"You wouldn't understand"...
You wouldn't understand....my husband does and I love him for it
Rant on sister!!!
My husband has PTSD and TBI yet he possesses an incredible capacity to identify with comparable suffering with such empathy that I feel humbled. And although I don’t want to say I suffer from PTSD, I can say with certainty I have persistent fears related to a trauma I suffered when I almost lost my right eye in an accident involving a horse. Now, almost five years since the accident, my physical wounds have long since healed but the emotional scars continue to create problems for me to this very day. And although I don’t actively seek out his reassurance, my husband is right there to recognize and validate my feelings whenever my fears haunt me.
It was August 2005 around 6:30am; the weather was warm even at that wee hour and I could tell it was going to be a scorcher. I was managing a horse ranch at that time, and on this particular occasion there was no one else in the barn but me. To cut a long story short (‘cause long posts become monotonous) one of the horses I was turning out spooked, slammed into me, knocked me on my back, and kicked me in the face. Without a doubt it was the most terrifying event I’ve ever experienced my entire life.
The whole ordeal took place in the blink of an eye, but when it was over it took me at least a minute to comprehend the extent of my injuries. From my final resting position on my back I could see my ball-cap, my cell phone, my pocket knife, strewn on the ground…then nothing…at this point blood coursed into my eyes from a wound above my eye. I rolled over onto my knees and let out a cry for help. Remembering there was no one in the barn I knew I had to go get help myself as I was going into shock. Later at the ER, a CAT scan revealed a maxilla facial fracture, a fracture in the optical cavity and a ruptured arterial feeder just above my right eye.
Almost five years later, and although only a feint scar remains below my eyebrow, I am still dealing with the psychological baggage from the accident, the end result of which is an irrational fear of being injured while riding. Most of the time when the fear creeps in I can rationalize my way out of it, but on occasion the ghoulish flashbacks loom larger than life and twice as ugly as they did on the day the accident happened. Out of the blue I can be struck with such dread that I have to stop riding immediately; I mean literally get off my horse and be done with it for the day. There is nothing quite like the feeling of self-loathing that consumes me when that happens. Coward, pussy, stupid bitch!! I am angry that the accident ever happened, and I hate that the one constant perfect joy I've had throughout my entire life is now imperfect and blemished.
But despite how extreme those situations can be, I am eternally grateful that my supportive husband who, despite suffering from severe combat PTSD and TBI, empathizes with me. He never belittles my fears, always encourages me on my bad days, applauds me on the good ones and I appreciate this trait in him more than he'll ever know. For empathy is a two way street and for all my outpourings for him, he returns the favor to me many times over.
Taken from my Blog "The Combat Veteran Spouse - Living in the Shadow of PTSD"
http://combatvetspouse.blogspot.com/
Domenica
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Wow... :-o
I am sorry to hear of your horrific accident. Those scars run deep...it takes a helluva lot to get between us girls and our love of horses!
When I was 16, I took a nosedive onto asphalt from the back of a cantering gelding. I was riding bareback, so it was my own fault (stooopid kid LOL) He was an Egyptian Arab--I used to say he was built like a highchair--it was like falling from a plane. I landed on the back of my skull and was in the hospital for weeks. Had a skull fracture and lost 60% of the hearing in my right ear, but I don't remember a thing about the accident, or even the morning before it happened. I was right back out in the barn within a month--a little leery, but I got over it fairly quickly. I'm sure if I could remember the accident itself, it'd be a lot more similar to what you have to deal with, and especially since your horse played a more active role in your injury, so to speak. I can just imagine the nightmares...yikes...
So how did we luck out and get such great guys? :) It's wonderful to hear how supportive your fella is, I think some folks are just born to take care of people. I wonder if that helps them out somehow, too? I think we all need to be needed, but I wonder if having someone else to worry about keeps that "I'm a dirtbag" switch from trying to flip on. On the boards, so many guys who have come back seem to feel useless. The medals and all don't really matter much to them--yeah, I've seen "The Eyeroll" when they're told they're getting another one--I wish there was a better way we could show them how much we appreciate them, and when they're down, that they're NOT a bunch of worthless dirtbags!
I think I'll make a website...I'll call it "Support Your Vet". Heehee! :-D
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Okay, I have read and read, and I've kept my mouth shut so far, but something has begun to rankle... Let me first explain my own situation. I'll try to not be TOO lengthy! :)
I, too, am married to a soldier--he joined the Army when he was 17 and was immediately sent to the jungles of South America to chase drugs lords. Over time, he left the Army and joined the Guard -- boom, they started deploying him. He is on his 5th deployment (yep, 5th!), and is currently in Iraq for the 2nd time, so at over 50 years of age, this is something he has done since before he even had his drivers' license. (Speaking of which, the first thing he ever drove was a tank, I've always thought that was interesting)
Anyhow, this man means everything to me. I am about to hit 41, and I have never met anyone like him (I'd been looking around for quite a while LOL). The room lights when he enters, the charisma just beams from him. Everyone who meets him, male or female, is instantly charmed. Suffice to say, I adore him. And he is also my hero :)
A month and a half before our first anniversary, the Guard yanked him away from me. In two months, he comes home from Iraq. This was the most horrible, devastatingly lonely year of my entire life... On the evening of December 24th, I sat alone and crying on the couch, and something in me shifted. I know a part of me broke.
I will be fine. He has done this all his life, and I'm sure the man has had every kind of therapy they offer, so I'm quite confident that over time, he will be fine. As he keeps saying, "Been here, done this." I know alcohol will become a part of his life--it has been since he was 17, but he's not an alcoholic--and I know the dreams will continue, but he will be fine.
When he came back from Afghanistan, the dreams were bad--he was so upset at times that he would go into the bathroom and vomit when a particularly bad one woke him up. The only other problem, and it was blessedly VERY infrequent, was drinking a little too much. He loves his beer, but every once in a while, he would overdo it, and he would sit beside me on the couch, telling me about the time he held his best friend in his arms as he lay dying, blown literally in two by a roadside bomb.
Any fool should know I can never truly understand what he went through. Unless someone has a similar experience, NOBODY can ever completely understand what he went through. The sand, the bugs, the fear, the lack of privacy, overblown dirtbags yelling in his face for no other reason than they have higher rank--sure, we civilians can never completely fathom this, but I have NEVER heard my husband say "You wouldn't understand".
Bottom line...a human is in distress. What more would I need to understand? No, I don't know what it feels like to watch your best friend die in your arms, but I have a pretty damn good idea of the pain that this will cause! It really bothers me to hear people use that phrase..."you wouldn't understand"... And if I ever heard it, my reply would be "No, but I love you, and I see that you're in pain. I understand pain." And I probably wouldn't rant. LOL
The more I hear that "You wouldn't understand", the more it ticks me off... Grrr... :( If you love someone, in more than a little way you DO understand...
Okay, I'm fine now! :D