Once upon a time, there were 2 super annoying, super hornball guys.. They joined forces to become a SUPER DUPER annoying hornball team. Then these two guys both got married, settled down, and had kids. Annoying hornball guy number 1 (one week older than the other) after having his first son, says to the other, who just had his daughter 7 months prior.. "Wouldn't it be something if these 2 grew up and got married one day?" Annoying hornball guy number 2 goes "over my dead body".
Fast foward 20 some years later.... My dad is still alive. Yep, those 2 babies grew up, got married, and had babies of their own. Cute right? It's not. Because while it seems like a fairy tail, the truth of the matter, only a couple of years into our marriage, we had been through more than anyone could imagine. Danny's done a lot of things that could have ended us, and I forgave him. We moved passed it, and kept on truckin'. Then we had 2 back to back deployments, which we had both of our kids during. Could have tried to plan that a little better, right?
Anyway, you've all heard of PTSD, you might even know someone who has it. Hell, maybe you've dealt with it, or your spouse has. If so, you know it is a debilitating thing. And that doesn't even describe how horrible it is. Hubby went on his second tour prepared for the worst, but what happened is worse than the worst. What happened was something he wasn't prepared for, and it has ruined him. He hates everything, including god. He is pissed at the world.
Every single day is a fight to just survive the day for him.. And for me, the same. Every day is a fight to survive what war, and PTSD has done to this man I love, yet don't recognize at all anymore. This man, to you, will appear normal, yet maybe a little bit irritated from time to time. In public he'll smile, crack jokes, and have a good time. This is not the man I know. The man I now know, is a giant ball of anger. Every day, all day, he yells, screams, curses, and belittles our children. Every. Single. Day.
It wasn't always like this. First he was just miserable and sad. Then it got to a point where he told me he wondered if he went to the bedroom, and blew his brains out, if the kids and I would even notice or care. I still have flashbacks to that night. It still haunts me. He fought and fought for help at his last duty station.. They wouldn't help him. He tried for months, and they literally turned him away over and over again. Finally, someone took notice, but it was too late, we were moving to another duty station. So, she throws some medication at him and calls it a day.
Meanwhile, we think.. Things will get better when we move. We'll get there, and there won't be any more deployments, and we can work on what needs to be done with PTSD. So, months later, he finally has a therapist. He does NOTHING, basically.. Then says he's going TDY (has to go to another duty station for a couple of months) and dumps us on someone else. This lady, she listened.. And is starting a new therapy with him. New to him anyway. It's called Prolonged Exposure Therapy. But I don't see how much good that's going to do when he only has an appointment once a week, or once every other week.
In the meantime, what am I doing you're wondering? I'm curling up into a pathetic little ball praying to god that my husband comes back to me. And my kids father comes back. While I let him ruin our kids. I live my life every day, trying to anticipate what will set him off, and keep on my toes so I can run to them and save them from him. From their fathers words. Exhausted doesn't even touch what I am as a result. The man who's supposed to love them, and protect them, is destroying them. These defenseless children, who still love their dad more than life, are being ruined by that same man.
I'm going to counseling, I'm trying to talk to those that I trust with this for advice. At this point, I know that if he doesn't get better, and if he doesn't try harder, I'm going to have to take my kids, and run. Sounds easy. Just make some arrangements, pack some things, and we'll be on our way. It's not easy. This is not my husband. This is not the man I gave my heart to. The man I married used to hold me, and tell me he loves me, and I'm beautiful, and the kids and I mean the world to him.I keep praying he's still in there somewhere. Now he's this empty man, who's tortured every monent of his life, even when he's asleep.
What's happening to me as a result? I hate the world sometimes. I ask god all the time what I did to deserve this. What my kids did to deserve this. Why did my husband have to be the one to whitness that accident? Why, why, WHY? I don't recognize myself either. I smile all the time, because I can't let anyone in. If people knew what we were going through, I'd be judged for staying, or judged for going. There is no way to put into words what PTSD really does. PTSD is a killer. This is why there are so many murders, and suicides in the military community, which comes right back to PTSD.
What the hell is our military doing to help these service members who gave their all? Nothing. Playing games with them, that's what their doing. His last duty station shut down a few years ago for a mandatory "If you have PTSD come for help, no one will judge you and we are here" get together. Guess what. IT WAS BULLSHIT! I can't even count how many times they turned my husband away. This is why right here. This is why I'm so angry at the Army. This is why I'm so miserable, and negative, and angry period.
We should be living our happily ever after right now, and every fucking day of my life, I am living a REAL nightmare. Every day is a struggle for all 5 of us. This is what PTSD is. It's a killer, and it destroys entire families. This is what we get for our sacrifices as a family, for our country.
