My story, and why you should never be afraid to ask for help. Submitted by gs5805 on 22 July 2010 - 7:24am. veteran It is my sincere hope that anyone out there who may need help, will read this post. I served in the Army during Operations Enduring Freedom and Iraqi Freedom. I saw a lot of things that haunt me to this day, and I am absolutely certain that I am not alone. I am writing this to tell my story, in hopes that someone who reads it may see that getting help is a good thing. I returned home in the summer of 2005, I was out of the Army for good, not by choice but due to injuries I sustained in the desert. I went out to Fort Lewis Washington, and I picked up my car from a buddy who had been keeping it for me. I stayed with him a couple days before heading out to drive home to North Carolina. The trip took me most of five days to drive from the west coast to the east coast. It was near midnight on the last day of the trip when I finally got HOME. As I pulled in, I was greeted by my parents, my brother and his wife, my daughter, my best friend and his wife and my uncle. I hugged my daughter for what felt like a long time, she was twelve at the time and it was the first time I had seen her in nearly three years. My dad asked me how I felt, he was worried about my leg and my back, being that Id had surgery to rebuild my leg just three months prior, and had just spent nearly a week driving home in a Mitsubishi eclipse. I looked at my dad and everyone was waiting for my response. I said Im just really happy to be alive. The next few weeks went by quickly, visitors coming to see me had slowed to two or three a week, my estranged wife and I were on talking terms and I had been able to spend time with both my kids. I did not go out much, and I would lock myself in my room for most of the day because I was afraid to go out. Thunderstorms rattled me to the point my dad found me hiding under my bed. This was embarrasing for me, thirty one years old and living with my parents, afraid to go out, and terrified of thunder. I was having horrible nightmares,the slightest things would cause me to have flashbacks, I could not sleep when I wanted to, and could not stay awake when I wanted to. I began to drink heavily, My appetite was erratic,I became very angry not only at myself, because I felt frustrated about what was happening to me, but at everyone around me. I started thinking about suicide. For weeks I thought about it. I had even gone as far as developing a plan. I dont remember what it was that stopped me from doing it. One day, about five and a half months after getting home, My brother came down from Virginia for a visit. I went with him to the local wal-mart, I do not remember what we went for. While we were there, something heavy was dropped to the floor on the next aisle over, and although I do not remember doing this, I apparently grabbed my brother and dove to the floor, covering his head with my arms and screaming Incoming. Later that day, he and I got into an arguemnet, he wanted me to get help. I exploded, I was far more angry than I should have been over something so small. For weeks my dad and uncle had tried to talk me into seeking help, they had both been to Vietnam and could see what was happening to me, even though I could not see it myself. Of course I denied that I was having a problem. I felt that getting help meant that I was weak.I was terrified that they would say that I had gone insane and lock me away because I was dangerous. I dont remember everything that happened that day, I dont remember what my brother did for me to react the way I did. One second we were argueing four feet apart, the next my dad and uncle had hold of me pulling me back and my brothers arm was broken in four places. I called the VA that afternoon, I got an appointment and I went. When I started to talk about the things I had seen, and everything else that was going on, it was like a flood gate opened and all that hate and anger began to flow out. It took time, and I had to start medication, but it really did help me to talk about it. It helped me to know that their were others that knew how I felt, and were feeling the same things I was. I am writing this to say that, getting help is not weakness, I have discovered that it is a very strong act. It says that you are willing to accept that you need help, and your life and the lives of those around you and close to you will be made better because of it. It is not always an easy road, there will be bumps along the way, but the posters are correct. It takes the courage of a warrior to ask for help. It has been five years now that I have been home, I have not drunk a beer in a long time, and I can not remeber the last time I raised my voice. I have the love of my children, a wonderful woman, and a good relationship with those around me.I hope that my story may inspire others to get the help they need, and to realize they are not alone. If it helps just one person, then that is wonderful and worth the time it took to tell it. Know this, that if you want to talk,and are willing to talk, there is always someone who is willing to listen, and extend a hand to help you up. Thank you to all who came before me, and those who are serving today, for my life, and my freedom. God Bless America.
Posted on: Fri, 18 Oct 2013 02:17:36 +0000
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