Perspectives

From One Miltary Wife to Another: A Thanksgiving Thank-You

2009-11-25T00:46:00.003-06:00

     Thanksgiving is now just a few days away. My menu has been finalized, and I have been busy prepping food, picking up last minute items, and planning the day's events. As my fingers are busy chopping and cutting, I find my thoughts wandering to the weeks ahead. I am not looking forward to the heartache, the lonely nights, and the long months of separation. I know what my daughter's reaction will be, and I feel helpless and saddended because, for once, I can't fix the situation. The mommy in me desperately wants to fix it; I would give anything to be able to wave a fairy wand. I know what she wants,which is to stay in our home, and I know that I can't give it to her. I try to be as reassuring, positive, and sympathetic as can be, but from her perspective, there is no consolation, no replacement, no substitutes. My heart breaks and breaks, but if anyone observed me, they would see only sunshine and a smile.
     I have learned to swallow and stamp down and bury my emotions deep. This is my survival mode, my personal deployment gear; it is a coping mechanism that becomes the military wife's protective armour. How else am I to stay strong, to stay steady, to stay solid? I have to be the rock that my child can cling to, that my husband can rely on while in battlefield. It is a tremendous load, and it is not an easy one to carry. My tears are not for public display, but for private moments, when I am alone and unguarded. I cannot be so openly vulnerable, so exposed, when I know that I am already so fragile. I wonder how many other wives employ similiar methods. I wonder, too, why some are so blind and can't see the obvious.
     I am dreading the final moments at the airport; I've been there once, and I don't know if I can handle it again. I'm going to have to take the last embrace, the farewell kiss, the soft words spoken and make them stretch like a canvas. I'm going to have paint those moments permanently onto my imagination, because once he's gone, that's all I have left to hold. Worry, fear, and anxiety are calling my name, beckoning me to befriend them. But, I reject them coldly and callously; while I can't eliminate their presence altogether, I don't have to keep constant company with them either.
      I have to move forward, to go on tending to the daily routines of life. It is not easy to become a single parent with no partner or help-mate overnight. I make a very poor substitute for Daddy and will never be the playmate that only he can be. It is not easy to go from being part of a couple to being single; you wake up expecting to see his face and are confronted with a cold pillow, instead. It is not easy to wait and to wonder, to have your hopes pinned on random phone calls, sporadic emails, and slow snail-mail. It is not easy to comfort and care for a child who is pining for her parent. It is not easy to watch a child suffer from the anxiety and stress that deployment creates.
      But, I find, that my role as a military wife is to make it look easy, even when it is not. That is the job I must do, my contribution in the war against terror. I pay a huge personal price and make silent sacrifices to support my husband's service; but even so, it is the most misunderstood and under-appreciated role to be found. There is an old saying. "If the military wanted you to have a wife, they'd issue one." Another similiar saying, "The military doesn't issue a wife." While I can appreciate the humor, I find the sentiments conveyed derogatory and disrespectful to all military wives. I think a better quote would be, "What do you think makes a husband's service even possible? The loving support of his wife."
      So, as I celebrate Thanksgiving, I will pause and take a moment and take a breath. I am grateful to have this moment of relative peace to prepare for the malestrom ahead.  I am thankful, that, even though deployment is challenging and difficult, it is temporary and does end. So, even as my heart breaks and I begin to worry and wonder, I am thankful that I am strong, capable, and able to deal with what lies ahead. I may bend, my strength may be sapped, my heart may be heavy, but I am thankful, because I know I won't break. I am especially thankful that, when I can't, I have a loving Father who will carry and strengthen me, instead. I am thankful that I have friends and family who do listen and are understanding, even if they don't fully grasp what is to be part of a military family. I am thankful, too, for my husband, and for the life we have made together. I am thankful for my daughter, for the way her sweet smile lights up any room. And, I am thankful to all the men and women who serve in our armed forces; but, I am also thankful to the many wives who quietly add their own brand of support and service. We are a band of sisters, and I am thankful to those whom I can call friends.  I am thankful for the instant family you've become- the substitute sister, the comrade-in-arms, the adopted auntie. I am thankful, too, for my girlfriends and sisters, whose love and friendship has never severed or waivered, even across thousands of miles. I am thankful that I have amazing women in my life, as mothers, mentors, friends, and colleagues. I am thankful for the support, help, guidance, acceptance, stories, laughter, and tears we've shared. My experiences lead me to believe that military wives serve, too, and I am thankful for the opportunities that fufilling this special role brings.  Happy Thanksgiving!

Half-Empty or Half-Full: A Matter of Contentment

2009-11-14T14:29:00.000-06:00

      Thanksgiving is just around the corner, a mere two weeks away. If you are like me, some of you have been purusing menus and are busying making plans and preparations. Thanksgiving this year is going to be focused on our family, a simple celebration of togetherness. I find myself reflecting and listing all that makes me grateful, which, despite the clouds on my horizon, I can easily do. Creating a running list helps me stay positive in a period of great upheaval and emotional turmoil. Whenever I feel shadows of doubt, fear, and anxiety swirling at my feet, threatening to engulf me, I close my eyes and read my list. I feel at ease and at peace, even though my circumstances contradict my feelings. Which leads me to wonder- why can't we all be content?
      Why is enough never enough, and why are we, as a society, always in pusuit of more? I hear echoes of want and desire in conversations, and I see underlying causes of loneliness, depression, jealously, and personal unhappiness all around me. I want to lovingly shake people to awareness, to open their eyes to the beauty and goodness that abounds around them. I see prayers answered, dreams fufilled, wishes granted. For some, rather then be content, they're off looking for the next miracle, the next great whatever that will fill a need or a void.
   I, too, have been and still am guilty of such behavior and antics. I am ambitious, perfectionist, and always striving for for excellence. And, there is nothing wrong with being driven or wanting to be better or wanting a little more. The problem arises when personal drive blinds one to the blessings that have already been provided. I have not always thought like this; perhaps facing family seperation and deployment has opened my eyes to my own personal blessings. Maybe, I am just trying to delay facing the inevitable. Or, maybe, by burying my emotions under a mountain of positive thinking, I am using my mental list as a defense mechanism and a useful coping skill. Maybe, I've just been bitten by the holiday bug a little early and am full of peace and goodwill to all. I will admit, that somedays, my emotions bounce all over, and I don't know if I am being realistic, practical, or in denial. I think it's a matter of personal perspective, the answer to that old question: "Is the glass half-empty or half-full?"
     So, in the spirit of Thanksgiving, I choose to say that my glass is half-full. Yes, my beloved is heading to a war zone in less then a month. Yes, I am taking my daughter from the comforts of all that gives her a sense of belonging and familiarity. Yes, in the months ahead of me, I am required to walk through a dark valley and face personal storm clouds. I know that no manner of positive thinking will banish the clouds or put a stop to my journey; however, positive thoughts will make the road and burdens ahead a little easier to bear. As a photographer and an artist, I can also appreciate the beauty that can only be found while walking through a valley. Sometimes, the shadows can be oppressive, depressing, and overbearing, but even so, soft, dappled light still filters through them. If one looks, one can find the still, quiet beauty that only the valley affords.
    And, so rather then ask why or why not, I am content to be here in the moment, to pause in my life's pursuits and reflect. I am content to enjoy what time I have left with my spouse. I am content with the opportunity moving brings, and I am content with my situation. I am content to pause in my pursuit for more and to be grateful and happy with what I already have. A loving husband who supports my artistic endeavors, who challenges and inspires me. A beautiful daughter whose laughter and love is a source of motivation and inspiration. Friends and family who love me as I am, flaws included. A home, even though temporary, that is filled with items and objects that give me comfort and joy.   So, I ask you, not what you are thankful for this year, but rather, what is it that you have that you makes you content?

Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD): A Christmas Love Story

2009-11-10T00:56:00.000-06:00

When my husband returned from his first deployment, I was amazed at how well adjusted he seemed to be. I was warned by other spouses to be on the look-out for PTSD; one told me that her husband got up in the middle of the night because he had to "check the perimeter". He would literally walk the grounds of their home and conduct sweeps throughout their house. They even shared a laugh, when "on duty", he accidentally set off their house alarm, bringing cops to the scene. But while I was warned, I didn't know much about the disorder and trusted that I would be able to read the signs.
   We did have a very warm, loving, happy reunion, but not without hitting some bumps and bruises. It did take a few months to fully reintroduce ourselves and adjust to each other again. Once we had settled down and found our balance, life seemed to be on an even keel. His commander even met with him, to discuss PTSD and to ask how he was doing. She did warn that sometimes symptoms may not appear until months after being home; she was absolutely correct.
     Several months after my husband returned from Iraq, he became noticeably withdrawn, moody, and depressed. Sometimes, he would get angry and verbally blow up over minor issues; he had a hard time focusing and concentrating. He seemed to be emotionally detached and behaved like he prefered the single life of the bachelorhood he had enjoyed during deployment to that of married life. I was deeply hurt and confused by the changes I saw in my mild-manored man. I was also afraid to delve into the issues, afraid to push for answers, afraid of what he saw and experienced in Iraq. He seemed to prefer it that way, too, and he placed emotional barriers between us, interacting with me more like a friend then a wife. I wanted to know what had happened to my wonderful, gentle, loving husband; the man who he became resembled no one I knew.
      Christmas was the straw that pushed us right to the edge. Our little family celebrates all of the holidays with fan-fare, fun, and stylish flare. Of all the holidays, Christmas is the one we've come to love the most. Our house is decked out and trimmed, trees fill multiple rooms, decorations abound both inside and outside the home.  The scents of my baking, the sound of laughter, and Christmas music fills our home from November 27, to January 12.  My husband is usually just as enthused and eager to decorate, create, and celebrate as I am. But that Christmas, he was not himself; he seemed to be lost, and all joy was gone. For our child's sake, he participated as best as he could, but I knew something was amiss. My heart was breaking and aching, for him, for me, for my child. He had come home, but pieces of the war in Iraq came back with him, violating the sanctuary of our home. I don't remember the details of what set it off or even what was said; all I remember is that, on Christmas Eve, we engaged in what I hope is the first and last worst argument of our marriage to date.
    After the heat had died down, we managed to pull ourselves together to attend the Christmas Eve service. There in the church, we were reminded of all that we value and cherish in each other and our family. With our faces lit only by candlelight, my husband and I stole a glance at each other that conveyed all that words weren't meant to say. Our hands brushed each other behind our little girl's back, and my husband's hand wrapped around mine.   Sitting there, by the beautiful Nativity scene, singing the traditional carols, warmed by glow of the Advent candles, I knew that our family was saved and that we were going to get through this dark valley.  My eyes slid to the creche Christ-child, and I was reminded of the promise His birth brought. My hope was restored, and I knew that our faith, our love for each other, our committment to our family would be a source of light in a brief, dark moment.
     That Christmas morning was one of the most joyful, meaningful mornings I've had. "Joy cometh in the morning" was the song my heart sang. Forgiveness, restoration, peace, hope, well-being, and health were ours. Not without work, not without stumbling now and then, but with understanding, empathy, communication, and support. My husband did seek and obtain held from a professional. I am happy to report that the therapy was just what he needed, and all is well. Every deployment and reunion is different; I don't what experiences will be brought back or what to expect when he returns from his second tour. I now know that the behavior my husband exhibited are part of the signs and symptoms of PTSD. And, now that I know what to look for, hopefully, I'll be a little wiser and a little more prepared for PTSD, should it occur again

PTSD Defined-Post traumatic stress disorder is an anxiety disorder that occurs when one is exposed to or directly involved in traumatic events, including terrorist attacks, witnessing death, violent crimes, experiencing traumatic natural events, such as tornados or hurricanes, military combat, and severe auto accidents. PTSD can occur at any age,and children who experience trauma can have PTSD, though the onset and symptoms will differ from adults. PTSD can be expressed in a variety of ways. Generally, one can expect PTSD to suface three to six months after the event.The best treatment for PTSD is cognitive, behavorial therapy, (talk therapy). Symptoms can occur months after the traumatic event, and military members are a high-risk group for PTSD, because of the war in Iraq and Afghanistan and the frequent, long, durations of deployment to a combat zone. The military has a number of resources available for families and service members coping with PTSD. If your loved one has signs or symptoms, encourage your servicemeber to go to Behavorial Health Center for treatment. With proper treatment, PTSD can be temporary and does not have to disrupt one's life permanently.

    Signs and Symptoms of PTSD- Including but not limited to:

          Reliving/ Rewinding the event over and over again

          Dreaming/ Having Flashbacks about the event

         Emotional Detachment/Avoidance

         Loss of Interest in Life/Previously Enjoyed Activities

         Feeling Numb/Edgy/On Alert

         Not Being Able to Sleep

         Lack of Focus/Concentration

         Trouble with Relationships ( Work, family, friends)

         Developing an Addiction (Alcohol, drugs, substance abuse)

         Acts of Aggession (Road Rage, Uncontrollable Outbursts)

If you or a loved one experiences any three or more of these symptoms for more then three weeks, seek medical assistance!

If you or your loved one expresses thoughts of killing yourself of hurting others, seek immediate medical assistance!

To learn more about PTSD, the signs and symptoms, and how to help,click the resources below.

References and Resources:

Mental Health Today. (November 2009) Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder DSM IV-Diagnosis & Criteria. Retrieved from:
http://www.mental-health-today.com/ptsd/dsm.htm

Mental Health Today. (November 2009) Post Traumatic Stress Disorder Symptoms. Retrieved from:
http://www.mental-health-today.com/ptsd/symptoms.htm

Munsey, Christopher. (October 2009) Monitor on Psychology. (Vol. 40, Nu. 9). Writing about Wounds.
Retrieved from:
http://www.apa.org/monitor/2009/10/writing-stress.html

National Center for PTSD. (June 2009) Returning from the War Zone: A Guide for Families of Military Members. Retrieved from:
http://www.ptsd.va.gov/public/reintegration/guide-pdf/FamilyGuide.pdf

National Center for PTSD. (May 2007) National Center for PTSD Fact Sheet: Frequently Asked Questions. Retrieved from:
http://ncptsd.va.gov/ncmain/ncdocs/fact_shts/fs_faqs_on_ptsd.html

National Institute of Mental Health, US Dept. of Health and Human Services, Institutes of Health. (November 2009). Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD). Retrieved from:http://www.nimh.nih.gov/health/publications/post-traumatic-stress-disorder-ptsd/nimh_ptsd_booklet.pdf

Russel, Laura, PhD. (November 2009) Post Traumatic Stress Disorder Therapist Archive, Questions and Answers. Retrieved from:
http://www.mental-health-today.com/ptsd/ptsdther/

Of Butterflies and Tulips

2009-11-05T18:07:00.000-06:00

        Photography is a lesson in patience, timing, and opportunity. My tulip and butterfly shots are perfect examples of making the most of a brief moment. The first occured late in the afternoon, when for a period of twenty to forty minutes, the sunlight was natural, filtered, soft, and dappled. It is my most favorite lighting to shoot in and to work with. The drawback is, that when the light is like this, I have to work fast, because it doesn't last.   I had to arrange and rearrange the flowers, shift the background, and read the lighting, all within a short period of time. When trying to create a gorgeous composition, each second and split-decision matters.
      Shooting the butterfly was all about observation and timing.  The plants over which the butterflies were hovering weren't beautiful. They were simple garden weeds, lying at the base of paddock fences. Gardners would rip these flowers from their beds and most passing by wouldn't notice them.  To photograph the butterfly, I had to choose an area with lots of flowers and wait, and wait, and wait. In my first attempts, I moved from clump to clump. I quickly learned that, as soon I moved from one clump to another,sure enough, a butterfly would land on the one I had walked away from in impatience. Impatience cost me an opportunity or what would have been a great piece. Waiting and observation seemed to be the recipe, in this set-up, for getting a great shot.
      It is said that life often imitates art; I find this especially relevent to my life. My current circumstances require me to be patient, observant, and open to opportunity. A friend of my recently shared with me that she was amazed how cheerful I am, despite facing deployment, a move, and relocation. She said that she sees that I just celebrate and live in the moment. She shared that I was inspiring her and challenging her to find joy in the everyday.
       I was deeply touched, but a little taken aback, because I don't view myself in those terms. Cheerful? Me? I think maybe a more appropriate sentiment would be pratical. I thanked my friend, but I confessed that any strength, patience, or cheerfulness came not from me, but from God above. You see, I am not patient by nature; I am an A-line personality who wants things done yesterday and done well and done properly. I know my personal weaknesses and my flaws; I just work everyday to overcome them. More importantly, I have a set of young eyes that are looking to me as a role model, absorbing my cues and my emotional vibes.
       Truth? I am not overly thrilled with any of my circumstances. If I could change any of them, from my husband's leaving for deployment, to moving, to being without family, I would. But, the facts are that I can't change my circumstances; what I can control is how I respond to the situations. Yes, I've cried; I've been anxious and worried and down. And, I own those feelings of sadness; I would be a heartless wretch if I didn't have them. However, I refuse to let the dark clouds hover for too long. I have my cry, take a deep breath, and move on with the tasks at hand. I choose to be cheerful, cheerfully resigned, perhaps, but positive none-the-less.
    For I know, just as when working with filtered light or photographing butterflies, I have to make the most of each opportunity as it comes. I haven't always been so accepting or so patient; I have my regrets, made plenty mistakes, and burned too many bridges. But, like a butterfly, I hope I've evolved and grown as I've matured. So, I choose to celebrate today. I also choose to make my move as positive and as fun of an adventure as it can be for myself and my child. When friends and family ask me how will we live in a home with no belongings? Or, what will I do, if, when my husband comes home, and our house hasn't sold? I respond, "I don't know- I'm not there yet." What I do know is that the yesterday can't be replayed, tommorrow isn't here yet, and today is what needs tending to and needs my attention. And, I also know, that whatever happens, God's timing, the moment, the opportunity will be just what I need. All I need is to be patient, aware, and cheerfully resigned.

The Impact Deployment has on Children and How You Can Help

2009-10-28T00:00:00.000-05:00

    When my husband deployed for the first time, I will admit here and now that I was woefully unprepared and niave. If you were to ask others who know our family to describe me, one word that might pop up would be strong; another one might be independent. While I appreciate the votes of confidence, I learned that I was not immune to the negative effects or impacts partners and parents face during deployment. I also learned that my daugther was not immune, either, and her emotional well-being suffered. The first few weeks, she lost all appetite and practically stopped eating. This was the one time I broke all bars and let her eat whatever she wanted, just to get food into her system. Through discussions with other military spouses, more veteran than I, I learned that children whose parents deploy often endure anxiety, depression, behavioral changes, and withdrawl. As the deployment progressed, my daughter's mental health slowly declined. When my child's adverse symptoms showed no signs of dissapearing, I sought medical intervention. With the help of a great medical team and family and friends, I worked to keep my child as emotionally healthy as possible. We created an action plan and strategies targeted at helping her cope. I have since spent a great deal of time researching how to help children during deployment. Though the issue of deployment and its impact on military children is in need of much futher study, I will share my findings, hoping that other parents and caregivers can benefit.

    First and foremost:
        As a parent, you are not to blame. Your child's anxiety, depression, acting-out, etc. is not the result of bad, or even good, parenting. Neither is it the fault of the service member whose job requires deployment and periods of seperation. It is very hard not to blame yourself, not to feel guilty, and not to feel like you have poor parenting skills.You are not alone in thinking this way; however, you should know that children of all ages react and respond to deployment and other seperations, just in different manners.

Facts:

Not all children respond to deployment in the same manner.
Children are not resilient, rubber-bands, that just bounce back from bad experiences.
Just because they are young, children, even babies, are not immune to emotions.
Children often lack the sophistication to verbalize feelings and emotions.
Even though they can't verbalize emotions, they have feelings, some feel more deeply then others.
It is natural for children to respond negatively to major life changes, especially deployment.
Children often respond to and mimic the stress, emotions, and anxiety displayed around them.
Spouses, particularly women, suffer a loss of well-being and mental health during deployment.
Parents well-being, emotional, and mental health do have a direct impact on their children.
It is not your fault when, due to deployment, a child needs medical intervention or help.
Seeking help is neither a sign of weakness nor a sign of inherent family problems.
Seeking help, when needed, is what smart, caring parents or caregivers do.

Symptons and Warning Signs:

Loss of appetite
Socially withdrawing from previously enjoyed activities
Reverting to out-grown/earlier childhood behaviors (Ie: bed wetting)
Change in Sleep Patterns (waking up throughout the night or sleeping excessively)
Mood Swings/Changes in Personality
Night Terrors
Hair Loss/Excessive Nail Biting
Changes in Behavior at School (cutting, getting into fights, failing to finish assignments, etc)
Cutting (frequent among older adolescents and teens; cutters physically cut themselves with sharp objects as a way to seek relief from anxiety through pain.)
Drug Use or other Delinquent Behaviors
Overwhelming Feelings of Loss, Sadness, Loneliness, Loss of Control

If any of these symptoms occur for more then two weeks, please seek medical help!

In older children, suicidal thoughts and suicidal attempts are possible, especially among girls.

If your child expresses thoughts of suicide or hurting himself or others, seek help immediately!

The list I've provided is not comprehensive, nor I am suggesting that just because a parent is deployed, your child will have any or all of these symptons. Children do suffer from bouts of anxiety and depression; this posting isn't meant to delve into these issues, but to serve as a general guidline of what to look for as your child reacts to family seperation and deployment. You know your child best; your careful observations and monotoring should tell you when assistance is needed.

Now that you know what some of the warning signs and symptoms are, you should also know what you can do as a parent to help your child cope. First, openly and honestly communicate with your child about the upcoming deployment. Listen to what your child has to say, but don't press the issue if he or she doesn't want to talk about it. Enlist the help of family and friends before, during, and a little after deployment to help provide your child with distractions. A close friend or family member can be another ear to talk to about issues. Find out how your child best expresses his or her feelings and provide them with the material and means to do so. A journal or a sketch-book are great and simple ways for children to vent their feelings.

Engage your child in projects that help keep him or her connected to the deployed parent. Stick to your family's routines and rules; deployment is not the time to try new methods of discipline. Don't let your child have whatever he or she wants because you feel guilty or are wanting to be sympathetic; maintain whatever structures and boundaries you have. Communicate with your children's caregivers, teachers, coaches, close friends and family about the deployment. Let them know your concerns and ask them to be another set of eyes and ears to monitor your child's reactions. Find and take advantage of whatever community resources are offered for children of deployed parents. Family Readiness may have local information. When all else fails and when symptoms don't dissapear, take your child to the doctor's for professional help.

References:

After Deployment. (October 2009). (Interactive, self-check quiz). How Much Do You Know About Kids and Deployment?. Retrieved from http://afterdeployment.org/index2.php?cid=s109_0500

American Academy of Child and Adolescent Psychiatry. (May 2008) The Depressed Child. Facts for Families, No. 4. Retrieved from
http://www.aacap.org/page.ww?section=Facts for Families&name=The Depressed Child

American Academy of Child and Adolescent Psychiatry. (July 2009)  When to Seek Help for Your Child. Facts for Families, No. 24. Retrieved from
http://www.aacap.org/page.ww?section=Facts for Families&name=When To Seek Help For Your Child

American Academy of Child and Adolescent Psychiatry. (May 2008). Teen Suicide. Facts for Families, No. 10. Retrieved from
        http://www.aacap.org/page.ww?section=Facts for Families&name=Teen Suicide

Disaster Response Education and Training Project, A Program of Uniformed Services University, Our Nations Federal Medical Schools (October 2009) Stress Management for Parents. Bethesda, MD. Retrieved from
  http://www.cstsonline.org/csts_items/CSTS_stress_management_parents.pdf

DeNoon, Daniel J. (October 2009) Recognizing Childhood Depression and Anxiety. WebMD. Retrieved from
http://www.webmd.com/anxiety-panic/guide/recognizing-childhood-depression-anxiety

MacDermid, Shelly M., Sampler, Rita., Schwartz, Rona., Nishida, Jacob.,and Nyaronga, Dan. (July 2008)Understanding and Promoting Resilience in Military Families. Military Family Research Insitute at Purdue University, West Lafayette, IN. Retrieved from
http://www.mfri.purdue.edu/content/Reports/Understanding%20and%20Promoting%20Resilience.pdf

Substance Abuse and Mental Health Services Administration. (September 2005). Tips for Talking
To Children After a Disaster: A Guide for Parents and Teachers. Retrieved from http://mentalhealth.samhsa.gov/disasterrelief/publications/allpubs/tips/parent_teach.pdf

Uniformed Services University of Health Sciences. (October 2009) Courage to Care: Helping Children Cope During Deployment. Bethesda, MD.   Retrieved from
http//www.cstsonline.org/csts_items/CTC_children_helping_during_deployment.pdf#search=

Uniformed Services, University of Health Services (October 2009) Courage to Care: What Military Families Should Know About Depression, Bethesda, MD. Retrieved from
http://www.cstsonline.org/csts_items/CTC_depression_family_sheet.pdf

A Simple Thanks Will Do

2009-10-26T23:02:00.000-05:00

    How many times have you been out and about in your community and have seen a service member in uniform? Did you stop and thank him or her for serving our country? Rather odd subject, isn't it? I am a military brat whose father is a very, proud, retired Marine. You know the saying, "Once a Marine- always a Marine." In my dad's case, that quote suits him like a fitted glove. Growing up, my dad made it a point to stop every service member he ever saw to thank them for their service. It didn't matter where we were; he could be ordering at McDonald's, and if a service member was anywhere in the vincinity, he would engage him or her in conversation. The only time my dad refrained from this activity was when we were on an actual base. As a teen, I most certainly did not appreciate my dad's enthusiasm and overt gestures. I remember trying to hide, cringing, when my dad pulled me forward to introduce me to his newest, best, military, bud- of all five minutes. Growing up, I swore I would never, ever marry a military man. And, true to my word, I didn't.  My husband joined the military after we were married, much to my father's delight.   It wasn't until after I was grown and married that my dad's earlier lessons hit home.
    I know what some of you are thinking. These men and women volunteer, so why should I bother to thank them? You're right; the armed forces is currently an all-volunteer army. No one forced or drafted or threatened any of the members into service. Our government does not madate or conscript citizens into the military; you can thank a service member for making that partly possible. Every service member who volunteers and enters into service makes it possible for another citizen to choose a different path. Our government does require that males between eighteen and twenty-six register with Selective Service. Registration doesn't equate to being drafted; times of war, which we have been in for quite some time, do not even mean that a draft is likely to happen.
     The reasons for choosing to serve are as varied and complex as the branches the armed forces. Regardless of the reason, serving our country is a noble, honorable, profession. I am quite proud, not just of my husband's service, but of all who serve, past and present. And, yes, it is a personal choice, but that does not make service easy. The military is unique, unlike any other career field; it's members have no choice or control or say on where they work, the area where they live, what their hours are, whether they can take an extended lunch hour. You can't turn your over your badge, hand over your gun, transfer to another district or to another department. There is no telling your boss "no"; you may not like your orders, but you go when and how you are told. You can't just quit or walk-out or resign; you can try, but you will suffer serious repurcussions.
    Do you think, given a choice, that my husband or any other member, would willingly go to Iraq or Afghanistan? It's their job, their duty, and so they go- proudly, honorably, and to the best of their ability. But again, just because they choose to serve, the choice itself is not easy. They endure long seperations from family and friends. They go without many everyday comforts that we at home take for granted. They face down death; they get shot and wounded. They loose limbs, are maimed and scarred for life. They endure physical, emotional, and psychological hardships that civilians will never know, never trully understand. Some of our brave men and women never even make it safely home. Most would volunteer to do it all over again, no questions asked, no hesitancy. Don't believe me? Take a stroll down Walter Reed Army Hospital and visit with our recovering wounded. Their enthusiasm and courage will inspire you and leave you breathless.
     It is their committment to service, their volunteering to serve, their choice that helps to keep us safe. All of us- right, left, independent, anti-government, pro-government, religious, atheist, whatever your label, whatever your background, whatever your color. Our military works to keep us safe from harm, to keep terrorism at bay, to protect the freedoms we have and enjoy and just take for granted. Knowing that they've volunteered, our service members never expect public thanks or public displays of gratitude. I know now the importance of the lesson my dad taught me all those years ago. Now, he isn't the only one who stops a soldier to say thanks. I've seen the hardest, most weather-beaten, leather-faced, scouling soldier break into a smile brighter then the brightest Christmas tree just because I've stopped to say, "Thank you for serving our country." The next time you see one out and about in your community, take a moment and offer a simple thanks. You never know; you could be thanking my husband or some other soldier far from home.

Want v/s Need

2009-10-24T16:14:00.000-05:00

The term want has been bantered around recently during many conversations with friends and family. Bring up the subject of deployment, and the word want is soon bound to follow.  As in, "What do I want to do while my husband is deployed?" Webster's New World College Dictionary defines want as "to feel the need of; long for; crave" and also "to desire; wish". If the question weren't so serious, it would laughable. What do I want? Hmm, Let's see: A million dollars, grad school, to be published, one of my pieces hung in a gallery, better yet- to own a gallery- and a fairy godmother to make it all come true! Truth? I want to go home! I want to go home! I WANT to go home! I want to take my child and go home to be with my family and friends. I'm neither running away nor running to Mom and Dad with my tail between my legs. It's just I don't have anything to tie me down or keep me in my present locale. As it happens, we're moving to our new duty station within weeks of my husband returning from Iraq. In preparation for the move, our entire household furnishings are going to be packed up sometime in December. Our new home will be near our family and friends. By going home, I had wanted to scope out the area, check out the local schools, find a residence, and maybe, hopefully, land a job. Also, by being closer to grandparents, aunts, uncles and cousins, I would be able to provide stability and neccessary distractions for my child. However, let me ask you: How often does one get what one really, trully wants in life? If one were to answer honestly- the answer would be not very often at all.
   And, so it is with us. Nearly after a month of announcing my plans to head home, which caused a ripple of excitement in my little world, I am faced with having to send a retraction. What I want is not what I need.  The same Webster's dictionary defines need as "necessity or obligation created by some situation." Like lots of other military families around the country, we're stuck in the situation of owning a home we can't sell. The area where the house is located has been severely hit by the economy, job loss, and a bad housing market. For the past three months, we've been carrying the burden of two households, two sets of utility bills, and two sets of maintenance bills. When I first informed my family of plans to go home, I honestly thought that our home would have sold. We had to relocate a few years back, just as the housing bubble burst. We were fortunate enough to rent it, even though being an out-of-state landlord is difficult. In anticipation of our upcoming move, we placed the home on the market, hoping that we could start life in our new place free and clear of the burden. As it is, it has neither sold nor rented, and with the upcoming holidays, I don't foresee occupancy anytime soon. I also don't see the point of paying a mortgage on empty home when we could be living in it. Despite what I want, what I need is to return to the decimated area and to reside in our former house.
     This new reality has been a bitter pill to swallow. My child is devastated; she wants to be with her family, and I can't blame her. I can't really argue her logic, because I agree. I can't even imagine living in the home, without my husband, without the benefits of being near family. We're talking a difference of thousands of miles and a flight v/s only an hour's drive away. I try to plot how long we will be there; I try to picture how we will live in the now empty home, with practically everything we own sitting in storage. All I visualize is a blank screen with white fuzz and a blury question mark. I wonder, if, when my husband returns, we will have to live apart for a while, until the market picks up again.
    I suppose one could argue that we got ourselves into this mess, that being a military family we should have never bought a home. First, we bought well before housing prices sky rocketed. Second, we could have never predicted that we would have to move out of the area only two years after buying. We also never predicted that our home would not sell. If the brightest and best financial minds could not have predicted the bust- how could we have known? Spare me your criticisms, because what's done is done. But, why am I even explaining any of this? We simply made the best decision we could, at the time, based on the information we had. That's why hindsight is 20/20. Now, I just have to make the best of a sour situation.
   So, so be it. So, I go back to my beautiful empty home. So, I don't have family nearby. So, my daughter doesn't have any playmates. So, I don't get to hang out with my sisters or my girlfriends. That's o.k.; we'll be o.k. I don't know what purpose going back to our former residence has, but as sure as the sun shines, I know there must be a reason. I don't know why my home hasn't sold; I could spend my time blaming a number of reasons, but to what point or purpose?
   Here's what I do have: a beautiful beach to enjoy. A hospital and great doctors readily available, especially in the event of an emergency. Friends who love me like family, whose company I can enjoy for a little while. No snow or ice or harsh winter weather to fight. I can't even tell you how much I hate cold weather; temperatures under sixty degrees makes my teeth chatter. Right now, I have acquaintances who are dealing with life-threatening  illness, others who have lost their jobs and their only source of income, still others who have lost even their home.  I consider myself blessed to have access to good health care, to have a husband whose job is secure, and to still own the house that we've fought tooth and nail to keep. So, I have to alter my plans a little. So, my daughter and I will become a fierce duo who will have adventures making an empty shell into a comfy little nest. When the time does come for me to go home, hopefully, I'll go home tan with a little, natural, highlights in my hair. And, you know what? Trully, it is o.k.

The Invisible Clock

2009-10-23T09:28:00.000-05:00

    Do you know what it is to live with an invisible clock, one that times your every movement, counting the days, the hours, the seconds as they slip away? And, I don't mean a sporty, expensive wrist-watch, or a small, noisy, alarm clock, or even a charming, antiquated, pocket watch. Think back to last December 31st; now imagine the count-down clock that presides over Times Square, the one that cheerfully tracks the last ten seconds before the New Year. Now imagine an even bigger one, visible to no one else but you; imagine an evil-looking clock, with huge hands, and a dark face with even darker numbers that blink ominously, serving as a silent reminder of just how precious time is. If you can imagine that, then you can imagine what it would feel like to go about your day to day routines, ignoring such a monstrosity, only acknowledging its presence when forced to confront it.
   Since my beloved husband returned from his first tour in Iraq, I've been living with that clock. The minute he came home and stepped foot on American soil, the count-down began. We're a military family, and every fifteen-eighteen months, right on schedule, he deploys. There are certain events, such as moving, or going to school, or just plain luck, that would prevent him from having to go again.  Time would tell what was planned for our family. That clock runs on military time; it's synchronized to the second and is never wrong.
   Living with that clock is like living with a shadow; just because one can't always see it, one knows it's there. In the beginning, when my husband was newly returned, I hardly had to think about it. As a family, we were so caught up in catching up, reconnecting, reestablishing ourselves as a cohesive couple and parental partners. We had to regain our balance, restructure our routines, while retaining our sense of self. The first months were challenging. We were shy and awkward, neither of us knowing what was appropriate to say or to ask, each of us fearing of being insensitive or being too demanding. We didn't know what to expect; we had no parameters for this experience- his first deployment. When talking, we stuck to safe, shallow topics, but eventually, we just crushed the eggshells on which we were walking. By the time he had been home for a year, we were back to being our normal, real, selves.
     Every few months, that ugly clock would make itself known. So-and-so was deploying; this one for six months, a neighbor's husband for a year, a friend's nephew for eighteen months.  When it was visible, I would glare and stare it down, defying its disruptions to my day. A few more months passed; hey! So-and-So was scheduled to go but got pulled at the last minute. And, this one was going to go, too, but he's moving in six months, so can't make the rotation. As a wife, you pray and hope that your husband will somehow be as lucky, too. The clock showed that time, and our luck, had run out. We recently learned that he will be deploying again.
     And, I hate that stupid, cold, callous clock. Everyday that passes, every weekend that slips away, is another day closer to his leaving home, leaving his family, leaving me. Somedays, I just can't bear it. Most days, I go about my life and focus on my tasks. But there are times, when I stop what I am doing, and I want to freeze-frame the moment, keeping my husband and daughter safe in a still-life or a tableau. Mostly, I wish I could grab hold of that clock and break it into a million pieces. I've irrationally rationalized that if I could break it, then I could freeze time. But, I cant; I just can't.
     But, what I can do, is not let that blinking, joy-sucking, second-stealing, time-keeper beat me. I'm going to make the most of the time I have left with my beloved and enjoy every minute of his presence. I'm going to soak up our laughter, swallow the tears, and live in the moment. I'm going to make as many happy memories as I can in the time I've got left; those memories will carry us through the darker moments that lie ahead. I'm going to try, very hard, to not let the future or the unknown or the weight of a war zone weigh me down. I'm going to enjoy all of the little things we love to do as a family, from the silly to the serious. I'm going to make the most of the time I have left- because that's all I can do.