Page 435 - Total War on PTSD

I remember sitting with my mom at Thanksgiving. She looked at me directly in the eyes and, with a disapproving tone, asked me, “Where are you?” I didn’t know. I knew I wasn’t there. My body was present, but in every other way, I was dead.
I felt that I had died in Ramadi, Iraq. My body came home but my spirit stayed behind. I kept secrets. I isolated myself from the world. Life was happening, but I certainly wasn’t living.
But before long, something changed. I heard a REBOOT outreach team member speak one weekend. He shared his struggles with suicide. He talked about three lies that people often believe about their identities — first, that we are what we do; second, that we are what others think of us; and third, that our best days are behind us.
As he spoke about his battles with false guilt and identity, it was as if he was reading my very soul. So I decided to attend an event for training REBOOT leaders. I assumed I could sneak in and put on a good face as a leader while I checked out the program.
Within only a few minutes of the training, I realized that I couldn’t become a leader. In fact, I needed to be led. I needed help, so I registered for the upcoming REBOOT Combat Recovery course in Clarksville, Tennessee.
I remember walking into my REBOOT first meeting. Something struck me as strange. Everyone was smiling and seemed so freaking happy. What did they all have to smile about? Wasn’t this a combat trauma healing group? Aren’t we supposed to sit around and hear each other’s war stories and complain about the VA? But everyone seemed to be happy. It didn’t make sense!
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