The term post traumatic stress is heard often these days—on the news, in blogs and articles, in professional journals—almost to the point of confusion and overuse. But back when I suffered some of its symptoms following my husband's death, most people were unfamiliar with it. PTSD results from an extreme experience, one so overwhelming you don't (or can't) respond in a normal way, “normal” meaning with sadness and anger that diminishes within a reasonable period of time and that does not, to a disabling extent, affect day-to-day life. For me, it was finding my husband in the aftermath of his suicide.
Overwhelmed is not the right word for what I felt. I was hysterical. Literally. I could not stop screaming until a nurse grabbed my shoulders and gave me a forceful shake. For a period of years afterward, I was haunted by flashbacks to that moment and vivid, unreal images that made me feel crazy. Leaving home could unpredictably fill me with dread. I remember needing a few things one afternoon—cat food, milk, detergent. I sat in my car at the grocery store with my heart pounding, shaking, panting shallow breaths, until I finally gave up and drove home. I had nightmares until I was unable to sleep; I walked my neighborhood street in the middle of nights when I could not bear to be in the house alone. I began to work with the elderly because I felt I had no future, and I was drawn by their nearness to death. I drove for miles out of my way to avoid any glimpse of the huge hospital complex where my husband, a physician there, died. I haven’t been back to this hospital to see the oil portrait of him the hospital commissioned.
This was my experience of post traumatic stress. I told a few friends about the insomnia, but not the rest. I lived with it until these problems finally abated. I still struggle with anxiety when someone I care about isn't home when they're supposed to be, unable to keep myself from imagining the worst. I still avoid contact with this hospital, as much as possible; it’s the main hospital, though, so I can’t always. It will never be a place I can go without reliving what happened there.
I understand what it is to feel that you cannot control your own mind and emotions in the wake of a deeply disturbing shock. I know what it is to face years in which your response to normal events is not normal. I know what it is to be forever changed by an event that divides your life into “before” and “after” and can feel for a time like it has divided your very self into two different selves: one struggling to survive, one who just wants to quit and die. I cannot even imagine what living through combat in a war must be like. But if you have and can share your story to help others understand, I hope you will. Matt Myers’s father has, and it deeply affected him and his family. You’ll find his story in the section that follows.
“In my experience, one of the worst things about PTSD is the deep feeling of isolation that comes along with it. When people with PTSD do reach out to their friends and feel rejected, they learn to keep everything bottled up. It doesn’t take long to feel like you’re in a world all your own, and no one cares. I think friends want to help, but they don’t know how. They don’t know how to listen to hard stories while insulating themselves from the trauma.”
—Matt Myers
PTSD Resources
More Information
Click here for Matt’s suggestions to help friends with PTSD.
Addiction in Active Duty Service Members—Good information and statistics, as well as different modes of treatment
Healing Combat Trauma—Particularly helpful for women but has many links and is packed with information; look at the sidebar for a list of recommended books
Mesothelioma Veterans Center—From Lindsey Berger, Advocacy Support: “I came across The All-Weather Friend while searching for organizations to reach out to about supporting our veterans. I’m a member of the online outreach team with Mesothelioma Veterans Center. I’m reaching out to you in an effort to bring awareness about addiction risks in the veterans community. Hundreds of thousands of U.S. military members have selflessly dedicated their lives to serving our great nation. Sadly, many of them have given up their lives to protect the rights and freedoms of fellow American citizens. Others may suffer from mental health problems such as PTSD, depression, [and] anxiety disorders”
National Center for PTSD—US Department of Veterans Affairs
Make the Connection—Website for veterans with video interviews and links
Heal My PTSD—Blog by a trauma survivor who has made a successful career out of helping others with PTSD
Understanding PTSD—This is a page from a website specializing in sleep, and while the article is not about sleep, it has many links about sleep and clear information about PTSD.
Very Well—Many links to articles and information, well-organized
Veteran Substance Abuse—A War on Home Soil for Veterans
Ashley Santangelo, "A Blueprint When Feeling Blue: How A Mental Health Diagnosis Can Be Empowering,” Jenn Reviews, Fall 2018
“... I had no interest whatsoever in meditation before my anxiety hit its peak in my early twenties. I tried meditation, with some skepticism, after some peers and providers had recommended it to me. Meditation ended up benefiting me so much that I continued to practice for long after my symptoms improved. As a result of practicing meditation, I have become more patient, more present, and more appreciative.”
Ari DeLevie, “The Difficulties of Dating When You Have PTSD," The Good Man Project, December 20, 2014
“When you suffer from post-war PTSD dating can be challenging. It’s not something you want to advertise on dating sites, or when you see a beautiful woman in a bar. But how can you find connection when you’re caught in this place of emotional paralysis?”
Viatcheslav Wlassoff, “How Does Post Traumatic Stress Disorder Change the Brain?” Brain Blogger, January 24, 2015
“Child abuse. Rape. Sexual assault. Brutal physical attack. Being in a war and witnessing violence, bloodshed, and death from close quarters. Near death experiences. These are extremely traumatic events, and some victims bear the scars for life.”
Junot Diaz, “The Silence: The Legacy of Childhood Trauma,” The New Yorker, April 16, 2018—While not directly about PTSD, this article is about the longstanding affects of trauma, in this case childhood sexual abuse; an honest, well-written account that compels a deeper understanding of how difficult it is to recover from severe trauma or, at the least, to find reasonable peace.
“And yet despite all my healing I still feel that something important, something vital, has eluded me. The impulse to hide, to hold myself apart from my colleagues, from my fellow-writers, from my students, from the circle of life has remained uncannily strong. During the public talks I’ve given at universities and conferences, I’ve sometimes commented on the intergenerational harm that systemic sexual violence has inflicted on African diasporic communities, on my community. But have I ever actually come out and said that I was the victim of sexual violence? I’ve said elusive things here and there but nothing actionable, no definitive statements.”
Sebastian Junger, "How PTSD Became a Problem Far Beyond the Battlefield,” Vanity Fair, June 2015
“The first time I experienced what I now understand to be post-traumatic stress disorder, I was in a subway station in New York City, where I live. It was almost a year before the attacks of 9/11, and I’d just come back from two months in Afghanistan with Ahmad Shah Massoud, the leader of the Northern Alliance. I was on assignment to write a profile of Massoud, who fought a desperate resistance against the Taliban until they assassinated him two days before 9/11. At one point during my trip we were on a frontline position that his forces had just taken over from the Taliban, and the inevitable counterattack started with an hour-long rocket barrage. All we could do was curl up in the trenches and hope. I felt deranged for days afterward, as if I’d lived through the end of the world.”
Greg Jaffe, “New Name for PTSD Could Mean Less Stigma,” Washington Post, May 5, 2012
“PTSD refers to the intense and potentially crippling symptoms that some people experience after a traumatic event such as combat, a car accident or rape. To Chiarelli and the psychiatrists pressing for a change, the word “injury” suggests that people can heal with treatment. A disorder, meanwhile, implies that something is permanently wrong.”
Andrea Pino, “The Second Rape: Battling PTSD and Betrayal,” Huffington Post, January 2014—A powerful article, including the link to Pino's disturbing original story. Its message is for anyone who has had PTSD symptoms dismissed by friends, by colleagues, and by people in positions of authority. Carolina was my undergraduate alma mater. How I hope things have changed. If so, it is due to those who had the courage to speak up.
“I have PTSD from being raped, harassed, and betrayed by the very ‘heroes’ I admired during my first days on my campus. I have PTSD from being told that my headaches, body aches, and fears were ‘irrational’ and ‘unprofessional.’ I have PTSD from being made to feel that my disability rendered me worthless, and that my actions and decisions — regardless of being up to par with others — were ‘clouded’ by my rape. I have PTSD from hearing more than 100 stories of the same, sickening abuse and blatant apathy — holding dozens of survivors; talking dozens away from suicide; hearing every story echo the same pattern of violence and betrayal.
When I was asked how I have PTSD if I’m not a solider, I sank in my chair, ashamed and guilty for claiming a disability that plagued so many of our veterans. But, when I read MST survivor Jennifer Norris’s blog, the veteran’s words sounded much too familiar:‘In the end, I realized that the original oppression AND retaliation for reporting those violent crimes is what truly damaged me. I was completely taken by surprise. I had no idea that I would ever be scorned and accused of causing a criminal to ‘lose their job’. I just assumed that I would be believed and taken care of. Boy was I wrong.’
Every person that has PTSD is currently fighting a battle — an invisible war that plagues each of us equally, regardless of the traumas that brought us to the battlefield.... ”
Robert F. Worth, “What if PTSD Is More Physical Than Psychological?” The New York Times Magazine, June 10, 2016—This article is about traumatic brain injury caused by exposure to explosions. It made me think and to realize in a more visceral way what our soldiers go through in protecting human rights. Read it and you'll have a sense—but only a sense—of what it is to live through an explosion.
“ ... As in World War I, the men often suffered from striking mental impairments but few visible wounds. Cernak, whose colleagues call her Ibi, has an appealing blend of briskness and warmth, along with a clinician’s conviction that you must listen to your patients. It is easy to imagine her running around the battlefields of Bosnia and Serbia, collecting blood samples from soldiers. That is what she did for several years, at no small risk to her life, for a study cataloging the neurological effects of blast on 1,300 recruits. ‘The blast covers the entire body,’ she told me. ‘It has a squeezing effect. Ask soldiers what they felt: The first thing they say is that their ears were popped out, they were gasping for air, like some huge fist is squeezing them. The entire body is involved in that interaction....’”
My father was a Vietnam vet and a double amputee, and The Inherited War is a collection of stories from our lives together. My intention in writing about it is to tell how the Vietnam War affected my dad and how he, in turn, affected his family. It’s my father’s story, seen through my eyes; it’s also the story of my life, in which my dad is a principal character.