Christopher\’s Story

Right out of high school, at 17 years old, I joined the Marine Corps. In 2001, I was on the silent drill team in Washington, DC. When 9/11 happened, I volunteered to join the fleet marine force as infantry. I spent over a year in training including jungle warfare and urban assault, and then went to Kuwait to invade Iraq. I was there for Operation Iraqi Freedom and Operation Enduring Freedom as a Scout Sniper. I came out in 2005 as an E5 Sergeant.
Immediately after returning to civilian life, it became clear to me and my family that I needed intense help. I spent 4 weeks in a voluntary Returning OEF/OIF/OND Veterans’ Environment of Recovery (ROVER) program, which is an intensive treatment program designed specifically for combat veterans with a diagnosis of PTSD, substance dependence, mood or anxiety disorders. I came out of that treatment determined to bury the PTSD and other diagnoses and live a normal life.
However, “normal” eluded me. I spent years destroying relationships with friends and family with violent outbursts that were often fueled by alcohol abuse. Violent outbursts would then be replaced by drugged stupor as I would often abuse the medications prescribed to me in order to numb the pain and shame I felt from hurting the people who loved me most. I knew that this cycle was a self-destructive one, but could not break out. Night terrors and insomnia were the norm for me. I went through periods of unemployment and couch surfing, lost custody of my daughter, was arrested for assault and DWIs.
Then, 3 years ago, I met the woman who is now my wife. When I met her, I had just lost another job, was on the verge of eviction, and though I tried to keep it hidden, my PTSD and substance abuse problems were at an all-time high. Somehow, she saw right through all of that and decided that she was going to love me anyway.
Right away she suggested that I avail myself of the programs that the VA has available. Pride, however, kept me from getting the help I needed. I kept telling her [and myself] that I could handle this, and that I did not need help. I refused to accept that as an able bodied man, I could be labeled as “disabled.” I did not die in combat, I did not lose any limbs, and so I was not going to allow that label.
It has been a long, bumpy road. Night terrors, self-destructive behavior, and one too many drunken outbursts were threatening to destroy this relationship along with the others I had left in my past. But this time it was different. I knew that I had finally met my person. The one who knew all the demons in my head, and loved me completely anyway. The one who would not give up on me. The one who would not let me give up on myself. It took a long time for me to admit that I still needed help, and that burying my PTSD diagnosis was not helpful or healthy. But I finally did.
I have been sober for 6 months now and am seeking therapy for my PTSD at the VA. I regained custody of my daughter last year. I got married and began taking classes again part time this past summer. I have an A under my belt from summer school, and hope to get 3 more this semester. Between the 2 of us, my wife and I have 4 children, ranging in age from 8 to 13. We expect a lot from them academically, and now, it is fun to have them turn around and have that same expectation from me. I cannot let them down. They keep me accountable.
My short term goal is to finish my bachelor’s degree in business. I am already picturing crossing the stage in 3 years or so with my wife and kids in the audience cheering for me. After that, I’m not sure. I have always wanted to be my own boss, so perhaps I will start a business. Maybe I will continue on to law school and start a law firm with her. But I do know that I want my family to be proud of me, and I want to show our children that education is important, and that it is never too late to pursue one.

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