Dear MF: My Husband Has PTSD

Good Evening ladies and gentlemen, standing here tonight I am honoured to share my family’s story. I stand here not alone but with and for all the families that are suffering. 
 My name is Linda Blanchette and I am married to a wonderful, selfless man who dedicated 29 years of his life to the military serving as a Police Officer. Without my husband’s strength I would not be here tonight. He is giving me permission to not only tell his story but to tell our story of living with PTSD.  It takes so much strength to reach out to those that may need a hand. Joss and I have been married for 35 years; we are each others rock. We have 3 beautiful children, Marc 30 years old and Christopher and Aime our twins that are now 27. Our kids are also telling part of their stories through me.

Before Joss got sick we were a very loving family with lots of friends, we were always doing something or entertaining. We have gone through lots of ups and downs together and I am so happy to say that although the road has been tough we now walk it together with unconditional love and understanding.

As I said Joss was a police officer who witnessed and was subjected to many horrible things as many law enforcement or first responders encounter while performing their duties. While posted in Winnipeg Joss left for training in Petawawa. He was there from September until the end of October 1994 in preparation for his tour of duty in Bosnia. There he would serve as a United Nations Military Policeman with other nations to include France, Belgium and the Ukraine. He served there from November 94 to May 95; he was home for two weeks leave then left to go back again and just before returning home from the tour Joss learned that he would be promoted and posted later in the summer. On May 29th Joss landed home to a Hero’s welcome, as there was at least 20 of us at the airport to see him. It seemed he only had a moment to catch his breath as a few days after his homecoming the posting was confirmed. We would be moving to Shilo, Manitoba, 130 kilometres down the road. He had to report to work in Shilo on the 30th of June; however, there was no house for us to move into so myself and our children stayed behind until Aug when we finally got a PMQ together, (Military Housing). We were together for a week then Joss left on a course to Borden Ontario until just before Christmas. Finally, after 15 months we were going to be a family again. The kids and I were so exited to get back to a normal life.

Boy was I wrong. I started to notice that things with Joss were not as they were before. Joss had been a coach for a boy’s hockey league for quite a while. At games I would notice that he had started ducking when doors were slammed in the rink or when the puck him the boards. Joss started drinking more and his moods were changing fast. In the past Joss was not one to get angry, as he had so much patience but now it did not seem to take much for him to fly off the handle. I tried to talk to him about it but he said that he just had to get used to being around us again. As this situation continued I finally got the nerve and went to the base hospital to seek help, to get answers to my questions. I was told to “get over it”, they claimed that since we had been apart for a long time that things had changed, the kids got bigger, we had moved and life in general was so different. I was also told to be more understanding that I had to give control back to him and let him get used to the family again. We had to be patient.

In Jul 97 Joss got posted to Trenton where we are still living. Just like before there was no military housing ready for us and we could not afford to buy a house at the time. Joss left alone for six weeks and came back in the middle of August to get us and then we moved in a PMQ on Labour Day weekend. By then I thought I was losing my mind, I felt so alone and hoped that a move together would give us a fresh start. I was hoping we had left the bad stuff behind us. Well, life got a little more difficult. I began to think that I was going crazy. The kids started to distance themselves from Joss.   For example they would not wake Joss up anymore as he would come up swinging… We weren’t aware of it at the time, but when we did wake him we were pulling him out of night terrors. He would either wake up screaming or swinging his fists. He started to yell at the kids more for little things. He was drinking more and I was beginning to think, “What is wrong with me, why can’t I help him.” I had no one to talk to or get help from. We were alone in a new province with no friends or family closed by.
After the Christmas holidays, in January of 1998 Joss left for Montreal for slightly over a month. He was there to help out with the Ice Storm that had hit, working a 15 hour nightshift as he was crew supervisor for 20 MP’s. 
 In September of 1998 Joss suffered his first major heart attack. It was the first of 4 heart attacks he would suffer the others were in 2000, 2002 and 2004. In 1998 following his first one the military hospital sent him to the Ottawa Heart Institute. The head cardiologist approached me and asked me if Joss had been diagnosed with PTSD. I said, “No”, and then asked him what PTSD is. After we got home I started to do research. The Dr. in Ottawa referred him to the Military Hospital in Ottawa which had a clinic for mental health. After a few appointments going back and forth from Trenton to Ottawa for a few months the Dr confirmed that he had depression and PTSD. 
OK so now what? 
He began to get help, travelling back and forth to Ottawa but there was not much for our family. We were definitely alone. Finally, there was a 5 day course that began for spouses at NDHQ hospital (the military hospital). I was really excited to see what they had to say, plus to see that I really was not alone feeling the way I did. This helped me a lot and I kept in contact with the ladies for a few years. There are now only two of us still married out of the 8 that were on the course. 
Kim Guest was a member of the medical staff, I will never forget her. She was my angel. She had our kids come to Ottawa to talk to them and to explain what PTSD is all about. She helped our children understand why their father had not come back from Bosnia the same man he used to be.

Things were going better for a while, it was one day at the time, and I could never be sure. It was one thing to not feel the same, but I never knew if our home was safe, never mind, normal. Our new normal was walking on eggshells. 
The kids never went to their father anymore. With treatment going Joss was experiencing more nightmares, more mood swings. It was not a good experience to lie down in the same bed as my husband because it was not always safe; however, what was I to do? I had literally run out of places to hide at night. 
There was this one time I woke up on the floor with Joss covering me yelling, “INCOMING!” I had learned not to get upset with Joss, but to reassure him that we were in home. I told him “Joss, I’m your wife. We are in our home, you are safe” He then looked at me and said “why are we on the floor?” Right after that he got back in bed and went to sleep. I got up of the floor and laid awake most of the night.

There was a time I would get home before the kids to check on the house to make sure he was safe and alive. I was so afraid he could commit suicide. I was becoming the mother who was working full time, a father, a referee, a nurse, a taxi driver, ect.

I AM OK, NO?

Joss could not work anymore and then I began to worry about money. When I was at work Joss would go to auctions. This was something he could control for himself. Some of the stuff he brought home we did not need and our home was beginning to get cluttered. He would start projects in our house but rarely finish them. I was getting very worried about paying the bills. He would take money out of the bank and blow it.

I was beginning to lose it, finally, I went to talk to a social worker and the first person I saw told me try not to let it get to me. Let it go he needs this; this is something he can control. Be patient and help him out. After a year or so I went to a different social worker and I told her what was happening and as we talked I told her as she was opening a Pandora’s Box. I realized I had shoved down so much, that I was afraid what would come out. I was blind to what was happening to my family and me.

Joss was sent to Bellwood Hospital in Jun of 2001 for alcohol and depression treatment. I have to say that while he was gone the kids and I seemed to be more relaxed and were able to joke around. On the day before Easter weekend I got a phone call from the base telling me that Joss was going to be released from the military for medical reasons the following Thursday. He was half way through his treatment at Bellwood. If he got released it would mean that his treatment would end as we could no longer afford to continue his stay there (approx. $10K). I asked the base to give me 24 hours to tell him. In the mean time I called Bellwood hospital and talked to his Dr who informed that this situation could potentially push Joss over the edge. I was desperate, questioning what I could do. I had been given the name of a person that may help, I called Rick and he asked me to give him some time and he would look into it. I didn’t sleep a wink that night but finally on Good Friday around midnight Lieutenant Colonel Stephane Grenier phoned and told me that he is looking into the issue. He said he would call back before the end of the weekend. He called back Easter Monday and told me that Joss would be able to stay in the Military for another year and that the paperwork would follow in a few days. This was a true Easter miracle. As I got off the phone I cried for a long time. Tears of joy, tears of relief, tears of frustration and loneliness. I pulled myself together called Bellwood’s to let them know that things were OK and that the military would continue funding his rehab. I kept this secret from Joss for years before I let him know what had been going on at that time.

In Aug 2002, when Joss got released from the military, let me tell you it was a very sad day. He, we had given 29 years to the military and there was nothing to make it special for him make his departure something memorable. It felt like Joss, I and our family were contagious some type of evil they were finally ridding themselves of. We lost a lot of friends, and neither of our families were close. I am not saying we lost everybody, however, we felt alone. My husband had lost his identity. He was no longer an MP; no longer a soldier and he felt like he was not providing for us anymore. Who was he in his eyes?

As Joss settled into retired life he started to sleep a lot and would hide a lot in our computer room. There was no help available and he started to drink again. Since he was no longer in the military his Dr’s were not there anymore. Joss had put up a wall and there was no getting in. If we went to a restaurant, he felt he had to sit with his back against a wall so he could see the entrance. He would plan alternate routes to escape in case an intruder came in. We quit going to movies as he had anxiety and that when the lights went out his enemy would come in. He could not go into crowds as he did not feel safe, noises bothered him. He was shutting down and not letting the family in. Joss had become a stranger in our home.

After a while I finally gave Joss a choice to go for help or I was going to leave with the kids. Joss had also got in trouble with the police and that was my last straw. 
 Joss started to seek aid. He found a social worker who he still sees today. Through talking with her, he started to get a grasp on what exactly PTSD was doing, not only to his body but to his mind as well. He began to take note of his triggers. He started to realize that when he would feel anxious that it wasn’t a sign of weakness but a sign that the disease was rearing its ugly head. It took a while for his understanding of the disease to click and I think this understanding will be a constant. Today he continues to learn more about himself and PTSD, everyday isn’t prefect but every day is no longer a struggle.

So now that you know the background story I will now tell you about my struggle and my children’s struggle. This is going to be the hard part for me. 
I had always been a strong person who stood up for myself and what I thought was right. As I look back I realize how wrong I was. 
This is going to be the first time I tell my side.

I was watching the man that I love change and I did not know how to stop our lives from going downhill. I was feeling alone, oh so alone. I would go into the shower and cry into a face cloth as I did not want anyone to hear me. I was losing my best friend, my husband and the father of our children, my soul mate. I was spiraling down with Joss.

As Joss was drifting away I thought it was because of me, I thought it was all my fault. What was I doing wrong? Was I not good looking for him anymore? I began to live in fear and began to eat junk food and not care much about myself or my looks. So many of my friends quit coming over or for that matter even calling. They did not want to hear from me. So I stopped talking. I put on a smile and pretended everything was OK. I was working full time and volunteer and continued my involvement with girl guiding. If I had to be away I would make sure the kids were with me or went someplace else. It was easier to keep busy and to hide instead of facing what was going on. I lived in fear. We walked on egg shells around Joss all the time. I never knew when Joss would get upset and I was afraid he would take his life and it did not matter what happened, I blamed myself for everything, everything was my fault. I was angry, I was so angry at him, at the PTSD for that matter; I was pissed off at the world. Why did my life have to change? I did not ask for this, So Why? Why me?

I went to the MFRC (THE Military Family Rescue Center) to talk to Eve Lawrance. This was the start of my healing as I now know that I had to heal first to help my children. As I sat and talked to Eve and said PLEASE help me. She said she would if I did the leg work. I knew there were other family members out there like me. They were suffering as well, our stories may be different yet we were all in the same boat. So we started a peer group to meet twice a month. Sunday nights I would call my peers and check in. Some Sundays it took me a ½ hour, sometimes it took 3 hours depending how my peers were feeling. With time I was learning who I was. In late 2005 OSISS (Operational Stress Injury Social Support) came in to take a look at our group and in 2006 they made Peer Support groups for families across our great Country. I have worked with over 35 families as a peer. We were all alone, afraid, angry, lifeless and yet we got strength from one another. Some of us also thought of taking our lives. Some of us also thought of running until we could no longer run. Some of us broke and wound up in the hospital. We also started to suffer from physical illness from our stress. 
 So does PTSD belong to our love ones alone? NO it is our disease as well. I had learned that our love ones often had physical illness with their PTSD. I also learned that many of them have an addiction, whether it is alcohol, drugs, gambling, sex and the list goes on.

You see I learned a lot about myself. As I said I gave up on myself, I blamed myself for my family’s problems; I carried the world on my shoulders. 
You may ask why did I not leave. There are many reasons. I was afraid of how could I take the kids from their father and this may sound corny but what about my vows when I said to marry in sickness and in health? I still loved him with all my heart and now that he was ill I refused to just give up on him. I had lost my self confidence and who I was. I gained closed to 100 lbs and felt uncomfortable in my own skin. I was no longer me. How could I take care of my family?
Over the years I have learned I did nothing wrong. I had a right to feel the way I did. We have learned to work together and to help each other as we travel through this terrible illness. We remembered it takes 2 for a relationship. We also remembered it takes 100% from each of us to grow and only 50% to leave.

Linda and her husband Joss before Linda shared her speech. 

Now that I was starting to heal, I could help my children, I felt like a terrible mother as I realized what each one was going through. I had tried to make them think I was OK and their life was going to be fine but I did not do a good job of it. Our oldest was 11 when Joss left for Bosnia. Joss had told him he was the man of the house while he was gone and Marc took it to heart. He tried hard to fill his father’s boots. While Joss was gone and the kids and I got ready for Christmas they asked me if their Dad would be home and I told them “No”. I explained to them about the kids over there and that their Dad was helping them. My children then asked me if they could give some of their gifts to those children. So we went shopping and sent gifts to Joss for him to give out. Marc decided to write a play about his dad giving these gifts to the children over there. His teacher was so impressed that she had Marc and some of his class mates performed for the Christmas school concert. I was so proud of him for what he had done. Years later Marc told me that he saw me cry sometimes and that he knew that his dad was withdrawing. As Joss got sicker Marc continued to fill his father’s boots. If he saw the other two beginning to act up Marc would act up more to try to take his father’s anger away from them after all, he was the oldest. He thought he could handle it better than they could. He grew up too fast.  From the time he was 11 he carried the world on his shoulders. Christopher and Aime were 8 when Joss was in Bosnia, Christopher was my quiet one. He took it all in and kept it there. He always read people and situations a little differently than most. Christopher was stronger than anyone I knew. In 2007 at 20 years old, Chris joined the military and he has seen and helped his fellow brothers and sisters at arms as he understands the true meaning of PTSD. I am so proud that he can help others. Last but not least, our daughter Aime. At the end of my talk I will read a monologue she wrote when she was 14 years old. Tonight will be the first time she is allowing me to recite it publicly and acknowledge that she is the author. She is no longer afraid to pass the message. Aime acted out a lot and was not afraid to tell her father what she thought of him. She hated what he had become but loved him at the same time. The hate showed most and she made sure to let him know. The love Aime and her Dad have now is very heart warming. She makes me proud of how far she has come. Taking everything into consideration I was very lucky with my children, so many other women I know had it so much worse. Some of their kids had gotten in trouble with the law, some ended up going to jail; others started cutting themselves; others turned to drugs and or are suffering from depression. This thing called PTSD can and has destroyed families. This disease can take everything from you but you have to fight it. As I said earlier we lost most of our friends and some of our family did not understand why Joss had changed and they would tell us to get over it and carry on. This did not help to ease stress. If only it was that easy.

Linda, Joss, their children and their spouses

When Marc lived in Ottawa, he lived in a house with some friends going to college to become paramedics and police officers. These kids became like adopted kids to us. I saw some of them hurting and I knew they needed help and all they needed was for someone to listen to them and give them direction so they took care of themselves. I found help in the MFRC and our Peer Group. This Peer Group is now known as OSISS (Operational Stress Injury Social Support). I have learned to let people know that there is also help with the MFRC, OSISS , Alanon, Open Mind Open Line. But the first thing to understand is to NOT TO BE AFRAID TO ASK FOR HELP. 

You are not weak to reach out. If you have a loved one or a friend that is ill, stand by them. They may try to push you away but be their shoulder to lean on. They may act out, but remember it is the PTSD talking, not them. They are hurting and do not want to hurt you. I am not saying it is easy but it is possible. Ask the doctors and social workers to hear you. You know your loved one best and they are very good at deceiving their social workers but you know that firsthand. You can talk to the Dr and Social workers, however they just cannot tell you what is going on with their patient. Work as a team to help everyone heal. Life for our family will never be like it was before PTSD, but the love and pride I have for Joss and my family, it is different now but it is even stronger now. It has been a long walk through a dark tunnel, alone, scared and angry but I now know I am not alone.  Am I through the tunnel? NO, but I can see the light and I no longer walk alone as there are others with me and we are helping one another.

My pride for what my husband has accomplished for his, family and country will never fade. He is my hero and I think he is a true here. 

 Together we can and will make a difference. It is time to take PTSD out of the closet and not to be afraid. You are not weak because you have PTSD; you are not weak because you love someone who suffers from it. I still go for counselling for myself and I am proud of this as I am stronger for this.