Even soldiers have to come home...
My husband has uttered these words more than once these last few weeks...
He is presently contemplating starting the process to file for his disability; effectively ending a law enforcement career he has had for about 26 years.
That's a lifetime.
A lifetime of service. A lifetime of putting his life on the line for others. A lifetime of sacrifice - his physical and mental well-being are now at stake.
Part of the process involves documenting when his condition started. Who knows...it could have been 6 weeks on the job, his first officer involved shooting - he was just a rookie in Columbus, Mississippi, he hadn't even been through the police academy yet.
It could have been any one of a number of homicide investigations that he was involved in - there are countless of them. He admitted to me one day, he tried to count how many there actually were...he couldn't. He could remember the name of every victim, but had no idea how many.
I actually read the police report for one of them tonight - a woman found dead in a tub. I asked him about it, and he briefly explained - details not included in the report - she had been brutally assaulted, her head nearly severed - my husband had been the one to find her body.
Likely it was Columbine High School. He was the team leader on the department's S.W.A.T. unit. They had just finished serving a warrant when they got the call for help from Centennial. I read the report; they secured a wing of the school, looking for survivors, and bombs that had not yet detonated, then going through the cafeteria and the library...
And these are just the incidents that I know about, the ones he has talked to me about. On occasion we have driven through the city and he has made off-handed remarks about cases he's been involved in; a suicide here, a beating there, a murder, a dead child, a drowning, a decapitation, an accident. He never goes into details and tries to be nonchalant about it, but I know better. I can't imagine how many other memories are out there - over 26 years worth.
Like a majority of officers, my husband has PTSD. He's been dealing with it for years - and has sought treatment to begin the healing of his heart and mind. He has used alcohol to cope with the trauma, and has developed an alcohol dependence as a result. Research shows, most officers engage in some sort of risk taking behavior as well as engage in alcoholism and substance abuse. Officers also tend to have higher divorce and suicide rates. My husband has been divorced twice, and I know he has contemplated suicide before. Current research shows that such trauma has a negative impact on the brain, instigating detrimental affects on both the hippocampus and amygdala It's a subject not easily broached in most departments, although attitudes about PTSD are slowly beginning to change.
My husband is a proud man; he was raised in a culture where being a man means fear and failure is unacceptable - to acknowledge his PTSD and alcoholism is a source of embarrassment and weakness. To say the least, these issues have not been easy for him to admit, however, he is beginning to realize it doesn't define him and he will, eventually, overcome it. I'm happy to say he's taken the steps necessary to change this and how it affects his life. After considerable soul searching, he's concluded, if he doesn't get out, and leave this career he has dedicated his life to, it will likely kill him.
Perhaps it's because my father was a WWII veteran that I recognize this pain he tries to hide. My father was involved in combat - they called it shell-shock then. Like my husband, my dad also had a running script for Valium and used alcohol as a coping mechanism. Like my husband, it was something he chose not to discuss. Every now and then it might come up, he may discuss it briefly and then quickly change the subject. I knew instinctively then, as I know now, when to venture, and when to just not go there...
My heart breaks for him. I am incredibly saddened when I think of the pain he's endured, hid, and has tried desperately to numb, to forget. I can't imagine the memories that haunt his nightmares. These last few weeks have been a trial - for him and for me. As he goes through this process of ending a career, his emotions have ranged from rage to severe depression. His alcohol use has peaked during these times, which exacerbates his emotions. I'll admit that one night, it prompted me to leave with my girls and spend the night in a hotel. I know my mother, had similar incidents with my father. As a result of my father's guilt fueled drinking, for surviving and committing acts he doesn't want to remember, she packed up the kids and left for a few days. I understand the dynamic now. As progeny we don't fall far from the proverbial tree.
Being married to a LEO isn't easy. I never anticipated what this would be like. For my part, I must acknowledge, I was naive about it. There is so much I didn't know about PTSD, how much his past still plays such a huge part in our life now. Although through therapy my husband has gained incredible insight to his triggers, is learning to close doors and to develop new coping mechanisms - there is no road map for PTSD like there is for grief. This will always be a part of our life. He could have a flashback or trigger anytime. He hasn't had a drink for almost 3 weeks now, so, to me, he's like a raw weeping wound - dealing with emotions he has never dealt with before. For over 20 years, he has self-medicated the pain, to numb it, even temporarily. I often wonder how his drinking over the years, his means of escape from this pain, has actually disabled him emotionally - how ill equipped he must be to deal with it head on.
I have to give him credit though - he is a WARRIOR - in every sense of the word. I don't know many people willing to go to the deepest, darkest scariest rooms in your worst nightmares to fight those demons.
When I share this, it almost feels like I'm at confession: my husband has PTSD. He uses alcohol to cope. And sometimes, his emotions are so intense, it can be frightening. Every horrific event he has experienced make up scenes to a movie that are constantly replaying in his head. Somehow he has to learn to turn it off.
He and I have often referred to it as law enforcement's "dirty little secret".
It shouldn't be that way.
Officers need support to get through these traumas - not an expectation that they should "man up" and deal with it.
It's a job hazard with too many casualties to count.
I don't think we should feel like we have to hide what we're going through.
I don't want to be ashamed to talk about it. I shouldn't be, and neither should he.
He keeps saying to me he wants to feel normal, he wants to feel like "himself" again. We were discussing it today; everything we've been through over the last year; the horrendous stress from the politics during his stint as interim Chief for his department - to now, beginning this process to end his career.
I told him we still have a long road ahead of us.
He quickly responded, at least we've started on that road and begun the journey.
It's time to go home and regain his life back.
I just want my husband back...I just want him home...
Post-Script: I wrote this over 5 years ago. I never published it out of fear. Fear of repercussions if people knew, fear of judgment mostly. I started back to my blog recently. The ordeal is done and past us now. We walked that road to recovery together - but I know our journey will never be over. I think it's time to put it out there. It's time. My husband has been sober since February 6, 2013 - the day I finally called an ambulance because I was certain he was going to die from alcohol if I didn't. That was one week after I wrote this. I took my children and moved out of the house that day the ambulance came and took him to the hospital to detox, then to West Pines, where he spent a weekend in an inpatient rehab program. Our marriage almost ended. Almost. He has spent the last 5 years working at battling his demons, and I worked on battling mine. He underwent EMDR (Eye Movement Desensitization and Reprocessing) which is a psychotherapy treatment for PTSD. His therapist was a wonderful woman named Carrie who walked with him through the horrors of his mind and got him out the other side. I will always be grateful to her for doing for him what I couldn't. He was in treatment with her for over 4 years, he just finished his last session with her and now only sees her on an as-needed basis. He is as cured as he will ever be. His is a chronic condition, he will never fully recover from his trauma. I will say he is a thousand times better than he ever was. The last 5 years was spent getting to know my husband again. The one who had been biding his time, waiting for his discharge date. We have had to learn how to be a couple again. I had to get to know my husband as a sober man. We had to work on our communication like never before. I had to be patient while he learned to feel and deal with emotions again. Likewise, he has been patient with me while I learned to deal with my past, and worked on forgiveness. It was work on both our parts. So. Much. Hard. Work. And it was worth every fucking minute. I feel fortunate for the trials we have encountered - together. Together, we navigated through this pain and heart ache - and we have both fostered our inner strengths to endure it. For all we've been through, our is an incredibly strong relationship. I am happily married to a man I always knew was there - the one I would see glimpses of through the drinking and the trauma. I can now confidently and proudly say, "My husband is finally home".
He is presently contemplating starting the process to file for his disability; effectively ending a law enforcement career he has had for about 26 years.
That's a lifetime.
A lifetime of service. A lifetime of putting his life on the line for others. A lifetime of sacrifice - his physical and mental well-being are now at stake.
Part of the process involves documenting when his condition started. Who knows...it could have been 6 weeks on the job, his first officer involved shooting - he was just a rookie in Columbus, Mississippi, he hadn't even been through the police academy yet.
It could have been any one of a number of homicide investigations that he was involved in - there are countless of them. He admitted to me one day, he tried to count how many there actually were...he couldn't. He could remember the name of every victim, but had no idea how many.
I actually read the police report for one of them tonight - a woman found dead in a tub. I asked him about it, and he briefly explained - details not included in the report - she had been brutally assaulted, her head nearly severed - my husband had been the one to find her body.
Likely it was Columbine High School. He was the team leader on the department's S.W.A.T. unit. They had just finished serving a warrant when they got the call for help from Centennial. I read the report; they secured a wing of the school, looking for survivors, and bombs that had not yet detonated, then going through the cafeteria and the library...
And these are just the incidents that I know about, the ones he has talked to me about. On occasion we have driven through the city and he has made off-handed remarks about cases he's been involved in; a suicide here, a beating there, a murder, a dead child, a drowning, a decapitation, an accident. He never goes into details and tries to be nonchalant about it, but I know better. I can't imagine how many other memories are out there - over 26 years worth.
Like a majority of officers, my husband has PTSD. He's been dealing with it for years - and has sought treatment to begin the healing of his heart and mind. He has used alcohol to cope with the trauma, and has developed an alcohol dependence as a result. Research shows, most officers engage in some sort of risk taking behavior as well as engage in alcoholism and substance abuse. Officers also tend to have higher divorce and suicide rates. My husband has been divorced twice, and I know he has contemplated suicide before. Current research shows that such trauma has a negative impact on the brain, instigating detrimental affects on both the hippocampus and amygdala It's a subject not easily broached in most departments, although attitudes about PTSD are slowly beginning to change.
My husband is a proud man; he was raised in a culture where being a man means fear and failure is unacceptable - to acknowledge his PTSD and alcoholism is a source of embarrassment and weakness. To say the least, these issues have not been easy for him to admit, however, he is beginning to realize it doesn't define him and he will, eventually, overcome it. I'm happy to say he's taken the steps necessary to change this and how it affects his life. After considerable soul searching, he's concluded, if he doesn't get out, and leave this career he has dedicated his life to, it will likely kill him.
Perhaps it's because my father was a WWII veteran that I recognize this pain he tries to hide. My father was involved in combat - they called it shell-shock then. Like my husband, my dad also had a running script for Valium and used alcohol as a coping mechanism. Like my husband, it was something he chose not to discuss. Every now and then it might come up, he may discuss it briefly and then quickly change the subject. I knew instinctively then, as I know now, when to venture, and when to just not go there...
My heart breaks for him. I am incredibly saddened when I think of the pain he's endured, hid, and has tried desperately to numb, to forget. I can't imagine the memories that haunt his nightmares. These last few weeks have been a trial - for him and for me. As he goes through this process of ending a career, his emotions have ranged from rage to severe depression. His alcohol use has peaked during these times, which exacerbates his emotions. I'll admit that one night, it prompted me to leave with my girls and spend the night in a hotel. I know my mother, had similar incidents with my father. As a result of my father's guilt fueled drinking, for surviving and committing acts he doesn't want to remember, she packed up the kids and left for a few days. I understand the dynamic now. As progeny we don't fall far from the proverbial tree.
Being married to a LEO isn't easy. I never anticipated what this would be like. For my part, I must acknowledge, I was naive about it. There is so much I didn't know about PTSD, how much his past still plays such a huge part in our life now. Although through therapy my husband has gained incredible insight to his triggers, is learning to close doors and to develop new coping mechanisms - there is no road map for PTSD like there is for grief. This will always be a part of our life. He could have a flashback or trigger anytime. He hasn't had a drink for almost 3 weeks now, so, to me, he's like a raw weeping wound - dealing with emotions he has never dealt with before. For over 20 years, he has self-medicated the pain, to numb it, even temporarily. I often wonder how his drinking over the years, his means of escape from this pain, has actually disabled him emotionally - how ill equipped he must be to deal with it head on.
I have to give him credit though - he is a WARRIOR - in every sense of the word. I don't know many people willing to go to the deepest, darkest scariest rooms in your worst nightmares to fight those demons.
When I share this, it almost feels like I'm at confession: my husband has PTSD. He uses alcohol to cope. And sometimes, his emotions are so intense, it can be frightening. Every horrific event he has experienced make up scenes to a movie that are constantly replaying in his head. Somehow he has to learn to turn it off.
He and I have often referred to it as law enforcement's "dirty little secret".
It shouldn't be that way.
Officers need support to get through these traumas - not an expectation that they should "man up" and deal with it.
It's a job hazard with too many casualties to count.
I don't think we should feel like we have to hide what we're going through.
I don't want to be ashamed to talk about it. I shouldn't be, and neither should he.
He keeps saying to me he wants to feel normal, he wants to feel like "himself" again. We were discussing it today; everything we've been through over the last year; the horrendous stress from the politics during his stint as interim Chief for his department - to now, beginning this process to end his career.
I told him we still have a long road ahead of us.
He quickly responded, at least we've started on that road and begun the journey.
It's time to go home and regain his life back.
I just want my husband back...I just want him home...
Post-Script: I wrote this over 5 years ago. I never published it out of fear. Fear of repercussions if people knew, fear of judgment mostly. I started back to my blog recently. The ordeal is done and past us now. We walked that road to recovery together - but I know our journey will never be over. I think it's time to put it out there. It's time. My husband has been sober since February 6, 2013 - the day I finally called an ambulance because I was certain he was going to die from alcohol if I didn't. That was one week after I wrote this. I took my children and moved out of the house that day the ambulance came and took him to the hospital to detox, then to West Pines, where he spent a weekend in an inpatient rehab program. Our marriage almost ended. Almost. He has spent the last 5 years working at battling his demons, and I worked on battling mine. He underwent EMDR (Eye Movement Desensitization and Reprocessing) which is a psychotherapy treatment for PTSD. His therapist was a wonderful woman named Carrie who walked with him through the horrors of his mind and got him out the other side. I will always be grateful to her for doing for him what I couldn't. He was in treatment with her for over 4 years, he just finished his last session with her and now only sees her on an as-needed basis. He is as cured as he will ever be. His is a chronic condition, he will never fully recover from his trauma. I will say he is a thousand times better than he ever was. The last 5 years was spent getting to know my husband again. The one who had been biding his time, waiting for his discharge date. We have had to learn how to be a couple again. I had to get to know my husband as a sober man. We had to work on our communication like never before. I had to be patient while he learned to feel and deal with emotions again. Likewise, he has been patient with me while I learned to deal with my past, and worked on forgiveness. It was work on both our parts. So. Much. Hard. Work. And it was worth every fucking minute. I feel fortunate for the trials we have encountered - together. Together, we navigated through this pain and heart ache - and we have both fostered our inner strengths to endure it. For all we've been through, our is an incredibly strong relationship. I am happily married to a man I always knew was there - the one I would see glimpses of through the drinking and the trauma. I can now confidently and proudly say, "My husband is finally home".
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