Saving Each Other

Saving Each Other: The story of how a Vietnam Veteran and GWOT Veteran helped each other step out of the darkness of combat. 

I am a massage therapist. In this profession I come in contact with clients who not only need physical care for the treatment of muscular structure, but often times come in with a need for emotional and spiritual support. Clients will often come in with a painful back and end up having an emotional release. I do not bring any negative energy to the room nor do I force positive energy. I remain neutral as a means to facilitate an environment of comfort. 

What most of my clients don’t know is that I am a combat veteran. I have served in the armed forces for 19 years with one year remaining till retirement. I don’t speak of my time in the military with my clients because the image of a soldier is far from the relaxation and comfort they seek.

That transition from spending over a year in the Middle East to being back in America is not one I could explain in writing at this time. It is something that only combat veterans understand. I internalized my anger, drank from the moment I woke up till the moment I passed out and continued my days being alive on the outside. I did my best to hide what was inside by pushing others away and remaining alone.

When I came home from my first deployment in 2004 I made the mistake of volunteering for the position of a recruiter.  I was stationed in California and lived in a smaller suburb of Long Beach. Each day I’d leave my home as the only uniformed member of my neighborhood and climb into my large white bronco with 38” super swamper tires, a 12” lift and custom sticker spanning across the back window that boldly read, “Busting Our Ass to Save Yours! US Army.”

As I pulled away from the curb my neighbor across the way would kindly post a new florescent poster board with a hand written sharpie message on a stake in the grass. I felt honored that someone took the time to think of me daily. The fact that seeing my uniform stirred up such hate and anger toward every man and woman who has ever served, to then force a hand to write such flamboyant, irrational, ignorant opinions on pink florescent poster board has me laughing still to this day.

The negative opinions of my countrymen and women didn’t stop me from walking past the anti-war protesters in my uniform. They had something to say with their liberal tongues and display table in front of the bank every Thursday and I had a fake smile to pass on knowing I afforded them that freedom.  I wasn’t spit on like a Vietnam veteran. My welcome home wasn’t even a fraction as brutal as they had received. For every 5 people who made it a point to converse with me one would have something positive to say along with a thank you.

It took me 10 years to come to the decision that I needed to fix myself. What I had struggled to keep inside was now affecting my family, my career, legal matters and my struggle to stay alive. I realized that it was time to no longer serve in a full-time capacity with the military. I stepped down to part-time with the National Guard because I couldn’t completely let go. I sought alternative treatment for anger management and depression away from the Veterans Affairs quick and deadly remedy of pills. I decided to move on to a career that brought peace in my life.

Choosing to become a massage therapist brought that internal peace I needed. It gave me an opportunity to help others, which was an important aspect of who I am and what I wanted out of life. What I didn’t expect was to meet a client that would help me.

A retired gentleman came to me as a client in need of work a couple months after his surgery. He had completed physical therapy and was looking to further his healing process. After our first session he was impressed with how well his muscles were responding and continued to book weekly with me. Once a week for 6 months he’d arrive at the same time. I’d look forward to our appointments as if it was a special date.  He is by far one of the most charismatic, honorable and stubborn men I have ever had the pleasure of meeting.

Rich is a retired Naval Officer who served in the Vietnam War. After a few sessions he’d open up to me about his military experience. He’d talk about his physical struggle as a teen with a debilitating disease. He explained his driving force behind wanting to join the military and wanting to fly.  Each story was filled with excitement and adventure. He’d be so involved in a story that I wouldn’t want to stop him even after I had already heard it twice before. He shared his accomplishments as much as his failures. I often told him I hope he will write a book one day about his life.

The week before Rich and I met I had gone to the VA to enroll myself in a Substance Abuse Treatment Program. After 10 years of shutting down and using alcohol to forget, I made a decision to quit hiding. This program not only addressed my used of alcohol, but also provided treatment and small group discussions in bereavement, anger management, post-traumatic stress, and physical abuse. Addressing each of those areas made my pain raw and my spirit vulnerable. There were pieces of me that I continued to keep to myself and not share with the groups. My level of anger would spike when men who were taking advantage of the free health system would ramble on about their irrelevant fabricated stories.

One day in particular, an infantryman who served in the 80’s and never left the island of Hawaii in his 4 short military years insulted the entire group. He busted out insults about each veteran’s military occupation and said they were support positions and didn’t do anything worthy of actually having PTSD. Any military member who has served in any war and conflict since WWII knows there are no enemy lines. All in a combat zone run the risk of using their weapons to fight back an enemy who sees neither gender nor military specialty. He wouldn’t know since his claim is that being in boot camp and the rigorous training of infantry school traumatized him so much that he is trying to get a disability rating for PTSD 35 years later.

I sat there with my mouth shut and anger boiling over as he pointed to an older gentleman in the corner. He shouted at him, “What have you done? What was your job? You sit there in the corner all quiet day after day. I bet you didn’t do shit.”

Another man stood up and said, “He was in Vietnam.”

That day was one of the hardest for me to get through. I afforded that lying manipulative veteran to be put right back in his none combat experience place (without physically ripping him there), but that is another story. All I could think of to get me through the level of anger and boiling point was that in a few days I’d get to see Rich. To me he is a real hero and honorable warrior who understood through his experience what I was going through without a word spoken on my part.

There came a point where Rich opened up about the darkest moments of his life. I’d continue to work on his ailments as he poured forth his time in Vietnam and the greatest pains he had kept inside of himself for 50 years. I often struggled to hold back tears as he let me into this part of his past. His openness was healing me. Our experiences are far different, but no one escapes war without emotional scars. In me was a deep hidden fear and hurt that bonded with his loss and regret.

To Rich I was a person who facilitated an environment where he could open up. He continues to tell me how much he appreciates my listening and understanding. He even gave me the nickname Sky Angel because I dropped out of the sky to be an angel when he needed one. He said that he has told me things that no one else has gotten out of him. What he doesn’t know is that through his willingness to share his story, he was able to carry a fellow veteran through a difficult time. I have begun to heal. That is a gift he has given to me.

Rich, I have written this as a thank you note. Keep it as an encouragement to begin to write.  Through allowing yourself to be vulnerable and open up you have saved another veteran’s life.  I welcome you to share our story, that other combat veterans might have a deeper understanding as to why we need to talk to each other. I attended the Veteran’s Writing Project in OXB last year, 2014. I have now begun to write my story. Because of the example you have been in my life to start healing internal wounds I now know how much more important it is for me to do the same for other veterans.

Sincerely,

SFC JenX

US Army (Almost Retired!)

Aka Sky Angel