Gone, Grieving, and Time Changes

My husband's mother passed away last Wednesday. She had suffered greatly from the cancer that had progressively enveloped her body. Anyhow, the entire situation presents difficulties for each member of the family and even more so for my husband. He seems to be handling himself very well, but on the inside he is grieving. PTSD makes the grieving different.

It's been a long time since I have seen grief like this. When my uncles passed away, we grieved, but there was a great sense of relief and peace. When Grandma passed, there was grief, but there was a peace about the situation. People are beside themselves--it's just different.

The boys were able to attend youth convention while we've been here. That gave them something to do and allowed them to meet some new people. It was good for them to hang out and experience such an event, and they were pleasantly surprised by the number of bands.

12/3/2011

I wrote this in early November while my family and I were away attending to family matters after my mother-in-law passed away. It seems I never finished my thoughts enough to post last month, so I'll post this now.

Blessings to you,
The PTSD Widow

Just some thoughts---

Fall is here in my neck of the woods. I'll be the first to tell you how beautiful the trees are becoming, and I love the smells! I just miss the summer. It seemed like summer was never going to arrive, and then when it finally did it was gone in two weeks.

Our home has been filled with busyness these past couple of weeks. School has gotten off to a fabulous start, and we have kids here all the time. I love it! My husband has been busy learning and teaching our sons high school chemistry, and I am in my element teaching other people's younger children. We almost have our own little schoolhouse going on here. I feel like I need to come up with a name for it.

We are preparing for some unhappy news, though we don't know when. We'll have to make a trip to the Southwest sometime in the future. My husband's mother is truly sick, and it's just a matter of time before she goes to meet Jesus. This morning, she faces yet another surgery to manage her cancer symptoms. I just don't know how long her body can handle all the radition treatments and the pain. If you are so inclined, please pray for her today. Since no one has an expiration date stamped on their foot, we don't know how much time she's got left. If the doctor's have mentioned a timeframe, the family has failed to relay the message.

PTSD is nasty and relentless. I am not looking forward to another season of dealing with magnified symptoms and outbursts. I've been praying that my husband's PTSD will remain stable, and it will for the most part. Anniversaries are coming up which will inevitably trigger traumatic memories. I pray he'll be able to manage. Couple those anniversaries with the fact that his mother is dying, and that's another story. Dear Hubby has only so much strength, and when triggers occur it's difficult for him to conciously pray and hand over the reigns to God. His emotions (mostly anger and depression)run amock and it takes awhile for us all to recover and regroup.

On a completely different note, our twins are driving. They are in the process of driving the required number of supervised practice hours before they can legally obtain their driver's license. Of course they must wait another 4 months for their birthday, but they are driving. We've had a couple lot of "instructional moments," but generally they do a great job. Our goal is that they learn and develop safe habits. It has been an adventure!

I'd better get ready for my day. There are lots of items to knock off of my to do list.

Blessings to you all,
the PTSD Widow

Modern Day Barn Raising...

There are men on my roof. Since my husband is disabled and there is no way for him to get on the roof to fix it, several men from our church are here to reroof the entire house. A few years ago, our house was damaged during a severe winter storm. Everytime we've saved enough money to fix the roof, something more pressing has happened and we've never been able to save enough. Our church is reroofing our house. Did I mention how much of a blessing this is for our family?

Gidget, our weiner dog, is the only one who is literally freaking out about this project. She keeps running around the house, barking loudly, and now she is panting so hard. Eventually she'll wear herself out. For now, she is busy being a dog! I hope my ears and nerves can handle her constant barking.

This roofing project is literally a community event. So far, I've counted nearly forty people who have given their time, talents, tools, and trucks. That's amazing! It's been kind of a modern-day barn raising. We've had potlucks, dinners, working parties--you name it. People who are unable to get up on the roof have been here pulling weeds and contributing food. It has been a total community effort.

The PTSD symptoms are creeping back into the picture. With people here all the time and constant extra noise, my husband has no safe place to go. On top of that other stressors have been taking a toll on his health. At times he manages really well, and other times it's all he can do to keep it together. So far, aside from a few outbursts, he has done fairly well.

We feel entirely loved and blessed by the members of our local congregation. The truth is, we don't even know the half of how much effort it has taken to make this new roof a reality.

Thanking God and feeling blessed,
the PTSD Widow

Bowling and PTSD

Have I mentioned that my family has taken up bowling? It's a lot more fun than I remember from childhood. I'm terrible, but I celebrate the little victories, for example, breaking 50, then 60 and so on. If I knock down a pin, that becomes a reason to celebrate. If I don't hurt myself, I celebrate. I have determined to enjoy my time bowling. Besides the bowling alley is a great place to people watch. Where else in the world can you watch someone try to guide the ball telepathically? It's just too funny.

The noise gets to me sometimes, but that seems a small price to pay considering the time I get to spend with the boys. They are growing up so fast, and I don't want to miss out on an opportunity to be with them. The goal is for them to bowl a 220 so they can start dating. I think that's my husband's deal with them--I'm sure he's got all the details worked out.

While I was bowling yesterday evening, I began to connect PTSD with bowling. PTSD is kind of like those ten pins at the end of the lane. They are waiting to be knocked over and reset several times each day. If the pins were alive and had an actual voice, they might reflect how tired they are of being knocked over time and time again. Some veterans who suffer with PTSD are only waiting to be knocked over by the floods of memories and what not. Other veterans feel like they are finally reset--only to be knocked down again with memories, anniverary dates, or the next trigger.

I don't know if this makes sense to you, but I wanted to share my connection anyhow. It seems funny how a seemingly normal activity such as bowling can remind me of PTSD and my reality. PTSD is never really that far from my thoughts.

In the meantime, I resolve to enjoy myself as I work to improve my bowling average. Who knows, maybe bowling will prove to be a stress reliever.

Blessings to you,
the PTSD Widow

Summer Joys...

My family and I went on a little overnight/day trip yesterday, and we just returned. We went searching for sunshine! We found sunshine, were educated on the production of hydroelecticity, and we enjoyed an evening of driving and swimming. This morning, I enjoyed another swim while my family enjoyed breakfast. It was great.

On the way home, the husband and I spent a little time at a fishing spot just off the freeway. The boys claimed to be too tired to fish in such windy conditions. I'll give them that for sure--it was rather windy, and I would have been miserable without my coat. I enjoyed the sunshine. The wind made the water look like crumpled aluminum foil, and it was beautiful!

I realized, once again, that sunshine produces heat--no matter what the other conditions contribute. In a way, this is like the joy of the Lord. Though I'm not always the best at reflecting joy in my life, the joy of the Lord can radiate no matter what the rest of life's circumstances look like. (PTSD episodes, other health issues, PMS, etc.)

My prayer is that the joy of the Lord will radiate from my life no matter what difficulties my husband and I face because of PTSD and because of life. I want to be careful to give God all glory and honor because He is the One who has sustained me and provided me with His strength.

Blessings and Joy to you all,
the PTSD Widow

Testing, Shrinking and Sunshine

San Francisco was wonderful! I was able to enjoy time with my sister and meet several people including Arthur Duncan. Overall, the trip was wonderful--no complaints from me. (An annual sister's trip just may be in the planning stages.)


This week has been a week of testing in our homeschool. Our state mandates grade level testing to ensure our kids are reaching academic milestones and that they are at or exceed grade-level standards. For some reason, testing is more tiring to me than actual teaching. Perhaps I tire so easily because I have to work so hard at being quiet so as not to distract my testers. I don't know about that for sure, but I do know I slept one sunny afternoon away.

Speaking of the sun--we've experienced two consecutive sunny days! This is a major event considering this past spring has been the wettest on record in our area. My husband and I went fishing on Friday evening, and then yesterday, we took our twins bowling. I had wanted to go to the ocean, but I was outvoted and ended up bowling. Regardless, the point of the outing was to have a good time and enjoy ourselves as a family. We easily met that goal.

The PTSD symptoms seem to be minimized in the sunshine, but the other aches and pains are beginning to worsen. I believe PTSD exacerbates every other symptom in a body, although I haven't any proof to support this theory. My poor husband has been using a cane to walk around the house, and he winces and moans with each step. It hurts me to see him hurting so badly just when I'm beginning to feel like I have some of my life back.

I bought myself a pair of jeans today. This is a major accomplishment for me because I haven't worn jeans in over 16 years. I'm losing weight and it feels wonderful! Many of the clothes I try on feel so big now. It's definitely a confidence booster to know that before long I won't have to shop in the plus-sized stores.

I need to get back to bed. The boys and I have a concert tomorrow night to kick off our summer celebrations.

Blessings to you all,
the PTSD Widow

Armed Forces Day

I'm so excited! Tomorrow morning my sister and I leave for San Francisco. I was beginning to believe the day would never get here.

Yesterday, my family and I spent the day at the local army base for Retiree Appreciation Day and Armed Forces Day. I know the crowds, the every-hour cannon firing, and all the people in military garb were really tough for my husband. He managed to keep himself controlled. Later on, however, he was anxious and suffered with nausea and vomitting. Though I'm sorry that his body reacts that way to certain stressors, it was nice that he didn't get angry or yell.

I wondered how many veterans or families were walking around on base that day who might have benefitted from www.FamilyofaVet.com. I thought of the tremendous support and information available through their website. Next year, perhaps, I'll be sitting at a booth during the Armed Forces Day celebration to spread the word. I wonder who I'll need to contact to get the ball rolling on this idea.

Our boys discovered the Civil Ware re-enactment. One of the boys stood by the weapons in a Civil War era uniform for much of the day. He looked so handsome. I believe the boy is officially a self-declared geek. (My son hugs me and laughs when he affirms his geekiness. I love it!!) Both boys had a wonderful time talking to people, hanging out, and engaging in all the events on base. The best part of the day for them?? There were people giving away free boxes of Girl Scout cookies. "I mean, Mom, can the day get any better?"

I need to get ready for a busy day, so I'll close for now. I may not be able to blog until next week--San Francisco, here I come!!

Blessings to you all,
the PTSD Widow

Just a comment...

Words are powerful, and they can be powerful triggers for my husband's PTSD symptoms. I learned this once again the other day when he was looking at a package of frozen hashbrowns. There was a recipe for cheesey potato casserole (or something like that) on the back of the package. He was telling me all the ingredients and how this recipe sounded so delicious.

Little did I know that my words in the next few seconds would ignite an hour-long lecture, elevate his blood pressure, cause steam to emit from his ears and set the harsh and edgy tone for the rest of the day.

All I said was, "Oh! That sounds like the recipe for funeral potatoes..." I couldn't even finish my innocent thought before he went off! I just made a simple comment. Instantaneous trigger! He yelled, "Why do you always have to bring up dead people? You're always talking about funerals!" Then he continued for at least an hour about how I ruin all foods by bringing up death or something most people find disgusting.

In my defense, I don't always and I don't ruin everything. Funeral potatoes is a dish often brought to grieving families because they are easy to heat and eat and they are meant to serve a lot of people. I hadn't even heard of any other name for this dish before the other day. In fact, one can google "funeral potatoes" and several recipe sites are listed. I totally missed it--I had no clue that my referring to the recipe as funeral potatoes would yield that kind of overreaction! DUH! How could I have missed that one?

The more my husband thought yelled about it, the angrier he became. I had to walk away and remove myself from the situation. I was getting angry too, and he gave me no opportunity to defend myself or try and talk him down. I left.

What can you do when your beloved is making an innocent comment a matter of life and death national security? ( Don't want to mention the "death" word!)I can laugh at the situation now because it's over, but I'll be careful not to laugh about this in my husband's presence. Oh, and I'll be more cautious and selective about which of my powerful words I speak when he's around.

Good Days...

Recently, my friends and I were sharing stories of our many trials and how we managed to not only survive the muck and mire, but also thrive on the other side. I remembered the difficult times just before my husband's diagnosis and subsequent medical retirement from the military. That was definitely a muddy time in our life.

So many, many times it would have been easier to just give up and leave the marriage and everything we had established together. (Life was that trying at the time.) However, if I had elected to leave when we were in the middle of the muck and mire, I would have only remembered the bad times and how hard it was and the negatives. I wouldn't have had the chance to see the other side and reap the results.

Sure, there are still difficult times in our life as we cope with PTSD and multiple TBIs. I'm not going to pretend there aren't, but I will tell you there are good days too.

If you are in the middle of the puddle and above your kneecaps in mud, let me encourage you to hang on. Wade through the mud and persevere. One day you'll look back and wonder how you made it through, but you'll be glad you stayed the course. You'll be stronger for your struggle and able to encourage others.

Blessings to you all,
the PTSD Widow

Tie a Knot...(and other thoughts)

It just dawned on me that I didn't blog about how my nightmare ended the other night. My husband came home around 11 a.m. that morning. He claimed he had been driving around, but I think there is more to the story. He probably fell asleep somewhere on the way home, and didn't want to worry me.

A good friend once told me, "Sissy, when you're at the end of your rope, tie a knot. It's easier to hang onto a knot." I have hung onto those words of wisdom so many different times. But, then there are the times that I think my rope is too short and already has too many knots. I get discouraged, but I really don't have much time to spend acting like a poster-child for discouragement and despair.

Okay, so what's the deal with Secondary PTSD? Is it PTSD or isn't it? I was "diagnosed" with Secondary PTSD today, but other people I have talked to say it doesn't exist. I don't know, but I'm going to find out. When I learn as much as I can about Secondary PTSD, I'll write a very thorough blog. Until then,

Blessings to you all,
The PTSD Widow

Ungracious

Have you ever had your heart set on something and then been disappointed because it didn't turn out the way you had envisioned? That happened to me last week.

I went to church fully expecting to listen to another dynamic sermon by my pastor to give me a boost for the New Year. To my shock, dismay, horror, and whatever else...he didn't preach! He introduced another pastor. I stopped listening with my heart right then and there. Afterall, what could the inexperienced and very verbose man at the pulpit have to say to me? I took notes on his presentation, but I was just waiting for him to make a mistake. I wrote down things like, "The new word of the the week is 'clearly' rather than 'pragmatic' or 'caveat.' No $10 words this week."

I guess I got tired of nitpicking, so I started to record the positive things he did. "Restated introduction in first conclusion." "Uh-oh! He told us how we were going to pray." I believe I got up and walked out at that point. To begin with, my attitude was rotten! Secondly, nobody is going to tell me how I have to pray. Thirdly, I was tired of nitpicking.

When I went back and read my 'notes,' I realized how very ungracious I had acted. I had to repent for my rotten attitude and toss the critique in the trash. I can only remember the first sermon I sat through in 2011 was about resolutions and Judaism. (I think I wrote something negative about the topic in my 'notes.') I was ungracious. I didn't give the speaker a chance, nor did I let Almighty God intervene and do something divine in my heart that day. I'm sure my attitude blocked any inspiration that would have resulted from actually hearing what was said last Sunday.

In a way, PTSD is this way. It feels like my husband doesn't hear what I say. It feels like his 'rotten attitude' blocks any inspiration that could potentially come from actually hearing what I have to say. Sometimes I feel like he only hears what he wants to hear and begins forming his retort long before I actually finish my thought. I feel like he's constantly critiquing me.

It was good for me to realize what an ungracious attitude looks like so I can be aware the next time it threatens me. I no longer have to allow myself to surrender to such an attitude and miss out on a blessing. I can actually practice being gracious.

Many Blessings,
the PTSD Widow

I saw the old playhouse this weekend. It was old and torn up, but the memories were as fresh as the paint on the trailer my father had up on the lifts.

That little playhouse was our drive-through fast-food joint. It was the place in which we spent summer nights and played with friends. It was the house we cleaned and rearranged to accommodate our "club" meetings. That little house was the most beautiful place I remember.

Our friends had the latest and greatest dollhouses; Sister and I had a real life-sized dollhouse. We even brought electricity into the house via an extension cord so we could play our cassette tapes. We had picnics on the porch and brought the first wireless phone out there so we'd never miss a thing. We had a place where we had to use our imaginations and have fun.

I'm one of the blessed ones. I can remember things from my childhood. I can remember a lot of things. My husband is unable to recall many things because of PTSD. Of course he and I grew up in opposite areas of the country; but, since the diagnoses of PTSD and TBI he has little recall of childhood memories.

My guess is that my husband's memory is a lot like that old playhouse. At one time, he had all kinds of pleasant memories. Now it's all torn up and dilapidated. Sometimes I wish I could give my husband back some memories--but I know that is impossible. What I can do is help him make pleasant memories with our children. That way the boys will one day look back and fondly remember--even if their daddy can't.

Blessings for you all today,
the PTSD Widow

Security

Do you remember when you were invincible? For me that would have been when I was 22, newlywed, and new to the lifestyle of a military bride. Nothing could have prepared me for the future because I was living it. I was so happy! I had a good-looking husband, a steady paycheck, and hardly any bills. I had a bunch of wives who lived around me in a similar situation, and I had my freedom. I was living.

Nothing could have prepared my for the future--a life of living paycheck to paycheck, a diagnosis of PTSD that would alter what normal looked like, and not only the diagnosis, but also the characteristics and drama of the anxiety disorder. I had no idea that I would face depression and deal with issues that should have only been in the movies. I didn't know that there would be sleepless nights and nights when I'd wake up with my husband about ready to hit me because he'd had a nightmare and was still actively involved in that nightmare. I had no clue that I would have to learn how to talk him down from his anxiety episodes and sometimes be unsuccessful in my attempts to do so. I didn't know.

This may sound horrible and difficult, and I'm not going to lie--it is. However, Through it all I've learned from where my source of strength comes. You see, I had to learn that my security is not in any of my possessions. It's not in my house, my car, my husband, or my boys. My strength is not from my friends, a paycheck or the Army. It cannot come from anything I am able to do or accomplish--because I will ultimately fail. My source of strength and my security is in the Lord, or I am not very secure at all.

We lost everyTHING when my husband was medically retired from the Army. Our income went from comfortable to less than half of that. I went back to school and we were rather forced into bankruptcy. I lost my husband whenever he faced his trauma--the one that he relives on a continual basis. My children are growing up--and my friends have moved away. BUT my God has never failed. He has never left me. He has been my only security through it all. He will continue to prove faithful even when I am lacking. God is my source of strength.

Blessings to you all,
the PTSD Widow

PTSD Widow

In all fairness, I must confess my husband is still breathing. He still moves, breathes, and communicates with his family on occasion. However, it feels as if he died. The man I married died a long time ago while serving in the U.S. Army. My husband suffers from Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (among other things), and at times I feel like I'm a widow already.

Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD) has redefined normalcy for my family. The fact is, we don't even remember what "normal" is supposed to feel or look like. On any given day, our twin boys are working hard to try to do their best to please their daddy. They rarely earn a smile or a word of praise. Often they will hear how they could have worked more efficiently or done something differently--only to them the words are not constructive. The words are cutting and often yelled in harsh tones. Needless to say, my thirteen-year-olds are learning that this is the way to talk to people. (I'm beginning to believe they have developed Secondary PTSD.) It's very hard to teach my children "normal" social behaviors when they do not have true examples at home.

The purpose of this blog is not so I can vent and explain how terrible my life is--because it's not all terrible. The purpose of this blog is to offer a place to support and encourage spouses of veterans who suffer with PTSD. You are not alone. We are all going through various situations and some of us have been there before.

Some things to know about me: I am a Christian. My relationship with Christ has sustained me and allowed me to stand when I have been at my lowest point in dealing with my husband's illnesses. I homeschool my children. Oh, I have a tendency to be very "bossy" and direct, but whatever I say or tell someone is always, "Take it or leave it." My free advice is only a suggestion because I do not have all the answers, nor do I see everything as clearly as some.

Please feel free to comment and leave your e-mail address if you would like me to respond to you. I will try to update this blog frequently. Some days will be joyful, somedays tearful--This is the way life goes at times.