In the publicity surrounding the more obvious symptoms of Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD) and Traumatic Brain Injuries (TBIs), not much attention is given to other “lesser” aftereffects of combat/combat trauma. I imagine that – in the widespread attention that PTSD receives – these things are simply getting lost in the shuffle. Unfortunately, this is precisely the problem. Unlike flashbacks or nightmares,
anniversaries have the habit of sneaking up on you.
Perhaps two weeks ago, I remember a day where I felt “foggy.” While I was fully functional, it was less than usual. Like driving through a heavy rain: you can do it, but visibility is low, it requires lots more concentration, and you're thoroughly exhausted whenever you arrive. What I normally juggled mentally without a second thought was actually requiring concentration. I figured I was merely tired. I was not pleased when it persisted throughout the entire day and well into the next.
Four days later, still wondering if I'm not sleeping right, if there's something wrong with me, I remembered the date. Almost to the day, one year ago had me in Afghanistan experiencing some of the intensest fighting, ambushes and frequent base attacks I've ever encountered (across three tours as a Marine infantryman and two more as a combat journalist). Two continuous weeks of something every day. An ambush outside the wire, another ambush minutes later, a rocket over the COP, an RPG, machine gun fire strafing the chow tent (with us in it, no less).
I remember things being extremely tense, stressful, and restless, but that was it. I was not expecting it to show up again. But the subconscious memory (or perhaps the “limbic” brain) catalogs many experiences far more vividly than we may realize.
According to the Veterans Affairs National Center for PTSD website (www.ptsd.va.gov/), anniversary reactions “range from feeling mildly upset for a day or two to a more extreme reaction with more severe mental health or medical symptoms.” And, as I mentioned before, they can sneak up on you.
In my case, I noted a general lack of mental acuity, accompanied by a reduced ability to concentrate, manage a complex schedule, and a shorter (than usual) temper. Others may experience feelings of general of unease or that they're not safe. Some might even feel hyper-aroused (re-experiencing the event(s), avoiding similar situations, or extremely edgy). Not knowing what it is can make it all the more frustrating, too. As is often the case with “veterans’ issues,” I caught myself repeatedly wondering, “what the heck is wrong with me?” The answer, friends, is this: Nothing at all.
Anniversaries are remarkably normal, and they actually aren't even restricted to the military or combat experiences. Look at 9-11, for example. For many this date is an anniversary and has accompanying anniversary reactions. These reactions range from just solemnity or for others – perhaps those who lost a friend in one of the three attacks – it's a revisiting of the grief experienced when the friend first died. With 9-11, of course, it has been redeemed into a nationally-recognized time of remembering, honoring, and resilience. Personally, whether our anniversary pertains to the loss of a friend in a combat zone, an injury we ourselves sustained, intense fighting or something else entirely, we too can redeem our reactions.
For starters, we can anticipate these dates. A reaction that we are expecting is far less debilitating than one that catches us off guard. If it’s something so minor as highlighting a few significant days on the calendar, do it. Consider it a “heads up” to yourself. The VA suggests – much like 9-11 – creating rituals. Visiting a gravesite, for example, tops the list. Simply put, turn a terrible experience into one of remembrance.
Mary James, Executive Director of COVER, Inc. (a private-practice clinic providing services for combat veterans in Charlottesville, Virginia) believes that there are many things to consider about anniversaries. “Self-nurture,” she says, is paramount. Rather than bury ourselves in routines (distractions), we should relax a bit; take care of ourselves. Consider that the body and mind are attempting to live two lives at once: our current life and then the life we experienced during the traumatic event(s). Survival kicks in.
James suggests that we spend some time alone, but also know when it's wise to surround ourselves with friends, too. If we have hobbies, she says, now's the time to tinker. I would summarize her statements as this: take care of ourselves, be patient with ourselves, and know our limits. If, for example, it's hard to be in a crowd during that period, plan accordingly. More than anything else (in my opinion), don't let it sneak up on you.
While the effects of anniversary reactions may be far-reaching and never truly leave us (as much as we may wish them to), we can at least anticipate them, limit their influence on our daily lives, and perhaps transform them into personally-significant memorials. What the body naturally remembers (often against our will), we can remember far better in our heads and hearts.
© 2011, Ben Shaw