If suggesting that letting go was actually the best and easiest option, then the world be a different place and I would of “fixed” myself long ago. Might as well hand the novice a boomerang in a shaming pose and quietly say, “Throw it.”
I have been angry for most of my life and all too often I take it out on people close to me. When my mother was alive, she carried the brunt of my rage. I did not know why but back then it felt like she was the source of it all. It probably kept me out of prison. On some level she may have known, and took my verbal abuse. Betty was an anger sink for me, keeping me safe when blaming and railing against her for my vulnerability.
With my mother, I wasn't jesting with the world against the stacked house of facades we call society. Done enough, you may find your face filleted. If you are lucky, I'm told. I was better able to fair storms when she lived. When veterans and families have a strong support network, living with the consequences of war is hard enough. For those with little to no support, or loose it they will more often spiral out of control.
The house of facades becomes a disorientating sea of emotions, memories and nightmares lost in the waves hurt, delusion, pain and rage for vets with Complex PTSD and Moral Injury. Any one distortion to our self-image could trip a hallucination, attack with your delusions and I
Hurt can become a stoking force under bridges. ~ Scott Lee
Moral Injury, it tries to kill me most days. For us trusting comes too quick, or not fast enough. Hurt, can become a heat sink drowning out reason and clarity. It is rooted in my hate for me, I get that.
I see the struggle for people to take the amount of sorrow silently exuding from my pores. Imagine the internal state one must carry to radiate this energy. It is uncomfortable, I get it. Let's not forget the lion tongue cuts both ways, see my face.
One of the best medicines I have found, is the person willing to sit with you in your sorrow. Whether I am raging at unseen forces, or help me brave the deafening silence.
The crashing waves atop the sea looks scary, to you. I know the unrealized terror of the undercurrents, invisible to the reality above and carry the most power. Where we begin to see scary sea swimming on top, my third eye is constantly churning. Just because we don't talk about it or have a good day, does not mean we do not think about what we did and saw every day.
Not one vet deployed to combat and seen or participated in inflicting high casualty rates comes back unchanged. Apathetic, angry at everyone, betrayed by the media and government on all fronts. Why wouldn't we feel apathetic to your plight, when our problems kill us? We get high profile "veterans" organizations pulling in multi-millions, but those vets get rock star treatment while it's filmed for promotional purposes.
Stop telling veterans to let go. The only way to let go of PTSD is by death, and too many veterans succumb to the ravages of posttramatic stress. I dare say few of us give up, more like died while waiting on care. Someone care now?
