We're all in this shit together

We're in this together, man. In life, yes, but I speak to a less broad audience. Caregivers of people with living with PTSD. Veterans, more specifically. 

I sat in on a telephone conference today that centered on caregivers and their needs. It was called the "Forgotten Me". Now. I'm not going to criticize the fact that those who put on this conference were trying to accomplish something good. BUT. It sucked. It focused on breathing exercises and how to identify when you're stressed. Bitch, please. One universal fact of being a caregiver is stress. It just is. That's why caregiver burnout is a real and sometimes, damaging thing. While I can see the appeal is stopping to take a deep breath, breathing exercises are not going to heal my stress or eliminate my worry.  I suffer from "doitall syndrome". By that I mean I take it all on and I have this wild and arrogant view that I can DO IT ALL without any help. I mean, I'm superwoman after all, right? Haha. 

I can't do it all and when it falls apart is when I inevitably lose my shit. At least I'm consistent. 

Okay, so back on topic. During this conference there was a portion at the end where the individuals participating could talk and give feedback. As you can imagine, it was a lot of "well, I was SO impressed with the breathing techniques" and the like. However. There was one voice that was more vocal than the others. She spoke about being alone. It happens. I've talked about it. A lot. She also spoke about not having support. Again. VERY common. But, towards the end of the session, she came in swinging. She blasted post-9/11 veterans and caregivers. She went on and on about the WWII veterans and their lack of support and the Vietnam veterans. 

Now. She had a point. 

There is a divide between the older sect of veterans and the new. There just is. There shouldn't be. Veterans are Veterans. Brothers in arms. 

The system has failed our veterans in more ways than one. PTSD and TBIs are just now being fully examined. It's not a new occurrence, although the prevalence is higher than  in the past. I can see where the bitterness comes from. It should be directed towards the right people, though. Other veterans and caregivers are not the problem. We should be here to hold each other up and to commiserate together. The system is the problem. It's been broken for a long time. 

The good new is, we can work to fix it. There are advocates working to do that, right now. There are organizations working to right the wrongs. There are individuals who are there. There are people who care and dare I say, love. We can work together. Like I said, we're in this shit together. 

Partners and Family: The unheard voices

The other night, I read an article from CNN about the high suicide rates among family and partners of veterans with PTSD. A lot in the article spoke to my experiences. Now, here's the thing, the experiences that me and my family have had are NOT a reflection on my husband, as a person. I think it's easy to fall into blaming mode and look at the negatives, but, for me, I refuse to go down this road. My husband's fight with PTSD is not his alone and it does affect our family, BUT, we are a stronger family because of it.

However, I know that this is not a universal truth. Families are torn apart by PTSD and lives are lost. The statistics say that 22 veterans a day commit suicide because of PTSD and we are just now examining the numbers related to family member deaths. So far, they are astronomical. When PTSD enters our lives, it takes it over. It changes our loved ones into a different person and it makes them say or do things that they would never have done before.

When you read my writings, you'll notice that I refer to PTSD as a separate entity. For me, I've chosen to see it this way. My husband does not embody his PTSD, he lives with it. PTSD does not define him and it does not define my family. It has forced us to "a new normal", but in other ways, it has forced us closer. Communication has become the central of our existence. "Do you need to talk?" is an often heard question in our house.

But, I digress. Back to my original topic. We, as family of those dealing with PTSD are not super heroes. I get commended a lot for how I support my husband, but it's not worth of praise, in my opinion. I am just a partner. I am supporting him the best way I know how and I often fail. We, as family, are also not martyrs. We have our own thoughts, our own feelings and our own imperfections. It's easy to make PTSD the central focus of your lives when it enters a home. It's easy to ignore your own needs and your own feelings in the interest of healing. BUT, and this is important: PTSD never goes away. There is no cure. There is managing and there is time, but there is no absolute solution.

This truth makes it ever so much more important that, as support, your needs are met. You cannot do everything and you cannot fix everything. All you can do is minimize the damage. It is entirely acceptable to step back and say "I can't do this". It is entirely acceptable to say "I need a break" and it is entirely acceptable to NOT accept responsibility for everything.

Believe me, I have to remind myself of these things daily. I love my husband with everything that I have. I love him as he was and as he is. PTSD is not the central theme in our house. Love is. We are not perfect. No one is. I'm not coming to this post from a place of "haha, I'm doing this so much better than you", because, well, I'm not. I have struggled with intrusive thoughts and I am being treated for depression.

The good thing is, it gets better. YOU are important. YOU are worthy and YOU need to care for YOU before anyone else. There are resources. There is help. There are others. Sometimes your best resource is the person who has been there and understands your challenges. Step up. Speak out and demand to be heard. You deserve it.