Here is my letter to the VA. Before you read it, there are a few things I need to say. Nothing in this letter is meant to hurt you. It may not sound that way to you, but I've tried very hard to describe situations that show the problems caused by PTSD that interfere with your ability to enjoy your life. I am not saying any of this to dredge up old hurts or make a list of all your failings. If I didn't think you were a wonderful man, didn't love you and respect you with all my heart, I wouldn't be here. Your PTSD is a part of you and I accept that. Because I love you, I want you to be happy. If putting all this down in writing will help you get the benefits you deserve, take some of the pressure off and give you a chance at happiness then this is what I need to do. Some of the things I say are worded to make a point for the VA. It's not that I'm exaggerating, but I am wording things so that the VA will understand the magnitude of the effect rather than to help you understand how things appear to me.
I know that reading this will not be easy and I briefly considered asking you not to read it. I hope that you can read it with an understanding that I am not angry with you because of these things. I am sad that you had to go through what you went through. I'm angry with the government for allowing this to happen and not giving you any help. I'm in mourning for the years of pain and the effect that's had on our relationship. I wrote this letter to help make a difference. Maybe at some point after reading it you'll be able to have a better understanding of where I'm coming from. When I'm upset by the effects of your PTSD I'm mourning what we've lost just as you're mourning what you lost in Vietnam. I wish I was perfect and could always deal with things in a way that allowed you to see this instead of seeing anger or resentment. I really try to recognize the effects of PTSD and what's going on from your side. It's hard to do this when we're so cut off from each other, and I need your help to really understand.
I don't have any unrealistic expectations that the world will become rosy and bright if you get benefits, go on meds, stop drinking, etc. I just would like it to be us against the world, not you against the world and certainly not you and me against each other.
Please don't jump to any conclusions about my feelings or motives in this letter. Ask me. I promise to be completely honest with you. I love you.
Peggy
To Whom It May Concern:
I am writing this letter in support of my husband, Don Doe', disability claim. While I did not know Don prior to his service in Vietnam, I am very much aware of the symptoms of PTSD he has struggled with during the 18 years we've lived together. When I first met him, Don had obvious PTSD, and even had a few flashbacks, but he was still able to enjoy life, go out in public, and have some degree of positive self-image. In the last five to ten years Don's PTSD has become severe. At times I've thought that he'd be better off if I left so he wouldn't have the stress of trying to be around another human being. Last year another veteran sent Don a list of symptoms of PTSD. When I came home he was holding the list and crying. When I asked what was wrong he said, "This is a list of twelve symptoms of PTSD and I have thirteen of them". It breaks my heart that he's in such pain, but there doesn't seem to be anything I or anyone else can do to undo the damage from Vietnam.
Because of the many issues Don has, I have organized this letter by topic. I'm not going to try to explain why he sees things the way he does. I don't know. After 18 years of trying to figure it out I've finally realized that his reality is so different than what most people live in that it's nearly impossible to be right about what he thinks or feels based on what he says and does unless you were there.
Sleep:
One of Don's most obvious symptoms is a severe inability to sleep normally. For the entire time I've known him, he's usually wakes up between 2:00 and 3:00 a.m. every night, and can't go back to sleep after that time. It doesn't seem to matter what time he goes to bed, he still wakes up at this time. In order to continue working despite being forced to live such a bizarre schedule, he often accepted overtime hours on the condition that they be added to the beginning rather than the end of his shift. This worked only because he has usually worked in manufacturing plants that ran 24 hours a day. Now that Don is unable to work, he frequently sleeps during the day, especially when I'm home. I don't know if this is because he's trying to avoid me or because he's more comfortable with someone else here to be on watch.
Don can sleep through earthquakes and thunderstorms because he had to be able to sleep during shelling when he wasn't on duty or he would never have slept. However, he will wake up and jump out of bed because of small noises he associates with someone sneaking up on him. When he's asleep during the day it's impossible for me to use the phone because no matter how quiet I am, it wakes him up. He says he thinks I'm either plotting against him or talking about him.
When Don does sleep, he frequently talks and kicks in his sleep. On some nights he will talk and yell for hours. Sometimes he lashes out and hits me. Don usually doesn't remember his dreams, but he sometimes has nightmares about Vietnam that he remembers, dreams that he's an animal caught in a trap, or has other disturbing dreams. Once when he played a combat video game, he said he "spent the night in Vietnam". Recently he dreamed he was talking to a couple of other veterans and told them he couldn't believe how peaceful he felt. They looked at each other and then told him, "Didn't you know? We're dead."
Don has a very difficult time relaxing and being comfortable going to sleep. In order to relax, he "goes on patrol" in his mind. This can range from mentally patrolling our property to imagining patrols in Vietnam, to fantasizing about ambushing and killing people he sees as a threat to us or our home. This type of fantasy helps him feel in control and safe so he can relax enough to go to sleep.
Work:
Don was lucky to find a field he could work in for many years without having to maintain stable employment, since he has a lot of difficulty staying at a job for very long. He's had dozens of jobs. He designed tooling for manufacturing and when the tooling was done he was laid off. If this didn't happen soon enough, he quit and lived on the money he'd saved until it ran out.. Don has also been able to maintain very loose ties to any job by working through a contracting agency (temporary agency for engineering) rather than being employed directly by the company. Workers in this category are often looked at as mercenaries who don't have to conform to the normal standards of permanent employees. This allowed Don to quit without giving notice and change jobs frequently without being stigmatized as a "bad employee". His exceptional skill also enabled him to build a reputation and be "left alone to get the job done". He frequently refused to attend meetings, deal with office politics or conform to the normal rules of workplace etiquette required of other staff members. He would call in at the last minute to say he was taking a week or two off when he couldn't handle the pressure. Because he was valuable and would not be there after the project ended, this was often overlooked by his supervisors. In more recent years, as more women entered manufacturing and "political correctness" became such an issue, Don's behavior became more difficult to ignore. Don says exactly what he thinks and has no patience for phrasing things in ways that are socially acceptable. He was recently told by a former co-worker that he had a reputation for being extremely good, but that no one would hire him again because he was too difficult to work with.
A few years after we moved here Don was laid off and unable to find work for a year and a half. During this time he became extremely depressed and withdrawn, especially when I tried to help by paying all the bills. This was completely demoralizing to him and probably did permanent damage to his self-esteem. If he hadn't finally gone back to work I don't know if our marriage could have survived his anger and depression.
When Don was laid off the last time, three and a half years ago, he had already tried to quit twice, but was convinced to stay long enough to get laid off and finish the project they needed him for. He had saved enough money so he could take some time off and build a new garage. When this project was over, he heard about a couple of jobs nearby and decided to apply. Both were as direct company employees, however, these were small companies and he thought he might be able to deal with being a regular employee under those circumstances. Don had excellent recommendations for both jobs and was asked to come in for interviews. However, he became very anxious prior to the interviews. He left an hour earlier than necessary to be sure he wouldn't be late. At the interviews he was unable to "play the game" required of this type of interaction. He told me afterwards that he could see in the eyes of the interviewers that he was saying all the wrong things when he tried to answer their questions honestly. I have no doubt that it was clear at both companies that Don was highly skilled and able to do the job. However, because of his PTSD he came across as a person who would be more trouble than he was worth when it came to interacting with co-workers and supervisors. He can't compete against other applicants who know how to play the political games and behave like everyone else.
Dealing with the world:
Don lives his life in survival mode. The smallest thing that is outside of his control is a threat. He seems closest to being at peace in situations like camping where life is very simple, there is no outside stress or expectations and he isn't responsible for anything he doesn't want to be responsible for. This is the only time he seems free from Vietnam but it happens so rarely it doesn't give him any relief. Normally, it seems like he feels so responsible for everything that he's a nervous wreck. He isn't able to deal with the normal everyday inconveniences and problems that come with life. If something is outside of his control and doesn't go the way he'd like, he shuts down and is uncommunicative. I often don't even know what it was that sets him off. It may just be that he remembered something about Vietnam, or it could be that something stressful happened. I really can't say though, because he won't talk to me about what he's feeling.
Don has to be in control of things. Everything becomes a matter of life or death for him. He sometimes reacts to the smallest mistake as if I had been completely negligent and endangered lives. I live in a state of constantly trying to figure out what the current rules are so I can avoid breaking them, but they change from one minute to the next. I think this happens according to what the current threat is for him. He expects me to handle situations like repairmen, contractors, etc. exactly as he would. However, once he gives me responsibility for this he jumps in immediately because he doesn't think I'm saying or doing the right things. The only thing I can figure is that he feels out of control and doesn't understand why I can't do things exactly as he would. Then he gets frustrated when I tell him he needs to decide between doing it himself and letting me do it. He does the same thing if I'm assembling something or trying to fix something. I'm supposed to have all the mechanical knowledge he does and do it exactly as he would. If I don't accept his advice about how to do something, I'm devaluing him. If I can't prove I'm able to do it within the first 30 seconds he takes it away from me and does it himself. It might take him 30 minutes to figure it out, but he can't see that he never gave me the chance to try to get that far because he immediately assumed I couldn't do it. Actually, I don't think Don's definition of advice is the same as mine. To me, when you give advice, the person has the option of accepting or rejecting the advice. If you don't accept Don's advice, he acts like you have spit in his face. His attitude appears to be "fuck you if you won't listen to me". There is no room to disagree or have a different way to do something. Don just isn't able to trust anyone. I think he feels that its so important that everything be done perfectly that he can't cope with giving up the responsibility to another person who might not be as careful as he is. In his world, not being perfect costs people their lives.
Don is unable to accept help from other people. He doesn't want to be dependent on anyone or have anyone be dependent on him. The only people he trusts are other combat veterans, because they're the only ones who understand the way he views the world. Unfortunately, he has met very few other combat veterans. When he does meet someone he's very suspicious and tests them to be sure they aren't "wannabes". Even if they pass these tests he's likely to have difficulty maintaining a friendship with them because they both have PTSD and misunderstandings or disagreements can blow up into huge arguments. When people disappoint Don he immediately cuts off his feelings for them. I think it's too painful for him to risk further disappointment.
I think that buying a home was in some ways a big mistake for us. Don seems to be haunted by the idea of owing over $100,000 to the bank even though we have no other debts. He has been extremely depressed about not having a job and hypersensitive to any mention of this. He reacts to any mention of the fact that he's at home or not working as if I'd publicly humiliated him in the worst possible way. He recently hung up on someone who was trying to make conversation by asking about his work. When I tried to suggest that he find something he really enjoyed and do that, he thought I was implying he wasn't capable of doing anything important. When it became obvious that he would not be able to go back to work and was going to be running out of money I pressed him for a plan, but he didn't have one. He knew he couldn't work but he didn't want to be labeled "disabled". He swore he would never allow me to support him, but I had to tell him I already was, because he hadn't remembered to contribute any money to our joint account for a while. He finally applied for VA disability so he wouldn't have to be supported by his wife. I think if he wasn't worried about me, he would have just waited until he was out of money, the house was foreclosed and he became homeless.
Going out in public:
Don has always been very reluctant to go anywhere where there are crowds or large numbers of people. He has panic attacks in these situations, especially in indoor areas like shopping malls. Don is unable to go to stores unless he knows exactly what he needs and can go in, get it and leave. Most Christmases, birthdays, anniversaries are either forgotten or preceded by weeks of severe anxiety about shopping, and end with apologies about why he didn't get me anything. The only holiday he consistently remembers is the Marine Corps Birthday.
A couple of years ago Don had to wait while having new tires put on his truck and decided to go inside a store to kill time. He told me he felt like he was in a foreign country. When a salesman came up behind him to offer assistance, Don was so startled he knocked over a display of shoes.
Don is also unable to enjoy eating out in restaurants. I used to try to insist that we go out for our anniversary, but the last couple of times we tried that it was a disaster. He was so stressed out at the thought of being in this type of situation that I told him we should just forget it. He got angry and insisted that we'd go because he had said he would and wouldn't go back on his word. He couldn't talk and made sure we left as soon as possible. The few times we've gone to a little café near our house, he has to sit in a corner where his back can be to a wall and he can see what's going on and possible escape routes. Flying is nearly impossible not only because of the other passengers, but because he can't deal with the fact that someone else is in charge of his life for that period of time. We flew to San Diego last summer to visit my father and MCRD. As we were walking out of the airport a man asked Don if the Vietnamese flag patch on his field jacket meant he'd served in Vietnam. When Don said yes the man thanked him. Don nearly ran out of the airport and was unable to talk for several minutes. Even then he couldn't tell me what happened until a couple of hours later.
The only movie we've ever seen in a theatre was "Platoon". Obviously, this was not a social outing, but an attempt to deal with Don's demons. He nearly ran over other people going into the theatre because he was so stressed. When people laughed at an inappropriate point or talked during the movie he could barely control his anger. He was a wreck for days afterwards.
Don and I never go anywhere socially. People used to invite us over for dinner, but even if Don agreed to go he'd back out at the last minute. He once backed out of dinner at our next door neighbor's house at the last minute, even though he liked and was comfortable with them. He once agreed to go to someone's house for Thanksgiving dinner. He got so stressed that he couldn't sleep the night before and I went alone. I finally just started telling people that I'd be happy to come but that it was highly unlikely Don would. No one asks anymore. The closest we come to social outings would be going to the hardware store very early in the morning. This way he doesn't have to see the people who don't know what they're looking for because the only people there are contractors. We only go a few times a year at the very most. Once another veteran and his wife came to visit and we went out and had lunch and went to an antique mall. It was the only time I can remember feeling like normal people in years. They were just like us, so I guess there was safety in numbers.
Up until he started seeing a therapist again, Don could go weeks without going as far as our mailbox. Now he leaves the house once a week and walks through the neighborhood and alleys for an hour or more before his appointment. He's more comfortable in the alleys than on the streets. He "fired" his first therapist, a woman who despite 14 years of counseling veterans, could not establish any relationship with him. He's supposed to start going to the Vet Center tomorrow to see a male veteran therapist. I'm very hopeful that this will be a situation where Don can get help.
Depression and Obsession:
When I met Don he was able to enjoy life and liked to go out and do things. When we moved to Washington and bought a house 12 years ago, he stopped going out. He has become completely withdrawn from the world in the last 3 and a half years since he was laid off from his last job. He seldom leaves the house. He has very little contact with anyone. He has become obsessed with Vietnam and watches any war movie or documentary about Vietnam or other wars. All the books say the first troops went to Vietnam in 1965, but his first tour was in 1964. At times he questioned if he'd really been to Vietnam because he couldn't find anything on the Internet to back up his experiences. He really began to believe he wasn't there, even though he has photo albums full of pictures of himself and his buddies. He decided to try to find some of the men he'd served with and searched the Internet for hours. The only ones he could find were just names on The Wall. Most of them died on subsequent tours when Don wasn't with them, so he feels guilty that he wasn't there for them. He finally found a web site for one of his old units and was able to find a few people who remembered the operations they were on. He started emailing a group of other vets from this unit, but there was a big fight over who should be allowed to be part of the group. Don was irate that they would try to keep any combat veteran out and stopped his internet service so he couldn't get any more messages from them.
Asian people and things:
Don has a real hatred of most anything related to Asia. The smell of Asian food makes him physically ill. The only kind of rice he will allow is Minute Rice, and it has to be cooked with butter so it can't stick together or he can't eat it. I have a few Asian things my father (a retired Naval officer) brought back from Japan, but they make Don too uncomfortable to display in the house. Don is very distrustful of Asian people, continues to refer to them as "gooks" and feels that the Vietnamese are quite literally sub-human. He would just as soon kill them as to look at them. The sound of Asian languages drives him over the edge. While working at Boeing, a Vietnamese man was added to his work group. Don refused to work with him and threatened to quit if the man wasn't reassigned. They told him that Tran was one of the "good guys" because he stole a plane and landed on a US aircraft carrier. Don told them all that proved was that gooks would steal anything.
Recently our doorbell started ringing at 3:30 a.m. Don was already up and came in the bedroom to get his gun before going to the door. An Asian man dressed in a black jacket and pants was standing at the door with our storm door open, asking to be let in. Don yelled at him to go away, but the man persisted. I prayed that Don would not open the door or shoot the man and told Don I was calling the police. The man wandered down the street just as the police arrived. When I told Don how glad I was he hadn't shot the man, he explained that he would have had to open the door to do that because he'd put light load (low velocity) bullets in the gun and wasn't sure they'd kill him through the door. He was too afraid to open the door, and that saved the man's life.
Other Triggers:
Besides Asian things, Don is reminded of Vietnam by the sound of helicopters, fireworks, and dark places. When we bought our home one of the most important features was large windows and lots of light. He needs to have lots of light to feel comfortable. One thing about our house that's a problem is that some of the furnace components are located in the crawl space. The main path to the furnace area is dug out for better headroom and lined with a heavy plastic vapor barrier. It reminds him of the bunker he was buried in and he gets claustrophobic. The vapor barrier reminds him of body bags and how he was sure he would die there before anyone found him.
When Don and I got together I thought we might have children. I soon realized that this would be impossible. I think Don is terrified by the prospect of being responsible for another human being. He told me that once he sat in a car with his sister's kids while she went into a store. When one of the kids fell and cut their head, he freaked out and had to get away as soon as his sister came back. He was a Sergeant in Vietnam and being in charge of children seems to bring back the guilt and responsibility associated with his men who were injured or killed.
Don can be quite sensitive to perceived threats. Several years ago, the city undertook a road widening project that required purchase of a portion of our property. Don is extremely suspicious and distrustful of authority and became confrontational with the right of way agent when he thought she was purposely lying to us. The settlement we were offered was unfairly low and we decided to fight it. For years this hung over our heads while the project was delayed. Don's stress level over the fight with the city became so severe that I started sleep-walking and having nightmares about tanks attacking our home. Our doctor told me he thought my problems were directly related to Don's experiences in Vietnam, and the stress we were both under in this situation. When the city finally started the road widening project, Don had to work frequently with the City Engineer, a Chinese man. Don would become very anxious and angry before any meetings with him, to the point where his hands shook and he had trouble expressing himself. He was convinced this man was trying to trick us. We won our fight with the City two years ago, and the only thing left to do is to agree on the final placement of the property line. Don's calculations differ from the city's, so this needs to be negotiated. This would mean again dealing with the Chinese engineer, and Don just isn't able to deal with it right now.
Don's therapist tried to get him to go on anti-depressants. He seems to feel this is the equivalent of mind control and says he won't take any of that "Thorazine". I think he's afraid that if he starts taking the medication he'll lose control and won't have the power to decide to stop taking it.
Anger:
When Don is angry he has to win at any cost and says cruel things that I really don't think he means. He often reverts to his "don't mean nothin'" mode from Vietnam. Actually, when he says this I've finally learned that it really means that it's too painful to deal with. He never says it when it's really something he doesn't care about or is insignificant. Recently when one of my good friends died he told me "it don't mean nothin".
I feel extremely lucky that Don has never been violent. I have no doubt if he ever crossed that line and started, he would kill someone. When he's angry at me he looks like he's using all his strength to keep from putting his hands around my neck and choking me. Once when we were at an outdoor shooting area and standing away from the table with the guns, two armed men walked up and asked if we would leave so they could take our spot. Don looked at them and they immediately apologized, called him "Sir" and backed away down the path. The look in his eyes frightened them despite the fact that they were armed and he was not. Don frequently writes nasty letters to deal with his anger toward our lawyer, his therapist or others. He usually doesn't send them, so I think this is a good outlet for his anger. He also shoots large birds in our yard that try to take over the bird feeders we have for the finches. He knows I don't like this, so he usually doesn't do it when I'm at home, but this is difficult for him because it makes him feel better to kill something.
Guilt:
Don used to enjoy doing things like camping and hiking, but he hasn't done these things in more than ten years. He seems to avoid anything that would be enjoyable. It appears to me that he feels so guilty that he survived and so many others didn't, that he continues to punish himself. The fact that his little brother died in a car accident while Don was in Vietnam only makes it worse. I think he doesn't think he deserves to enjoy the life he has because they never had that chance. He's been in a period of mourning for over thirty years. He talks about the fact that other guys were wounded a lot worse than he was or were in worse situations. He thinks he doesn't have the right to be affected by all the horrendous things he saw and experienced.
The future:
Don lives in the past and present only. He says he died in Vietnam and never expected to have any future. He thinks of himself as the walking dead. He really never came home. When I try to talk to him about planning for our future or retirement, he says flatly that he won't live that long. He starts projects but doesn't finish them. I think it's because he doesn't see the point .
High risk behavior:
Don smokes, drinks too much, doesn't eat and refuses to see a doctor unless something is seriously wrong. When he was younger, he rode motorcycles 100 mph on the freeway (once with me on the back scared to death), went rock climbing alone without ropes and generally did his best to put his life in danger. Some of this was for the adrenaline rush like he felt in combat, but it was also because he doesn't care if he lives or dies. He's told me he thinks he's just doesn't have enough guts to commit suicide so he's doing it slowly. He's not physically able to climb or ride anymore, so he just tries to destroy himself slowly, one cigarette or beer at a time. I think he feels he deserves to suffer as long as possible and that a quick suicide would be too good for him.
Alcohol:
Don used to use drugs but quit when we moved to Washington. Now he just drinks beer. He starts drinking first thing in the morning and stops when he's had a dozen beers. He occasionally drinks more or less, but it's pretty much 12 a day. He doesn't get drunk except on rare occasions, but he maintains a "buzz" all day long. Our doctor calls it "self-medicating". The only time he doesn't drink is when we're on vacation, which only happens about once every five years. I think the reduced stress and need to drive overrule his need for alcohol. Luckily, he doesn't drink and drive, but that just means he never leaves the house and becomes more and more isolated. If there's any emergency, he's not in a position to drive because he's been drinking. If anything happens when I'm home that requires driving, I know I'm the one who's responsible. Once when I was at work and he thought the dog was dying he drove her to the vet despite the risk and I was afraid they'd both be killed.
Death:
Death is very difficult for Don to deal with. When my mother died it brought everything back for him. I had to try to explain to my family why he was the only one in the family who didn't come to the funeral. If he had, I would have been torn between helping deal with his grief over Vietnam and grieving for my mother with my family.
Relationships:
In the entire time I have known him, although he has socialized with people from work on a handful of occasions, Don has had only one friend. This was a man from Utah he met while spending a summer gold prospecting in Alaska. Despite a friendship that lasted over 15 years, Don saw this man only half a dozen times. Their relationship was primarily by letter and occasional phone calls. When they did get together, they usually left angry because they couldn't get along in person. This friendship ended suddenly a couple of years ago when Don's friend came to visit and expressed great concern about Don's mental health due to the paranoia and hermit-like behavior he saw. Don sees the world in black and white. There are no shades of gray. Because this man discussed his concerns with me and briefly considered showing me some of Don's letters to help me understand what was going on in his head (since he won't share this with me), Don felt betrayed and refused to have any further contact with him.
Don has had almost no contact with his family during the time I've known him. I met my in-laws once when I finally convinced Don to visit them after we'd been married 7 years. Don stayed in contact with his brother for a while after that visit, but cut him off when his brother moved from Colorado to Texas without coming to visit us in Washington. Don has met my family on a handful of occasions, mostly when they've come to visit us. Last summer we attended a reunion of one of Don's units from Vietnam in Portland, and Don agreed to continue on down to California to visit my 84 year old father. This was only the second time Don had been to my parent's home in the eighteen years we've been together. The last time he had seen my father was when my parents visited us ten years ago.
Don was married the first time in the mid 1970's. The marriage lasted eleven months. Then Don simply didn't come home one night. He said it took months for his wife to track him down to serve him with divorce papers. He can't even remember her last name.
When we got married, Don quit his job. When we returned from our honeymoon gold prospecting in Northern California, he took a week to fix his equipment and then went back without me for eight weeks in the woods by himself. At the time I thought it had just seemed like a good opportunity to take some time to do what he wanted before he went back to work. Now I think the stress of getting married made him run away both from his job and from me. Since he was out in the woods, we arranged times he would call me from a pay phone. I made plans to stay at a friend's house one night so we could leave early for the county fair the next day. I explained this to Don and reminded him that he wouldn't be able to reach me that day. When I talked to him at the next arranged time he was certain I had stayed out all night cheating on him. He had tried to call a number of times and this was the only explanation he could come up with for why I hadn't been home. He had completely forgotten what I told him, even after he wasn't able to reach me.
When we moved to Washington I got a good job and was quickly promoted to a management position. My boss (male) and I got along great and became good friends. We frequently traveled on business together, usually with at other people. I received two raises in a short time as my responsibilities grew. Don became convinced that I must be having an affair with my boss, which was completely untrue. I guess he thought that was the only explanation for why I was getting raises. I tried to explain to him that there was nothing going on, I simply had a good friendship and working relationship with my boss. Finally Don told me that he'd decided that while I wasn't sleeping with my boss, I wanted to. I tried to explain to him that the problem was that my boss appreciated me, valued my opinion and treated me with respect. What I wanted wasn't an affair with my boss. What I wanted was for Don to think I was as worthy of respect and consideration as my boss did, and to be as good to me as my boss was to his wife. Most of the time we've been together he's made "jokes" about me having a boyfriend. Even after I begged him to stop this he continued. I've never done anything to deserve this. My friends can see that I'm madly in love with Don, but all he sees is that I must be cheating on him.
In the last five to ten years Don has become increasingly withdrawn from me. He writes a lot and used to let me read it, but now he doesn't. He's always accusing me of looking at what he's writing on the computer, even though I'm not. In fact, I take great pains to avoid looking at his monitor so he won't keep bringing this up. Don and I haven't had sex for more than a year. He told me he just couldn't deal with that right now, but he hoped that at some point he'd be able to. He still tells me he loves me (mostly when I say it first) and I believe he does. I just think that being close to anyone is too risky for him.
Don avoids learning people's names and getting to know anyone on a meaningful level. He says that in Vietnam if you knew their names it hurt more when they died. I have only a few friends that he's seen and talked to many times, but he doesn't know which is which when I talk about them by name.
Don can be a wonderful and caring person, or a cold vindictive one. There are times when I don't know which one I'm coming home to. He can be fine in the morning and when I get home he acts like we've had a big fight that I don't know about. I used to get home and sit in the driveway dreading coming inside. I was shocked when the wife of another veteran with PTSD said she did the same thing.
I feel lucky that Don told me about his experiences in Vietnam early on, so I can have some understanding of what's going on when he shuts down or appears to me to be angry and cruel. I try very hard to think about how his experiences have affected him and how these defense mechanisms must have worked for him in those extreme conditions. But it's hard not to feel like his anger is directed at me. It makes it hard for me to trust him. I end up trying to say and do as little as possible that might set him off, but it always backfires and we just spiral into isolation from each other. After 18 years with him, I'm finally starting to be able to see that what looks to me like he's being angry and cruel, is really his way of trying to protect me from what he's feeling. His responses are so different from other people's that it's really difficult to understand that what's driving his behavior isn't anything close to how most people would interpret how he acts. If I wasn't completely in love with Don and dedicated to the idea that some day things will be better, I would have given up a long time ago.
Don's experiences in Vietnam – the fear, horror of seeing your friends blown to pieces, the guilt over sending someone out on patrol and having them step on a mine, the anger, unfairness, betrayal by the government and complete lack of any attempt to reintegrate survivors into society again – have left him completely unable to deal with the world the way most people do. The realization of this and the added stress of not being able to provide for himself, being supported by his wife, and devalued by the same society he was trying to serve have driven him to the edge. I'm afraid that given how depressed he is, if he can't get help soon he may decide that his current slow suicide isn't fast enough. I know that nothing will ever "fix" him or take Vietnam away. I can only hope that he can find some way to enjoy the life he has and let me back into it.
Sincerely,
Wife of Don