throwing wall lockers around in the change room, until my supervisor came in. He got me calmed down and we went to the front office. They called my wife to come out I was forced to take medical retirement. As I contineud to go to VA counciling, I had to make a life or death decision. Did I want to continue drinking or did I want to be helped. I decide I wanted the help so I quit drinking, and later quit smoking. My entire outlook on life changed and I could actually smile sometimes. In November, 1994 one of our sons was killed in a car accident. Two people in the other car died also. When the blood tests came back it showed my sons alcohol content was .013. When I found out that, I felt like I was responsible because of all my drinking. Fourteen months later our house caught fire and burned down. All of these things plus Vietnam came to a head and that's when I tried to kill myself again We have always gone to church and are Christians, and I think that is the only reason I'm alive today and our marriage stayed together. Things aren't 100% now but as I'm getting older and have seven grandchildren, my thoughts are only about them. I still get depressed and down, but the medication helps me get throught it because I stopped drinking.

Officers aren't supposed to be affected by conditions like Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, right? I mean, PTSD is a mental health issue. Mental health issues are a sign of weakness; a defect of character, right? Of course, when our NCOs and Enlisted Soldiers come to us directly with a personal issue, or if their Battle brings it to us, we don't think any less of these good Soldiers; but Officers? Why, it's tantamount to Conduct Unbecoming...

Believe it or not, this was my mindset, once upon a time. And once upon a time, this way of thinking almost proved fatal to me.

I was a Company Commander of a Combat Support MP Company in the area of Bayji, Iraq, from November 2006 - November 2007. We were on the ground for the Surge and the violence that ensued. In addition to the violence and carnage I witnessed firsthand, there were other things going down behind the scenes that upon DEMOB, I felt like I had failed my Soldiers; let them all down. I started to blame myself personally for every casualty suffered; particularly the severely burned, the amputees, and the paraplegics. Of course, I also assumed full responsibility for our two KIA.

Following a winter of doing little more than drinking and ice-fishing, I had to find something to distance myself from this shitstorm of guilt and depression that was seeking to devour me. I hated sleep, as images from IED strikes and decapitated Iraqi Policemen kept running amok in my dreams. My wife urged me to go to the VA; "Fuck you!", was my bitter response. It would get better, I rationalized, once I got back to doing something productive. For a little while, I was right.

In June, I started a full-time Master's Program to get my Degree in Special Education. It felt good have something to focus all of my attention on; blocking out most of the outside world for several hours at a time. I was studying; surely I wasn't isolating! Yet that is precisely what it was. Before long, when studying (isolating) in the evenings, it felt relaxing to have a beer while working (Don't normal guys enjoy a beer while working into the night?). Gradually, the amount of beer consumed increased over time.

As the program increased in intensity, I was happy. I had found a way to outrun my nightmares; I was working every night to the point of exhaustion. I had schoolwork and research to do, so I had the perfect out to avoid most family functions and get-togethers. In an effort to convince myself that I wasn't a failure, I had become a perfectionist; striving for the highest grade possible on every assignment and test, and driving my poor classmates insane if it was their misfortune to end up assigned to a group project with me. Following two years of living the good life, and another year of student-teaching, I graduated with my Masters of Ed Degree from the University of Minnesota. I had even landed a job in one of the classrooms I had done one of my student-teaching placements in! At this point, I thought I had it beat.

My first year of teaching was great! I had the same support staff working for me that my mentor had the year prior, and the Principal who hired me was very pleased. Still, my evenings were no longer filled with the frantic activities of writing and studying, which left more time to devote to beer drinking. I was up to a 6-pack a night when I got the idea to switch up to the 16 ounce cans, but I stayed at the 6-pack a night quantity, of course. Thank God I had a comfortable place to sit and watch my hockey games at home; this is the only explanation as to why I never got a DUI; I never had to drink and drive! My wife and I would argue quite frequently about the drinking, but in my mind, I knew the drinking wasn't the real problem. I never wanted to talk about the real problem.

In my second year, my building had a new Principal and the District had hired a new Special Ed Director. Where I found support and positive reinforcement in everything I did the year prior, it seemed I could do no right at all in the eyes of my superiors in my second year. In November, I received a By Name Request for a mission to Afghanistan. I had worked for the O-5 and O-6 who had made the request in the past, so that part made it easy. The situation at work, when coupled with the sense of unfinished business from Iraq, made it even easier. I said I would go. A week later, I had a Mob Order. If all went according to plan, I would be leaving on 1 May 2013.

Within a week of submitting my Mob Order to my employer, I was out of a job. The end was abrupt, unexpected, and came the day before Christmas Break. Just prior to the start of the day, I was called to the Principal's Office. Sitting there was my Union Rep and the Special Ed Director. I was informed that in light of my "decision" to go to Afghanistan (I would have been involuntarily mob'ed anyway), the District was exercising it's right to buy-out my contract, effective immediately, and after the Union Rep had escorted me to collect my personal things, I was done. Never got to say good bye to my students or co-workers; gone!
That was a tough blow to absorb.

Oh well, at least we have Afghanistan, right? Wrong. A few weeks later, when the DOD was ordered to cut expenses in Afghanistan, the Reserve Component BDE I was to be a part of was scrubbed from the mission. Suddenly, I felt totally empty inside. I no longer had a job to go to nor a deployment to explain away why I wasn't at work right now. I sat and got good and drunk. When my wife came home, she got really pissed, because I was too drunk to go to a dinner party at her co-worker's house. I didn't really give a fuck, I explained, because people would only ask me what I was doing now, and what the Hell was I supposed to tell them? She left. I finished off the last three beers in the fridge. I then chambered one round in my .357 Ruger, spun the cylinder, and pulled the trigger. Nothing. I did it again. Nothing. Suddenly, this sense of sanity came over me, and I got really, really terrified. I unloaded the firearm and secured it. I called my wife, and told her to get home, at once. When she got home, I had a bag packed and ready to go to the VA Hospital. She asked me if we couldn't wait until tomorrow. I said I didn't want to take that chance.

That was two years ago this past February. Those were some very dark times. After two separate in-patient programs a bunch of out-patient sessions, and the discovery of a TBI that I was unaware of from one of our very first incidents in Theater, things are much better today than they were, still, there are costs. As a result of disclosing my issues, I am now in the process of going through a Medical Evaluation Board. I am at peace with that. I am still a leader, and if by my example, someone else who is struggling feels a little less stigmatized when they decide to seek care, then it will have been worth it. If anyone ever wants to talk to me about this, I will honor your privacy. Feel free to shoot me a PM.

Time, time, and time... And talking with folks who have been there.

As a medic I saw many horrendous things, saw the light vanish in a mans eyes and watch the eyes dilate as the heart stops providing pressure to the muscle. BUT I think the job prepared me well for this and, as far as I can tell, I do not have PTSD. I don't have nightmares because I knew I did the best that I could at my job and found peace in that. I think finding acceptance and comprehension in the gruesome helps.

Medication... It seems to be the only thing working at the time.

CPT (Join to see) I assume you are asking this from a professional standpoint since you are a Psychologist.

I do not have PTSD, and have no combat experience. I do, however, deal with Combat PTSD, as I provide counseling services to vets who are suffering from it.

THIS IS A PSA: If you are suffering and need help - call the hotline at [login to see] option 1.

If you need non-urgent help, you can always reach out to me through RP...

I can't endorse highly enough the book "Once a Warrior Always a Warrior" http://amzn.to/1G9JfWF This book, by Col C Hoge MC USA Ret. is a "how to" manual for vets and their families, dealing with Combat PTSD. It is a must read, if you have it, or know someone who is suffering.

For those of you in RP land that have gotten into legal trouble due to your PTSD, I say that this is a national tragedy and embarrassment. It is outrageous, but not surprising, that DOD does so little to help the troops with PTSD.

Some jurisdictions have veteran's courts, and they have specific programs to help troubled vets regain control of their lives.

Please, I can't say this enough, if you are hurting, don't self-medicate, and don't ignore it. Reach out to someone. Don't let your life become a statistic, because you served your country...

I don't have PTSD, I just have 'Major Depressive Disorder with Anxiety Disorder'...whatever in the hell that means. Thank God that I can deal with it without the assistance of pills. I, like CSM Michael J. Uhlig, used physical activity (mine was hiking) until recently. My physical injuries have made hiking no longer a viable option. I am going to try pool therapy to see if that will help me. Contrary to popular belief (in my unit), I don't enjoy being injured and going through a MEB...

I pray all of you dealing with PTSD are able to find something that works for each of you! Keep trying different things until you find what works for you! God Bless!

I keep to myself and stay away from situations that could trigger an episode. I was an 88M (transportation) and was a huge target. I saw and experienced so much. Driving, loud noises, fireworks are the worst. I don't enjoy what I used to. I dive into doing things for my kids that I am raising by myself. I have also started "farming". I have goats, chickens, ducks, dogs and cats and will plant a garden this spring. I just do things to keep my mind off of the things that I have to my meds for. It is not something to be ashamed of, and I now know this. It happens to the weakest and strongest of us all.

In 1990 I was activated with my Army Reserve Unit for Desert Shield/Storm. I was a civilian Chief of Police at the time and could have opted out of deployment as my job was considered civilian essential. However, I did not feel I could abandon all I had trained so hard for, or all the professional soldiers I had helped train throughout the years. As the Operations St. for this Military Police Company, I felt very confident in our leadership especially our NCO's.

The day before the ground war started, my CO and 1SG directed me to take over our 1ST PLT. as they had relieved the existing PSG. I knew most soldiers in the PLT., however, I had been Operations St., for several years, and was not totally aware of their capabilities. I had to admit to myself that for the first time since activation, I was scared to death of losing one of my troops. So much so that it was all consuming. I trusted nearly everyone to do as they were all trained to do, but I still worried about them all.

We went in with 1st ID, into Kuwait, and then Iraq. All platoons went in different directions and were on their own. My platoon was directed to set up the 7th CORP EPW cage and begin taking EPW's. The platoon of 33 soldiers took in and secured several thousand EPW's in for 48 hours before getting additional support. The ground war was fast paced with the usual smells, sights, sounds, mine fields, cluster bombs, scud missiles, etc. I think what made some things worse for me was I broke my back and injured my shoulder and neck in a fall on the first day of the ground war. However, I thought I had just bruised it badly. There was no immediate medical treatment available. About two weeks later when I met with a doctor he wanted to air lift me to Landsthuel, Germany. I refused to go as I didn't want to leave the troops in the platoon.

Upon deactivation, I was a medical holdover and received treatment for my injuries. I left Active duty and continued treatment at the VA in Minneapolis. A couple of surgeries later, I returned to my job a Police Chief. I found, that my concentration, communication, decision making capability, and my enthusiasm for my job had diminished. In was exhausted and never woke up feeling rested. I argued with my Officers and Civilians. I lost interest in things I had liked to do. Things that were important to me before deployment, were no longer that way. This went on for two years. I had trouble sleeping 4 hours straight. My days and nights reversed. I had terrible dreams and thoughts. All the negatives of war came back at night.

I just did not feel like myself. I felt totally numb and alone even thought I had a wife and three children at home. One day at work, I was at my desk and I just started to cry, which I never did. I suspected that I was depressed, but as a Senior NCO I could not let on that there was something wrong. I did not want to break the Army Culture at the time, and did not want to be booted from service. After 2 1/2 years of struggle, I finally sought help at the Minneapolis VA. They were not equipped for the influx of soldiers asking for help. There had been no form of re-integration training at all. I was put on medication, and eventually started some counseling. I was diagnosed with Acute Depression and PTSD. I could understand the depression, but not the PTSD. After all, I was a COP who had see traffic fatalities, suicides, rapes, deaths, and all the negatives associated with policing. I was a hardened and seasoned Officer, who had never been troubled by any of it before.

Seeking help when I did probably saved my life. I only wished I had sought help earlier. I received treatment that did help. Last year I participated in a new 12 week PTSD Program that I think was very helpful for me. There is light at the end of the tunnel. Although those of us with PTSD will always have it with us. Good days, bad days, but with counseling it's much easier to deal with it. My family received counseling, and now understand what PTSD is and how to help me deal with it. If I had bucked the Army Culture at the time perhaps my struggles would have been easier. I should have thrown out the Strong NCO and Soldier thing right away.
MY ADVICE IS TO EDUCATE YOURSELF ON THE SIGNS AND SYMPTOMS OF THESE DISEASES, LISTEN TO YOUR FAMILY MEMBERS, AND DON'T HESITATE TO ASK FOR HELP. IF YOU KNOW OF A FELLOW SOLDIER WHO IS STRUGGLING, ENCOURAGE THEM TO SEEK HELP, OR NOTIFY LAW ENFORCEMENT OR MEDICAL AUTHORITIES TO POSSIBLY GET THAT SOLDIER SOME HELP.