Page 2 - Nellis AFB Bullseye 10-30-15

2 October 30, 2015
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Home is where the heart is
By Airman 1st Class Christian Clausen
432nd Wing/432nd Air Expeditionary Wing Public Affairs
CREECH AIR FORCE BASE, Nev.
— The saying goes, “a picture is worth a
thousand words.” For me, this adage holds
especially true when I look at one specific
picture.
Since I saw it last October and every time
I’ve looked at it since, I reminisce about the
place I left in order to serve my country and
about the memories I hold from there. It’s
amazing and thought-provoking how one
place has helped cultivate all the things that
make me the man I am today — and how
one image can release so many memories
from a dark, tucked-away corner and bring
them to renewed clarity.
It’s almost haunting at first, but really
it’s just a picture of an empty shed. The
once-cluttered shelves full of tools are now
covered with just a thick layer of dust, and
where the cars had resided are now home
to just a few blotchy, faded oil stains on the
concrete floor.
Nestled between three cornfields on a
200-acre farm in Iowa, this 45-by-60 foot
wooden shed had, like a mother to her child,
sheltered the nuts and bolts, the tools, and
the vehicles my family used to get their work
done for 37 years.
Coping with PTSD
By Shannon Collins
Defense Media Activity
ARLINGTON, Va. — As a disabled Air
Force veteran living with post-traumatic
stress from military sexual trauma, I’ve
had my good days and bad days but all of
my hard work over the past two years paid
off when I recently achieved one of my
goals — completing my first full marathon,
the Marine Corps Marathon.
I had a difficult childhood. My father
committed suicide when I was five years
old, and my mother struggled to raise three
children on her own. Right before I joined
the Air Force, I was sexually assaulted. I
joined the Air Force to serve my country,
because my father had served in the Air
Force and because I’ve had family in all of
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Commentary
For almost 13 years the farm was my
favorite place in the world, and even though
I never lived there, it’s still the place I call
home — though I never really told anyone
that.
From the time I was seven or eight years
old I spent entire summers there with my
grandparents and my cousin, who’s five
years my senior. To pass the time, we would
play trading card games, X-box, baseball,
swim in the river, or build random things
out of scrap pieces of wood.
It was on the farm where my cousin even-
tually sparked my interest in baseball, which
would play a major part in my life and bring
me so much happiness. Even though I wasn’t
very good at first — a point made after I
missed the ball with my glove and caught
it with my face instead — he continued to
coach me and grow my love for the game.
As my interest in the game peaked, it
wasn’t uncommon for my grandparents
to find us practicing, out between the old
shed by the road and the tire swing next to
the old gnarled apple tree. Those summers
helped set the foundation of my skills and
eventually led me to an exceptional middle
and high school career pitching 85 mph
fastballs.
My knowledge and love for the game, as
with just about everything else I know how
the services throughout the years. We’ve
served since the Revolutionary War.
Five years ago, I was sexually assaulted
for the second time while I was serving
overseas. I became very depressed and
gained about 50 pounds. I had been en-
listed and then an officer in public affairs.
My friends and co-workers noticed that I
became withdrawn and less social but I
wouldn’t tell them what happened. It af-
fected my work performance, and I finally
went to mental health about a year later for
depression and anxiety.
I was seeking help when I was hit with
the drawdown after 14 years in the service.
My career was everything to me, so this hit
me hard. I hit bottom and almost checked
myself into an inpatient hospital for men-
tal health for my depression because of
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to do, I learned at the farm. I learned how
to drive, fix cars, wood work, lay concrete,
mow lawns, shoot guns, paint, skateboard
and work — all at the farm.
But those are just the physical things I
learned on the farm. While these physical
skills and strengths paid dividends in my
life, like when I helped build the addition on
my great-grandmother’s house, ultimately it
was the mental strength I learned there that
impacted my life the most, such as when my
great-grandpa’s legs had to be amputated.
These mental abilities helped me know
the difference between right and wrong,
stay out of trouble, and overcome adversity.
These skills, along with the support of my
family, helped me overcome my lingering
feeling of regret for not spending more time
with my great-grandpa before he died, and
gave me the courage to stop being scared
and stand up to my stepfather when he was
abusing my mother.
Essentially, it was on the farm where
I learned how to be the man I am today.
The time spent with my grandpa, grandma
and my father while on the farm or on the
45-minute drive to and from is where I
learned the morals, values, dedication and
hard work ethic that would help guide me
to serve this great country.
When the time came and my grandpar-
suicidal thoughts. I finally admitted what
happened to me and went to the Air Force
Office of Special Investigations to report
the assault.
I went home for six months and went
back to school but I missed what I know
and love, public affairs, writing about ser-
vice members, and how important they are
to the military. Luckily, I found a govern-
ment job at Defense Media Activity.
Addiction runs in my family, so I didn’t
want to turn to alcohol or drugs to deal
with my post-traumatic stress disorder. My
father had turned to both before he died.
Instead, I found a new passion — running.
While I had been on activity duty, the
doctors had told me I couldn’t run any-
more because I have osteoarthritis in both
knees, and I have to get injections of fake
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ents sold the farm, the pain was so sudden,
as if I had been given a right hook to the gut.
Bam! It hit me hard.
There had been talk of selling the farm
for a long time, but I never thought it would
actually happen.
When I first got the news we sold it, I
didn’t know how to take it. After seeing
that picture it all sunk in; the emotions, the
memories and the realization that I’d never
be able to return to the one stable home I’ve
ever had in my life.
No longer will I be able to spend my
holidays there, fish in the river, climb the
old gnarled apple tree, or build more addi-
tions to the farm. No longer will I be able
to just sit out on the hill in solitude when
I’m stressed out.
As the holidays approach I hope that,
even without the farm, they will still feel
the same.
My last chance to say goodbye to the farm
will serve as another important live event for
me. The new owners of the property have
agreed to let my family use it one last time
during my wedding this upcoming summer.
Even though I may not be able to return
to the farm in the future, I will forever call it
my home. With the start of my new family,
I hope to find a home as impactful for my
children as the farm was for me.
cartilage every six months. I had run track
in junior high school, mainly sprinting,
and had only run in the military for my
physical training tests. But when I started
running, I found peace, joy and started
finding my confidence again.
I ran my first half marathon last Novem-
ber at Disneyland and was hooked. You get
to run through the parks before they open,
and there is so much crowd support and
people cheering you on. After the race, I
found some Disney running groups on
Facebook and have met up with them at
other Disney races.
I’ve also been more active with the
Wounded Warrior Project, and during
my long run training, I imagine some of
___________ See PTSD, on page 6
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