Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder and Alcoholism - an article by Helen Snider

Vietnam Veterans, Alcoholism, and a New Perspective

Every Vietnam veteran is a hero but it would seem that not everyone remembers that: In fact, the issues faced by Vietnam veterans have been sorely overlooked by the central Government since the end of the conflict and this continues to this day. Approximately nine million American men entered military service during the lengthy process of the Vietnam war (which has the dubious honor of being America’s longest war) and yet public spending on veterans has been consistently low and consistently inconsistent (with the average vet in Boston receiving $25,000 per annum in benefits, whilst the average vet in Cape Cod receives just $5,500 per annum in benefits, for example). This poor treatment has served to exacerbate feelings of being disconnected from society for some veterans, leading to post-traumatic stress disorder, alcoholism, drug misuse, and other mental health disorders cause by trauma.

Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder and Alcoholism

60 to 80 per cent of Vietnam veterans seeking treatment for post-traumatic stress disorder
 (PTSD) are also presenting with some form of alcohol abuse. The Veterans Administration who primarily deal with the care of veterans from Vietnam conservatively estimate that between 500,000 and 700,000 of Vietnam veterans are still experiencing severe mental and social problems related to their experiences whilst they were in Vietnam. Significant numbers of this vast number of men are also alcoholics. In layman’s terms, these men are choosing to use alcohol to numb the pain and attempt to erase the memories of what they experienced when they were on active duty in Vietnam.  It is interesting that most veterans choose alcohol rather than illicit drugs, no doubt because of the socially acceptable nature of choosing to drink a beer or head to a bar: staying within the confines of the law and under the radar of what is societally normal is important here. It is clear, then, that alcoholism is a problem and has been a problem for many Vietnam Vets.

Treatment Options

Treatment plans for alcoholic veterans, particularly those veterans who are also presenting with some form of Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, has always been vigorous and intensive. Often involving intensive therapy with a trained psychologist, the two conditions are treated simultaneously. Group counselling is recommended as the most successful form of treatment, which is generally offered in VA centers alongside other veterans, as many emotionally battered Veterans, particularly those suffering from post traumatic stress disorder, struggle to trust or connect to others but find it easier to open up to and forge relationships with those that have experienced the same war time situations of themselves. The goal of those counselling sessions and treatment plans is to cure both the PTSD and the alcoholism with complete abstinence and sobriety.

Yet a new perspective posed by new research from the FDA could change that, although no one knows yet what impact this might have on veterans. Sobriety has always been the main goal of all alcoholic rehabilitation programs: this includes both expensive residential rehabilitation centers and the free AA support groups that are held in every town up and down the country. Now though the FDA have turned this on its head by suggesting that complete sobriety now doesn’t have to be the sole goal of treatment for alcoholism. In February they drafted an article that proposed that sobriety and complete abstinence was no longer essential for an alcoholic to no longer be considered ‘sober’: instead reduced drinking and consistent ‘non heavy drinking’ days would have the same effect. This flies in the face of the conventional wisdom that alcoholics are, by the very nature of their condition, unable to have just a drink or two and that they will always be vulnerable to the impact of ingesting alcohol regularly.                     

How this new report will affect the treatment plans of vulnerable Vietnam veterans is yet to be seen: the concept of allowing an alcoholic to still drink regularly seems counterproductive to the hard work of the therapy and counselling they have already undertaken. And these brave veterans who have already given so much for their country certainly don’t deserve to be used as guinea pigs to test this new theory from the FDA.

Operation Military Salute program 2nd Baptist Houston

My friend Ken Pridgeon gave my bride and I 2 tickets to attend the Operation Military Salute program at 2nd Baptist in Houston today. This is one of 5 giant 2nd Baptist locations run by Dr. Ed Young. Oh my god, what an amazing production! We were bowled over by the 2.5 hour program. I did not know Wayne Newton was basically Bob Hope now and has traveled with the USO since 1967. When he left Vietnam the first time, he called 5000 families and told them he had talked to their sons, using a form they filled out. He personally has called over 14000 family members from troops in the Middle East and delivered messages, some of the troops being killed by the time he called their houses.

I couldn't keep the tears out of my eyes today many times. We heard Medal of honor winner Navy Seal Mike Thornton talk, who has been wounded 18 times. Lt. General William Boykin (see the photo above) who was portrayed by Sam Shepard in the movie Black Hawk Down, talk about the 2 Delta Force members who sacrificed their lives to save WO3 Mike Durant and how we veterans are duty bound to make this country great again.

It was one of the most rewarding moments for us, as the portrait of Nick hung in the hallway, as the PTSD (Post Traumatic Stress Disorder) folks were heavily represented there today. The high level of professional presentation by this church was amazing. I've never seen anything like it.

Mattress Mac's nephew, Major George MacIngvale III was awarded The Texas Heart of Service award (he has 7 tours in Iraq and Afghanistan). Mattress Mac was also recognized for 24 years of unselfish financial support for the troops. The Patriot Guard and many others were also recognized and praised. It was an amazing tribute to the Veterans and the troops.
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The Greatest Gift - reposted from December 17, 2006

Every day at work, I wash down the bird droppings from the pigeons and dove that nest in my area. I’ve thought about ways to keep them out of the covered areas and really want to do it in a way that isn’t harmful to them. Their droppings are surely a health hazard and I get aggravated when each day, I drag out the water hose to flush it into the Plant sump.

Yesterday, I saw a pigeon all fluffed up, sitting on the ground and I instinctively knew it was sick. Instead of feeling justified, I felt nothing but pity. Under my breath I whispered a short prayer for its recovery. I guess I’m getting old, or mellow, or something. In my earlier days, I wouldn’t have given the poor bird much thought, as sad as that sounds.

Each day in the media and the online forums, the war in Iraq and Afghanistan is tossed back and forth with a detachment that is as bad as my former aloofness concerning sick birds. We complain about the war and the way it’s being handled and all the while "our boys" are in the thick of it, facing another Christmas away from home.

We want it to go away, so we can resume our lives, shop for Christmas and attend a joyous New Years party. I truly wish it would go away and we could experience peace on earth and good will to all men.

The troops in Iraq and other war zones occasionally have access to the Internet and most of them have a MySpace account. Being the techno-geek guy that I am, I too have an account and I regularly read what my son and other soldiers write. What I’ve experienced in my own life as a G.I. overseas in wartime has brought depth to their casual remarks.

"Life isn’t supposed to be this bad when you’re still young".
"I figure I’ve been through the worst of it and I’m ready to start living again".
"This is the worst place on earth"…

Christmas is approaching and for many of us Christian people, it marks the greatest day of the year, both for the celebration of the birth of the Christ child Jesus, but also as a time of gathering together. We exchange gifts, eat a lot of fattening food, and generally indulge ourselves to the point we all go on diets beginning January one. As my daughter Melody loves to say: "Good times!" and it surely is.

As an Airman, I spent four Christmas’ away from home. One in Basic Training, another in freezing Malmstrom AFB, Montana and two at steamy Takhli RTAFB, Thailand. I lost something in those four years and those that are away serving our country will lose something also.

* "He went to fight wars, For his country and his king, Of his honor and his glory, The people would sing.
Ooooh, what a lucky man he was…"

The truth is just the opposite. Our boys and girls come back old men and women and some bear physical and mental scars they will carry for the rest of their lives. Sometimes the scars are not apparent and surface many years later. Sometimes the scars are too hard for loved ones to bear and a separation takes place while the Veteran sorts it all out.

My son will be returning to Fort Sill, Oklahoma on January 7th, if everything goes as planned and after 10 days of "reintegration", he will be able to come home on leave. I looked this Army term up, as I found it peculiar and this is what I found: "The automatic energetic process, whereby the projected double is reintegrated with its physical/etheric body". In plain old Texas talk, what this means is, these soldiers have to be eased back into society, a little bit at a time. It’s supposed to take 10 days.

The greatest gift I could possibly get this Christmas season is the boy is still alive inside the man. He left for Iraq, a Veteran of Korea and Kuwait, but after 82 combat missions, 15 IED attacks and a Purple Heart medal, I do not know who this man might be when he comes back. God willing, my "boy" is still in there somewhere.

Footnote: On April 16, 2009 I found my Army Veteran son dead on a friends couch, the victim of depression, VA prescribed anti-anxiety pills and alcohol. His Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD) finally bought him a ticket to the peace he so desperately craved.

Nick's passing left an unexpected gift though and at first it was difficult to cipher out. Over 600 people gathered at this funeral and our home for days on end to comfort each other and those he had affected. It was his parting gift.

I do not blame God and am trying to make sense of it all. I do have as a gift this Christmas season the greatest of all gifts and that is my Faith, my church, my faithful friends and my wonderful family...and I share the belief that someday we'll be reunitied with my hero son, Nick.

* "Lucky Man" Emerson, Lake & Palmer

One Hundred and One Days

One hundred and one days ago I learned of my Army Veteran son’s untimely death.

One hundred and one days ago my bride, daughter and loving family had our hearts ripped out and our lives turned upside down. One hundred days have passed and I think we are slowly entering into the final stage of grief, which is Acceptance. I sure hope so. The last stage was a bummer.

One hundred and one days ago we entered the darkest days of our lives.

One hundred and one days ago I learned that my bride, daughter, our loving family and yes, even me are loved so much more deeply than I could have ever imagined. There has truly been a silver lining in the darkest of clouds. It hasn’t all been bad believe me. Our friends have suffered also, but spread their wings of love to comfort us in our time of profound desperation.

One hundred and one days ago my aging Dad, whom I had never seen shed a tear, looked at me, and with eyes over-flowing muttered, “Nick is the first one of us to go” and he is correct – but who could have predicted it, or even prevented his demise. I will not torment myself with conjecture.

Many hundreds of thousands of war veterans live out their lives in silence with untreated depression, taking each day as a challenge to make sense of their lives. Some are even successful in turning it around – some aren’t. I think back on comments my Iraqi Freedom decorated son made leading up to this fateful night and realize a lot of signs were there to be read and I mostly missed them.

The fourth and worst stage is Depression and it has horrors of its own. We are slowly rising above it, each of us at our own pace. My son Nick once looked at me and said point blank “I have trouble with depression”. Another time he said in a monotone “Dad, you don’t know what’s like to be in combat” and then he fell silent. Mostly he was silent and ninety per cent of what we learned about our son’s war-life came from the stories of his friends and fellow soldiers after his funeral.

One of the standout characteristics of depression, I now know well, is the inability to carry on as before. Sufferers row in circles and many times they don’t even care. Untreated, as in Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD) can be and many times is fatal.

In my own case, it has been impossible to resume my life pre-funeral. Forgive my ignorance please, but up to this point, I personally had never lost someone close to me, let alone my own child.

I have always been self-sufficient as an adult, never imposing my needs and desires extravagantly on friends, or even my own wife. I attempt to make daily progressions, both physically and mentally, studying constantly to improve myself. I work very hard at what I do. I am also my own worst critic.

One hundred and one days ago I drifted into the doldrums of progression and today I felt a slight breeze. Up until now I was fighting a downhill slide occasionally casting a last-ditch anchor to arrest my descent, but I believe I have now bottomed out. In fact I bottomed out about 2 weeks ago and that’s how I know it’s time to put on my sweats, tennis shoes and make like Rocky training to fight Apollo.

I haven’t slipped deeper in the last two weeks and that’s a good thing. I have a feeling there are more good things in my immediate future. I’m ready. It’s all up from here on out and I feel like climbing.

Folks, I have a piece of advise for you and yours concerning depression from the loss of a loved one. If you are suffering from it, understand this is normal, but not permanent. Then realize it can and does get better, but it takes determination and most of all - time. Time is the great healer. One hundred and one days so far.

One Long Month Later

One month ago today my world plunged into a place of hellish turmoil. It took twenty-eight days to climb back to the land of the living. Yesterday, I put a gardenia bloom to my nose and it smelled sweeter and more fragrant than it ever did in the past.

Experiencing the king of ironies, one month ago today, I sat in the office of my unit superintendent and finally unloaded my burden for my son’s anguish, his problems concerning post traumatic stress disorder (PTSD) and the reason I had taken four weeks of emergency vacation in the first four months of the year. Little did I know that as I talked to my boss, my son was already dead and I would never talk to him again, except in my prayers and memories.

Today, one month later I’ve experienced five nights without constant dreams of Nick and I must say, that that has been a good thing. Although I have avoided feelings of guilt, as I truly believe I did my level best to do and say the right thing to him, some guilt must be shouldered for I missed key trigger points that should have warned me that things were dangerously wrong.

Going back to the year 1972 when I got orders for Vietnam and my World War II Veteran father admonished me to “not do anything over there that I would regret for the rest of my life” and was the exact phrase I repeated to my son before he went to South Korea, then Kuwait and finally Iraq. Just a few days before his demise Nick signed back up for the Infantry in the US Army and repeated “the admonishment” to me, but added this: “Dad, remember what you told me? Well, this time, I’m going to kill them”.

I should have recognized this for what it was, but I blew it off as just…anger. It was anger all right, but the wrong kind. It was the kind that shows a much deeper problem - one that screams out for counseling. I should have recognized the cycle of self-destruction sooner. But, my son had a whole lot of his Dad in him and I guess it’s a Marshall trait also, that we don’t seek counseling – we give it. We are an internalizing group, who suck it up when things don’t go the way we think they should, remaining self-reliant and guess what? It’s not always good for us, or those we love.

Two days ago I finally had a release of pent-up emotion that cleansed and later comforted me. It came over me so suddenly that I just surrendered to it. It was time. I have this crazy notion that grief on my part is selfish and blatant self-pity and I avoided it like the plague. I had the stupid thought that all I’m doing is feeling sorry for myself, like a big baby. It’s stupid and self-destructive and if all of this has taught me anything, it’s that I don’t know anything and grieving is okay. Besides others are grieving and I think their grief is normal.

One month ago I told my wife the same thing I’ve said many times: “I don’t have a single close friend, I just have acquaintances”. My God in heaven was I ever wrong. I have a whole lot of friends, close friends. Friends, who have sacrificed for me and mine. Oh, to go through life and not know what a friend is would be a miserable existence indeed. It’s another thing I didn’t recognize.

One month ago I started to live all over again and it was a painful entry, but now after a month has gone by, the flower blooms smell sweet again and I am surrounded with family and friends that are dearer and more a part of my life than my wildest imagination could have predicted.

April Wasn’t My Best Month

Coming into April 2009, I had no idea what I would be facing, or I would have dug my heels in and did my best to stop the clock. Not that that would have been possible. We field the ball as it’s hit to us and truth be known, if I would have been warned it would be a bad month, I most likely would have girded myself up and took it on the chin; my usual modus operandi.

I see myself as a realist who accepts the world as it literally is and deals with it accordingly. So, all things considered I have to accept April 2009 for what it is both good and bad, sad and happy, awful in it’s wounding of spirit and soul, but beautiful in the incredible support, compassion and love shown to me and mine in this desperate time of mourning and loss over our son’s untimely demise.

Coming to grips with the loss of Nicholas has been the hardest mountain I’ve ever climbed, but climb I must. My own survival depends on it and the lanyard that dangles from my harness allows my bride, daughter, brothers, and sister, Mom and Dad, along with many friends and loved ones to get a grip and the traction they need to make the climb with me.

I am “the Dad” and by definition must lead, regardless of the amount of hardship inflicted upon my family. I am allowed and encouraged to mourn and the incredible volume of loving support has been beyond my deepest imagination, but in the end I must climb and climb I will.

There are many more beautiful sights up this mountain path for us to see and enjoy and I aim to see them with my friends and family at my side. Nick had many friends, many of which are estranged from their parent(s), or missing one or both through like tragedies. I want to be there to help guide them when they need someone.

In April 2009 I became painfully aware of how many people are silently suffering due to personal loss. Many friends and yes, strangers told me stories of loved ones passing and I then realized how common it is for people to carry this awful weight on their shoulders.

When personal loss intrudes into our life, the thought will cross your mind that it is peculiar to you and yours and those immediately impacted – alone, but this is so far from the truth, I can’t even comprehend it. “No man is an island…” is part of a quote by John Donne, an English clergyman back in the 1500’s and one I often quoted to my Army son, who incidentally silently and privately suffered from PTSD – Post Traumatic Stress Disorder from the combat he was involved in, in Iraq.

I didn’t understand his aversion to crowds and often attempted to get him to mingle. I would tell him he owed it to everyone to share his life, but he would withdraw and often disappear from gatherings and I would shake my head. It wasn’t until after his death that I realized it was a behavior pattern he had learned from me.

I should have been preaching to myself, as I was actually the guilty party. When over 600 people came to his funeral I saw for the first time how truly important people are and how we are all part of something greater than ourselves. No one is an island and our friends and family reflect everything we do and say and when they hurt from personal loss, their friends and family hurt also. It starts a rippling effect that can last for years and often does.

No, April 2009 wasn’t all bad and I reckon as time moves on, I’ll see it as more of a spiritual awakening and blessing than I can realize while I’m in its wake.