The "new normal" for military and veterans families

For the Love of Jack
by
Chaplain Kathie

Well it isn't really "new" since Vietnam veterans and their families have been living with it for 40 years, any more than it was new to older veterans.

In 1999 I wanted to tell our story so that all the other families would know there was nothing to be ashamed of when it came to living with PTSD veterans any more than there is anything to be ashamed of with any other type of mental illness. I tried to find a publisher for a year with more "no thank you" form letters than I can remember. Then September 11th came.

Jonathan Shay had been trying to help me find a publisher for this book but even with his reputation no one wanted it. I contacted him after I read his first book Achilles in Vietnam. He was working for the Boston VA at the time. My husband was going to the VA hospital for an appointment in Bedford when the planes hit and the VA went into shutdown. He called me in a panic. I called Jonathan and said "you know what's coming with this" a few days later and I told him I was going to self publish. He knew as well as I did that the attacks would increase PTSD in our veterans. We were sadly right.

I revised it a little more over the next couple of months and it was self published in Spring of 2002. Little did I know how long the wars would go on. I didn't know that for all we learned about PTSD and early intervention, the government would repeat the same mistakes. Redeployments increased the risks of PTSD by 50%. As you can read in our story, my husband had mild PTSD for years but without help, he was not able to overcome the secondary stressor like many other veterans, offering a warning that if we did not address it early on, there would be many more suffering needlessly. The government did not learn the lesson Vietnam veterans had to teach them.

The book didn't sell and I was too busy to really push it. Finally I gave up, cut my losses and put it online for free. As an author, I make a good reader admiring people like Shay knowing I will never be good enough to write like that.

If you are living with a veteran with PTSD, you should really read his book. I don't know how many books I read by the time I read his but his was the first one where I found words reflecting my life with my husband. Learn from what the older veterans and their families had to go through and know that it is not hopeless and you are not helpless. This is not a "normal" life but being a veteran is not "normal" either. Less than 10% of our population served in combat and less than 1% serve now. None of us are "normal" to the rest of them but there is no shame in what is our "new normal" anymore than there is reason to be ashamed of any of them.

I didn't always feel that way. When I wrote the book no one was really talking about PTSD so there were still secrets to keep. I changed some things in the book. Since blogging, here and on my older blogs, I opened up more about all of this as other people came forward and were willing to end their own secret suffering.

For the Love of Jack by Kathie Costos
Chapter 21


I believed that we, as Americans, had learned a great deal about ourselves because of Vietnam. When the Gulf War was going on, the public stood behind the servicemen and women, although we did not agree with the war itself. They went together and returned together as heroes. I wondered if the Vietnam War’s outcome would have been different if the South Vietnamese people had oil. We didn’t have anything to gain by helping them. It cost money and lives. The vets of Vietnam saw what America was capable of when the government gave full support to the armed forces. They knew the answer to “Why now and not then?” They had been sacrificed by a misconception of what the American public would tolerate.

The Vietnam veterans were left to fight in obscurity. Fight the memories and aftereffects as well as fight for their rights as veterans, again without the support of the American public. PTSD is real! If you haven’t heard about it before this, you are in the majority. It is considered a mental illness and as such, no one suffering from it wants to stand up and shout for his or her rights. They have been told too many times, “It happened thirty years ago. Get over it!” I am

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here to testify to the reality of this dark secret. I have been a witness to the destruction of lives and the insurmountable obstacles they must overcome for justice. To heal and find peace is the primary goal and the compensation for their suffering is validation of their sacrifice.
I know that the Jack I loved is still there inside of him and sometimes he lets him out from behind the wall to reassure me that he lives on. As long as I see signs of the man I fell in love with, there is hope and a reminder of how it used to be with us. There are times when this man that I have shared nearly half of my life with amazes me. With all that he has been through he is still a good man. There must be so much strength in him to be the way he is. So many times I want to climb into his head and take a look around to find out what makes him so special. It seems funny to use that term but I saw something special in him so long ago and it is still there. The medication is helping him sleep and he has fewer times when he is totally despondent. It still breaks my heart when sometimes I glance at him. He will be sitting in his chair, his head held in his hands, staring at the floor. Then he will look up and smile. I hate the fact he has suffered so much and I miss the way it used to be for us.

Over the years I have learned a great deal about people. We are all searching for something more. It is as if we are fully aware that we are missing something, but no one really knows what it is. If you asked a person who is religious or spiritual, they usually will be able to answer you. Faith fills the void. We really are remarkable. The human spirit hardly ever admits defeat. We keep trying and getting up out of bed every day no matter what we are facing.

I suppose it is true what they say about adversity, it either destroys you or makes you stronger. I know that it made me stronger and also made my faith stronger. I am confident that I would not have read the Bible and clung to it as a lifeline so many times. I realize the value of just being there to listen when someone is hurting. My mother and sister-in-law still don’t

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realize how much their being there for me meant. I tried to explain that just knowing someone was there for me to turn to kept me going and kept me from going over the edge emotionally. It made me a better listener. It feels good to know that people feel comfortable enough to come to me with their problems. I understand that they are not always looking for answers. Sometimes they just need comfort.

Jack and I lost the friends we had. I guess it was hard to be around us when we were dealing with so many different things. I miss them. I miss Tom and Ellen. When I think about how much they were a part of our life back then it is hard to realize that closeness has been reduced to a Christmas card every year. I think I miss the Vietnam veterans the most. Tom was a Vietnam veteran too and as far as I know he is still okay. They have a special place in my heart and I am sure that I will never forget them. It is easy to dismiss what you have not truly been touched by. They got to me. I do not delude myself into thinking that I would have cared so much if I had not been so personally involved with them. They do not open up easily. I think the invention of the Internet will help them more than anything else has. They are able to reach out to others across the country and continue the brotherhood.

I have spent the last eighteen years of my life trying to understand Vietnam and veterans of this tragedy. I think about the families behind each of the men who died there on the battlefields and in the jungles. I think about the ones who took their own lives like Andy and the ones like Jack that lived with it all on a daily basis. Again a reminder for me is the statistics that of the 2.8 million that served in Southeast Asia, over one million saw active combat. One million lives offered as a sacrifice for a war no one supported. We went to the Wall That Heals when it came to a nearby town again. We were not sure when we would get to see the real one and couldn’t resist going. They had a list of statistics. The statistics of the other wars made me

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sick. I couldn’t believe the numbers. So I tried to get the percentages to understand clearly what I was seeing.
WAR
WORLD WAR I WORLD WAR II KOREA VIETNAM
SERVED
4,743,826 16,353,659 5,764,143 1,600,000
BATTLE DEAD
OTHER CAUSES 63,195 115,185 20,617
WOUNDED
116,708 407,316 103,284
303,704
MISSING
204,002 672,846 8,177 2,065
53,513 292,131 33,629 58,219 STILL

There are 8 women on the Wall 7 Army nurses and 1 Air Force nurse. 260,000 served during the Vietnam Era with 7,000 to 10,000 served in Vietnam. With 75,000 Vietnam veterans permanently disabled and the figures keep growing. There have been so many suicides by Vietnam veterans there is a growing number of web sites to add the names to the list of war dead.

World War I and Korea combined had only 3,582 more wounded than Vietnam and 10,507,969 served in those two wars vs Vietnam’s 1.6 million that served in the combat environment. 24% were wounded and a 4% death rate compared to the other wars, World War I and II with death rates of 2% and 4% wounded, Korea with 1% death rate, assuming the missing men as KIA and 2% wounded.

Another reason our wedding song “A One in a Million” meant so much. As the list of names is engraved as deeply in the American psyche as it is on the cold black wall in Washington, it must be remembered that the list of the dead is endless. Andy’s name will not appear on the wall. None of the other ones whose lives ended so tragically will be added to the body count. The homeless who battle their demons as well as the cold and hunger will not have their names added to the numbers. The families dealing with these veterans will not be added to the numbers of the wounded. The politicians repeat the phrase “Not another Vietnam” and act as

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if it is something out of history. Vietnam never ended. It is lived on a daily basis. You cannot look into the eyes of a homeless vet and tell him the war is over. You cannot look into the eyes of the men and women who are in the veteran’s hospitals around the country and tell them it is time to get on with their lives and forget about it. You cannot pass it off as past tense when it is the same now as it was then for these men and women we asked to serve and suffer because of it. I can’t forget.

As for Jack and me, I am not sure what will happen. We still have to worry about Agent Orange and now the VA is concerned about hepatitis as well as diabetes. It was bad enough worrying about birth defects. He still has his claim for an increase pending after over a year and finally turned in all his paper work for disability retirement for his job. I don’t know if he will get worse without working but I know that it is making things worse for him where he is. I don’t have to see my psychologist every two weeks anymore. I only see her once a month now. I am dealing well with the frustration and anger. It also helps that Jack’s medicine has him having more “better” days than before. He is adjusting and is able to get involved more, but I seem to be always waiting for the other shoe to drop. I can’t get used to having him back in my life as an active part of the family. It seems too good to be true for both Rachel and me at times. Even my family members are surprised with some of the changes in Jack. He was never excluded from anything but most of the time he didn’t want to go where we were going. He was welcomed but if he chose not to, it was fine with us. I knew better than to try to force him to go. If it were really important to me that he was with me, I’d let him know and allow him to make the choice without having to hear about it from me. I was accustomed to being alone, but delighted when he was there. We spent too many years dealing with the unpredictable that we know better than to relax but we are enjoying the good days as they come.

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Still I am confident that we will be okay. Rachel tells me that she wants to be like me. I tell her to set higher standards. I think I have taught her that there are no limits on her abilities except for the ones she sets. All my life, I have heard that I was not supposed to do this or that, and I was more determined to do it just to prove them wrong. I hope that I have taught Rachel values and morals. My life has taught me a great deal about myself. I hated the fact that I was sensitive all my life. Jack’s illness made me realize that it was not a handicap or a character flaw. It meant that I was able to feel things deeply. Sadness touched me deeper than others. It also meant that I could feel good things more deeply as well. I told Jack that I would rather carry all the pain I was feeling so that I could feel love as much as I did. I would not trade a second of pain if it meant that I would have to give up a second of wonderment as well. I could feel the sun set when the fire in the sky left me speechless. Holding Rachel in my arms from the day she was born or the sound of her voice when she tells me, “I love you.” I never get tired of hearing it. The bad things that happened in my life are there in the shadows of all that was good and faded from memory while the good stood out comforting me, warmed me and I found strength. That was the trade off Jack gave. To keep from feeling the pain he had to keep from feeling the good as well.

I don’t have all the answers. I am just like everyone else on the planet trying to do the best I can with what is. I was blessed with curiosity and have learned because of it. It is because of this curiosity that I was able to understand Jack better. Reading about PTSD, reaching out to others dealing with it and suffering because of it, gave me comfort in an odd way. There was so many years that I felt absolutely alone. I was ashamed of Jack when he talked to himself or acted odd in front of people, or when his twitch got too noticeable. I saw the way people looked at him. Part of me wanted to slap them and the other part wanted to hide. I wished that someone

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could understand and show some compassion. Then I didn't want anyone to know because I was afraid that they wouldn’t be able to understand what our life was like. He was suffering. We were all suffering. I couldn’t get anyone to understand his illness, so I thought it would be a waste of time for me to talk about the effects it had on my life as his wife and our daughter’s life. How could anyone understand that I was living without all the normal things that people expect out of life? I didn’t have a normal marriage and it was hard, but it wasn’t impossible.
So many people in the world have what is considered normal. Too many others do not. For whatever reason, life isn’t fair and the distribution of good stuff is dolled out with the luck of the drawer. There are lonely people, sick people, hurting people who don’t have what they want. The trick is to be content with having what we need. I had everything I needed. I had a good life with Jack in the beginning. I ended up losing what I thought was important. Then I realized that I am happier than I have ever been. I have a wonderful daughter, nice home, good job, great family and friends to share my life with. It doesn’t matter anymore that my life didn’t turn out the way I thought it would. In some ways, it turned out better. I am stronger and more confident than I would have been otherwise.

I can only suggest that if you are married to someone with PTSD or any other illness, stop taking a look at what is not in your life and start being thankful for what is in your life. Grow in faith and patience, knowing who you are and where you came from. Think about what your life would be like if you didn’t share it with someone so special that had to suffer deeply for being able to feel. Look at them for the qualities that live on and be proud of them for simply getting up out of bed every day. Think about what I told you about Jack, the progression of the illness and what he went through all these years. I am sure you will find the same amazing qualities in the eyes of the one you share your life with. In the end it doesn’t matter what the

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illness is or what the problem is. All that really matters is healing. Not just the body or mind, but healing your spirit.

I remember a story in the Bible about being tested by fire. I know that I have come through the fire with some scars that remind me of where I was and what I went through, but the fire didn’t win. Vietnam left scars on Jack but it didn’t win. It didn’t destroy what is good inside him. There are similarities between us that I see more clearly than before. I lost the connection with God and so did Jack. I regained faith and I pray that Jack will someday remember the alter boy days when faith was as natural as breathing. We have been through a remarkable life together and we will go on facing whatever comes the way we have faced everything else, together.
He was my best friend. Then I became his. Vietnam was his war, but it became my
battle.

Jack and I have been married for 26 years now.

This was one of my first videos and it may help you to understand better.



Here's a story from a young veteran about coming home.

That’s coming back. We have to adjust to all of these things, often in a short period of time, often without the full under standing of our loved ones who we continue to protect from what we’ve seen. Com ing back is hard. Adjusting, accepting changes not of our own making is difficult. Living a“normal”life again can seem beyond our reach.

‘Coming home is different from coming back’

By Setti Warren
May 31, 2011
Two years ago, I re turned from a yearlong deployment in Iraq, where I served as a naval intelligence specialist.

Memorial Day has a special significance for me, as I think about the brave men and women I served with, and also the service of past generations, who helped defend the free dom we enjoy today.

My father, who was a Korean War veteran, was a major inspiration in my decision to enlist after 9/11.

During my deployment in northern Iraq, we worked together to provide accurate, detailed, and real-time intel­ligence support to troops on the front lines. I was honored to be there, and my time in Iraq gave me a deep understanding of the security challenges we face around the globe, as well as the importance of investing in intelligence gathering.

Returning from my deploy ment, I also understand first hand the difficulties many veterans face during the transition.Veterans return to a world that has changed in our absence. We have missed happy occasions like birthdays and anniversaries. Our absence was deeply felt during times of hardship and sadness.

And we have changed as well. We have seen some of the worst of humanity, and our courage and character has been tested like never before.

Coming home, we are once again embraced by loved ones and welcomed back with cere mony – parades and barbecues in our honor, family, friends and neighbors all clamoring to tell us how much they missed us and how glad they are to have us back.

But coming home is very dif ferent from coming back.

Coming back means inte grating ourselves once again into the world we left behind – our day-to-day jobs and bills, the endless“to do”list that was put on hold, household repairs and family chores left undone.

We must acclimate to signifi cant change: Congress shifted parties, our favorite coffee shop closed down, our kids want new video games we’ve never heard of, and a local sports team went from perennial loser to world champion.
read more here

‘Coming home is different from coming back’