PTSD AND ME

THE STORY OF MY STRUGGLE WITH MYSELF AFTER IRAQ

By DENNIS JAMES WILLIAMS

iUniverse LLC

Copyright © 2013 Retired MSG Dennis James Williams
All rights reserved.
ISBN: 978-1-4917-0020-4

Contents

1. Preface………………………………………………………..12. Introduction……………………………………………………23. Dreams Or Reality……………………………………………….54. Act Of War……………………………………………………..85. Getting Ready To Going Home………………………………………116. Last Man Out……………………………………………………127. Kuwait To Drum………………………………………………….148. Outprocessing…………………………………………………..169. Money Problems………………………………………………….1910. Good Times At Work……………………………………………..2411. Realization Of My Mental State…………………………………..2612. Reaction After Realization………………………………………2913. Attaching To Someone……………………………………………3114. Losing Touch With All Else………………………………………3615. Drugs And Alochol………………………………………………4116. Making A Change………………………………………………..4417. Issues At Work…………………………………………………4718. Leading Health Care In The 21st Century Mental Health Resources
Available For Veterans……………………………………………..11519. Post Traumatic Stress Disorder…………………………………..11820. Seeking Help…………………………………………………..13621. First Step…………………………………………………….16622. Rough Ride…………………………………………………….16823. Bumps In The Road………………………………………………17224. Goodbye Flight…………………………………………………17925. A Special Friend……………………………………………….18426. Getting Out……………………………………………………18827. Divorce……………………………………………………….19228. Trips…………………………………………………………19929. Heavy Heart……………………………………………………21130. Looking Forward………………………………………………..21831. Glossary………………………………………………………22132. Acknowledgments………………………………………………..223

CHAPTER 1

DREAMS OR REALITY

Dreams:

• Series of thoughts, images, or emotions occurring during sleep.

• An experience of waking life having the characteristics of a dream as a visionarycreation of the imagination.

• A state of mind marked by abstraction or release from reality.

• An object seen in a dreamlike state: vision.

• Something notable for its beauty, excellence, or enjoyable quality.

• A strongly desired goal or purpose.

• Something that fully satisfies a wish.

Reality:

• The quality or state of being real.

• A real event, entity or state of affairs.

• The totality of real things and events.

• Something that is neither derivative nor dependent but exists necessarily.

• In actual fact.

It was just an average miserable morning. The temperature wasalready above 100 degrees and rising fast. The eastwardly wind hada mild breeze which only brought the stench of the surroundings tothe senses and did little to cool any of the soldiers loading up in theirvehicles for a mission.

The convoy was rolling out to a area that was well know to the BN(battalion). Numerous times the BN had sent out patrols that were metby IED’s (improvised exploding devices) in this area. Our informanthad narrowed down all of the activity to a small block. The mission tosecure the area and search for materials used in the manufacturing ofIED’s and the detention of any and all male occupants.

My HUMVEE was just a regular cargo which had the doors takenoff much to the displeasure of my BN CSM (command sergeantmajor). He felt it was unsafe to drive around without a door. Howmuch protection can a plastic door really be? All it was to me was ahindrance in getting in and out of the vehicle and also made it almostimpossible to fire as you were driving. But with the doors off andmy M4 strapped to my vest I easily could fire with some degree ofaccurately as I am a left handed firer.

As we approach the target area I get an uneasy feeling. I couldsee no dogs, no cows. It’s just too quiet. Where are all the kids thatare normally running after us begging for anything and everything?Something was just not right.

All of a sudden there is a loud blast and you hear the distinct soundof AK fire followed by the musical sound of the M2 machine gun, andM4’s firing back. I scan the area directly in front and to the side of me.I get a quick glimpse of movement in the small rise about 100 metersaway. I suddenly see a figure standing with what appears to be a RPG(rocket propelled grenade) on his shoulder aiming right at us.

The noise and confusion is all around us. I see the flames fromthe RPG and I quickly scream incoming jumping out of my vehicle(so much for wanting that plastic door), and try to take cover and rollover the edge of the road into a small ditch. I try to take up a goodhasty position and fire in the direction of where the RPG came from.Suddenly I feel the earth move as the RPG takes a direct hit to thevehicle directly behind mine. The M2 falls silent and for a very shortperiod of times it seems to be all quiet. Then I realize that it was a directhit to the vehicle and we have soldiers hurt. I hear someone in the truckmoaning for help. I don’t see anyone else around. Without thinking I getto my feet and turn and start to run toward the call for help.

It feels like slow motion as I attempt to make the short 20 yards tothe vehicle. All of a sudden I am not running but flying through the air.All I can hear is my ears ringing. I am thrown off the road and down alittle slope. My M4 is gone and I am dazed. I hear voices and it is notEnglish but Arabic. I feel a firm grip on my left shoulder. With all thestrength that I have left I lash out and swing my right fist over my leftshoulder and make a direct contact with the face of the Iraqi who hasgrabbed me. I hear the moan and see the blood start to come from theirnose. I feel their grasp lighten but I am not free yet. I let out a loudpiercing yell to alert my fellow soldiers that I am in trouble.

Suddenly I bolt upright, and look around, dazed and confusedand with a blurry grey view. Slowly reality starts to take hold and Iremember where I am and wonder what happened to the person thatI just swung at. For a brief moment I am confused and unsure aboutwhere I am or what is going on. I don’t dare move and I freeze like adeer at night being shined by a spotlight. My vision starts to clear andI see my wife’s face come into focus and I see the blood running out ofher nose. Still I sit there wondering what is real and what a nightmareis as I try to focus on what is happening in my mind. I can’t seem tocalm down or even relax. I know that the chances of me even closingmy eyes again are over for the night.

CHAPTER 2

ACT OF WAR

The act of war seems like it would be hard to some. Especially tothose who have never served in the armed forces. The truth is war issimple and easy for the most part; you just concentrate on the now.Weapons, ammunition, men, mission, sleep chow, mission, buddies,staying alert, and now and then you throw in a shower. With all thetraining you get to the point where you are almost a robot reacting towhat goes on around you. You follow your orders and missions andtry to stay focused. The memories of the life you left behind seem sofar away and can get more distance with time, and situations that goon. Your programming instills in you the reaction time for indirectfires, reaction to contact, and the dreaded IED going off. You do yourjob simple put. You do your job because that is who you are now. Tothink of the home life leaves you less focused. Most people who haveloved ones in harms way always worry when they hear nothing fromthem. The truth is that no news is good news. If something bad was tohappen to you your family would be the first to know. For they lock allphones and computers down until the next of kin is notified. Nothingcan be worse than hearing on the news that your loved one whether itis a solider or a civilian contractor is hurt or worse dead.

What theArmyRequires of you

War:

• Armed conflict between nations, states, or factions.

• A determined struggle especially for a specific goal

• A state of antagonism or discord

• Military techniques or procedures as a science

* To engage in armed conflict

* To struggle or contend

WorkingAroundReality

W.A.R. (working around reality). I would have to say the first stephere is to figure out what is reality and what is a fantasy or what is therealty in someone’s brain. If you believe the reality in your brain overwhat others perceive to be reality, then is it not reality to you? Whata question to ask the doctors out there. Is it better to make someonebelieve that reality is better than what one might believe to be reality?I guess the human in us says to ourselves that we need to makesomeone see the same as we see things. I bet many debates couldbe given over this. It is my belief that the effort should be made tomake someone see the real reality and to get away from what someoneperceives to be their reality.

If you act or react to a thought or a feeling, is this not real. Is it notreal at least to you? I would have to say that what I thought or felt wastrue was a little tainted to say the least. It seemed the more I thoughtthat things were a certain way the more they were that way. It is sortof like a catch 22. How do we change that thought, and the betterquestion how do we get to the point where we know that we need todo something to change things? I bet there is some out there who arecopping but who are on the edge in ways. Maybe this is where we getthe POSTAL SYDROM from.

I guess it is a little like being an alcoholic. When does it get tothe point where the alcohol is controlling you? The better question ishow we know that it is controlling us. Surely no one wants to admitthat they have fallen prey to something that “normal” people do everyday. How do we get someone to sit and really think about some of thechoices that they have made? How can we put their decisions in frontof them so bluntly that they can finally see what they have becomeor have given up on or worse just plain forgot about? For I know thatthe sanctuary that I built up to protect myself can and did turn intoa prison. The key was finally realizing that I did not want to be hereanymore and to start searching for some answers to some questionthat I was afraid to ask and worse yet afraid to hear the answers to.How does one find that thing that they can ground themselves to sothey want to change? Then the issue comes when we know we haveoutgrown that thing that has grounded us, even though the thing hasbrought us back to reality. Guess it is kind of like the 12 steps . . .How many steps does it take to get someone to where they are contentto not try anymore to fix things? I can’t answer this because I have notfound out or made it there yet. Don’t think I ever will. Better to keepfocused on how things are and remember how they were so that snakedoesn’t get me.

Yes I need to remember as much as I can so I won’t try and runaway. Not only in the sense of really running but also in the sense ofavoiding my mind, my past, my thoughts. After all if you run awayfrom your thought, fears, or even dealing with situations in front ofyou, how can you ever tackle them? Things never go away withoutany help. A big gust of wind might stir up some leaves if the season isright, and cover that brown patch of your lawn. That patch that alwaysheld your eyes focused to. Now it all looks the same, but is it the sameor is it just a pretty dress on the wicked old wolf that if given the rightopportunity will gobble you up. That wolf will always be there. Thatwolf will never go away. Just remembering this is a big step in theright direction. You can’t forget about what is lying in wait. Keep thegun loaded. In other words keep your mind focused on the positive,enough that you can overcome any negative thought or situations thatwill come your way. Either that or fall prey again.

CHAPTER 3

GETTING READY TO GOING HOME

Finally the event that I never thought would get here. Actually I neverthought of it until the end. Easier to stay focused and do your job. Youcan say that the life I left behind in the states I left out of my mind. Betterthat way I think … Priorities are changing not only for me but also forall the other soldiers who are finally getting to go home to their familiesand their lives. The freezers and refrigerators that were once a greatcomity seem silly, though most of the soldiers get a quick buck from therelieving unit. Me I remember what it was like when we arrived. Howthere was no shower, what little water we had was far warmer then pisswarm. Even the freezers when we finally got them, never really gaveyou the chance to drink lots of cold water. Seems the 120 to 140 degreesseem to not take much time to melt the ice and warm the water up.

For me I wish no gain from the items that I had acquiredthroughout the year. Even my swimming pool that my mother sent mewas just given away to the new solider with a smile and a wish of goodfortune. Afraid that I would change my mind and they would losetheir booty he tried to force money on me. Seemed everyone else wasselling theirs. Funny couldn’t anyone else remember the hardship thatwe all endured when we first arrived on this wonderful FOB (forwardoperating base). No bathrooms. No showers, no water, hell no livingquarters. It was a scramble to find your area to build something whereyou could just lay your head down. With a warm wish I laughed andsaid enjoy. Keep your money I am going home.

I did tell my mom that I left the pool there and just gave it away. Youwould think maybe she would be a little mad that I did not appreciate thegift. This was not the case. I think the fact that the pool would be thereand enjoyed by other soldiers seem to please her. As such it should. Iknow you could tell that he really was surprised and excited about what Ihad left him. It would seem so little to have back at home yet a quite a lotto have over here in Iraq. Most were happy to get a refrigerator, and here Igave him a pool with a deck and a connex (metal box living quarters) fullyfurnished. To include protective sand bags full of scorpions all around it.

CHAPTER 4

LAST MAN OUT

SOME ONE HAD TO BE the last man out of FOB (forward operatingbase) Orion. So I volunteered … something they tell you never todo. Together with Smutley (a nickname I had for a sergeant who useto be in my tow platoon years ago) we were expose to check our BNarea for anything left behind and communicate with the new unit onany last minute questions that they might have. It was expose to takea couple weeks but only ended up taking four days. We then hitched aride with a patrol going to FOB Anaconda. Our last patrol in countryseemed short in ways and long in others, as the adrenalin was runningthrough my veins. Worse than I ever thought it was before. Could Iactually forget about Iraq and just enjoy a quiet ride without all thebombs and bullets flying around. No and it seemed the closer we wereto getting to the front gate the more my mind was visioning the noiseand smoke of the attack that was surely to come. It was uneventful asfar as any action from ant coalition forces goes on the road but insidemy mind it was the most dangerous ride that I was ever on.

When we finally got inside Anaconda I did relax some. Nowall I had to worry about was the daily indirect fire attacks, whichfor the most part had no real pattern of control, mostly just roundsblindly being shot into the FOB. Still it seemed a lot more peacefuland I could almost enjoy the fact that all I had to worry about wasSmutly and I catching a ride to Kuwait. Just the two of us with no realurgency to be anywhere on time … It was really nice and relaxingwhile it lasted. We did finally catch up with the last of our unit in FOBAnaconda staying in big tents with nice comfortable cots where youwaited for a seat on a plane to go to Kuwait.

The wait lasted a few days and consisted of attending a coupleformations a day and then just laying around trying to deal with theanticipation of finally getting on a plane and out of this country. Thesirens of the indirect attacks happening on the FOB seemed to havelittle effect on us, and no one in our unit even runs to the barriers thathave been placed around for protection from them. Laughingly wewatch as others run to the safety of them. We just dumb grunts whodon’t want to play no more and all we can focus on is getting out ofthis god forsaken country.

Finally we get a chalk (military version of a boarding pass) toKuwait on a C130. The take off was so steep you would think that theywere trying to go to outer space. This steep climb is a tactic that theAir force uses to get the planes out of small arms / RPG / anti-aircraftrange in a hurry. The tactic makes for an interesting takeoff. I guessgetting shot at would be interesting also, maybe even a little morememorable. Though I am sure I have had enough of that already.

CHAPTER 5

KUWAIT TO DRUM

Kuwait is just a quick stop. It’s December 31st and the army wants us outof country before the New Year. Don’t want to pay the combat pay. Great,I would gladly give it all back if I did not have to come in the first place.Something’s or some places are just not worth any amount of money. Sothings should move a little faster now. Just fast enough to get our cardsswiped logging us out of country, and then things seem to slow down.No longer is there such an urgency to get us moving. Of course as weswiped our cards we walked into a plane. Now we cannot leave the planebecause we are not in country anymore. Funny if we are not in countrywhere are we? It is like we are in Purgatory; we sit around waiting tobe judged worthy of leaving, or maybe just waiting for our turn to go tothe gate. So we all end up yelling happy New Year sitting on the runwaylocked in the plane. What a way to start the New Year.

Of course being the last plane out for the BN leaves us with asmaller number. Great not so crowded or so one would think. Withevery positive there always is a negative. Our negative is that witha smaller number means a smaller plane and the plane can’t fly allthe way to Ft Drum without refueling. First time in my life I get toyell happy New Year three times in three different countries and threedifferent time zones. So if are standing on the Hoover Dam and thinkthat it’s great to yell happy New Year and then take a step to wait foranother hour to yell happy New Year for the second time and thinkthat it is great and is the most times that anyone can yell happy NewYear you are mistaken. Wonder what the most times someone got toyell happy New Year in a single day? Maybe the astronauts get to yellit in all the times zones. Funny all the time zones at almost the sametime. Instead of waiting an hour they could wait only a second. Guessthat makes me look small. Of course if you out there everything lookssmall. Wonder if Ripley ever thought of that. It was nice to actuallyspeak to my family from Ireland at the stroke of midnight. I meanmost Irish people dream of something like this, some moment to last alife time. If only I was Irish. Well I do remember it and sure I will fora life time. Thanks Uncle Sam.
(Continues…)Excerpted from PTSD AND ME by DENNIS JAMES WILLIAMS. Copyright © 2013 Retired MSG Dennis James Williams. Excerpted by permission of iUniverse LLC.
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