The Power of Perspective

This is my friend Steve.  He’s one of my favorite people in the office:

steve

Steve is one of our test engineers here at John Deere, and an integral member of our team.  He is hardworking, honest, and always has a positive attitude.

I first met Steve about a year ago when I moved cross-country and started working in North Carolina.  We shared a corner of a large cubical farm and both of us being early risers meant that we generally had some time to chat each day before most people showed up to work. I looked forward to those morning conversations, learning about him and his interests, but most of all, I loved his perspective on life.

I remember the first time he told me about Muscular Dystrophy, it was in passing, and it seemed to me he was determined to not let a disease define who he was.  As the months went by, I noticed a wheelchair brought into our cubical and asked him about it.  It was there in case of an emergency evacuation; he can’t move as fast as others.  Then he said something that I doubt he even remembers, “I’m blessed that I still can…” and then went on to list a bunch of things that he still could do.

BLESSED?!

Here is a guy that has every reason to be angry at God and his response is faithfulness and thankfulness that he “still can”!  I thought it was amazing and inspiring, and it was an affirmation for me to continue to focus on my own blessings and stop zeroing in on every problem I have.  I needed to really consider my own perspective.

My Inspiration

Steve is no longer my cube mate, he had to move closer to the entry door to the factory, and just a few weeks ago I noticed he had a powered chair.  We spoke a bit and he opened up about some of the difficulty he was facing: how tired he was, how he couldn’t play with his beautiful daughter, and how this chair was changing all of that for him.  I found out that although the health insurance paid for the chair, they wouldn’t pay for the new, specially modified vehicle he had to buy to transport it.  When I expressed shock at that, he merely responded,  “It’s cool, I had this planned for a while.”

It’s cool?!

Here is a guy having to buy a car worth almost as much as a house due to his medical condition, getting no financial support to do so, and he can only talk about how it’s great that he was prepared and had enough income to take it on.

He told me another joke, we laughed for a bit, and I drove home.  On my drive I began to think of how I would deal with what Steve is going through right now, and realized that I have a lot to learn from him.  I also realized that I am wasting the blessing of good health.  If i was unable to run, I’d probably complain about it, even though I rarely do it now. So I got back into the gym the next day.

Perspective

I was on the elliptical one morning not long after my decision to work out more when it hit me that a healthy body wasn’t the only blessing that so many people take for granted.  We’re so preoccupied on having more, that we rarely stop to appreciate what we currently have.  Our homes, our familes, our cars, a full belly.  I’m not cold, wet, hungry, or tired.  I’m not getting shot at, and i’m sleeping in a comfy bed with air conditioning.  I have a comfortable pair of shoes and new clothes.  I shower every day and have furniture in my house.  I own several televisions, I have internet, a phone.  The list goes on.

I have seen and lived among people that pray every day to be exactly where I am right now; am I thankful enough?  Are you?

My friend is going through a tough time.  This is the card he has been dealt, but instead of wallowing, he is inspiring.  Instead of faltering, he is ever more faithful.  Instead of depression, he spreads an infectious smile.  I need to be more like Steve, and in the age of the victim, I think we ALL need to be more like Steve.

What’s your perspective?

-LJF

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I don’t need Memorial Day

Memorial day, the day politicians find time in their schedule for a photo op in Arlington, civilians raise American flags and BBQ, and veterans cringe when thanked for their service; I can do without it.

I know it’s a very controversial thing to say, but I’m done with all of the pandering to the military.  I’m sick of politicians pretending to give a shit during election years then having my brothers die waiting for care in the VA.  I’m sick of being thanked for my service, then watching my brothers unable to get a job because civilians think we’re unstable.  On memorial day weekend in particular, I shun the thought of someone who doesn’t care on 364 days a year, asking me if I lost anyone with a pitiful look on their face.

If Memorial Day is for veterans, I don’t need it.  I remember every day.  Every single day, something, sometimes as simple as my kids giving me a hug, will remind me of other beautiful children who won’t get to hug their daddy today; so I hold mine a second longer.

I’ve reached my fill of seeing veterans used as a tool for personal gain and profit, and seeing what has happened with the Wounded Warrior Project, it appears not even within the community are we immune to it.

Think I’m just disgruntled and full of crap?  Watch as Facebook sends out some new filter for people to change their profile pics to. Then go to any company or politician’s website Monday.  I guarantee it’ll be filled with American flags and something like “xxx salutes our veterans” on the top.  Now ask that person or company what a Gold Star Family is, or what Section 60 is, or better yet, ask them to tell you about someone in Section 60, then talk to me about how much they actually care.

The sacrifice my brothers made and their family continues to make is not an opportunity for you to get elected or have a sale.  Arlington is not a place for a “photo op”.

Some of You do Care

As Chad told me when I was preparing this post, “A nation that recognizes it’s fallen soldiers one day a year is better than a nation that doesn’t recognize them at all.”

I know some of you are genuine.  Many of you don’t know how to show your support beyond a “thank you for your service” or the latest Facebook profile filter; you’re doing your best.  So here are some tips: Go find a veteran run charity that does some good, or help a gold star family.  Don’t let politicians get away with pandering their “veteran support” to win your vote.  Finally, don’t buy into the stereotype that all veterans have PTSD and are broken, we’re not.  Oh, and anytime you see someone in hollywood turn up the collar on their uniform like this, just stop watching that show:

So if you’re going to thank a soldier, or change your profile, mean it.

Regardless of where you stand on Reagan, when I heard his voice crack, I knew he meant it too:


-LJF

Getting out of the military is hard!  Don’t make it harder on yourself by not being prepared!  Buy CONUS Battle Drills:  A Guide for Combat Veterans to Corporate Life, Parenthood, and Caging the Beast Inside!

The Dark Night of the Soul- Part 2

In this second part of our topic on suicide (click here for part 1), I would like to discuss the more intimate factors associated with suicide. Perhaps we could reframe it by asking, “Why people kill themselves”?

The answer, as I mentioned in the first posting, is complex. There is no one single answer that would explain that tragic behavior. However, in my many years working with very distressed and hurting people as well as reading and thinking on this subject, I have come to see four factors, which seem to be present in one way or another in the mind of those who are contemplating suicide.

The Four Factors

 

  • Hopelessness. Many years ago, a very prominent American Psychiatrist, Dr Aaron Beck, who is also known as the ‘father” of Cognitive Therapy, noticed that an item in his depression questionnaire highly correlated with likelihood for self-harm, including completed suicides. This item dealt with a sense of hopelessness. Later, he developed a whole questionnaire known as the Beck’s Hopelessness Scales to evaluate this very important construct. The person who is at high risk for suicide is the person who has lost the sense of the future, who develops strong pessimistic attitudes, has very low motivation to do anything, and has limited expectations regarding life and others. In working with very depressed people over the years, I have seen repeatedly that it is not the degree of adversity in the person’s life, but the loss of hope that is critical. It reminds me of the quote from Nietzsche “give a person a why and he can deal with any how”. No matter how much pain and suffering a person experiences, if hope exists, if there is a point to everything (a “why”) then he can deal with the greatest of difficulties. On the other hand, once hope is lost, life tends to go the same way. The beautiful, courageous and tragic story of Ann Frank reminds us of this principle. This young Jewish adolescent hid with her family is an attic of a house in Amsterdam during WWII. Her diary shows despite her precarious situation, she was hopeful and joyful. She kept hoping for the day of liberation, and her future life. Sadly, they were betrayed and the Nazis sent them to concentration camps, and there she fought on, resisted this evil with all her might, until her older sister died. Ann, who had so gallantly and courageously battled fear, horror, hunger, and disease, felt there was no more hope and let go of life; she stopped fighting and surrendered herself to despair. Just four weeks later, the allied forces liberated her concentration camp.
Otto Frank visits the attic
  • Pain. Edwin Shneidman, in his seminal work on suicide, created the term “psychache” to describe the depths of psychological pain, hurt, and anguish a person experiences when contemplating suicide. While in sadness and depression, we always feel a level of pain, this is a more intense, despairing and alienating type of pain. As a Psychologist dealing with people in this state, I always felt this huge emotional divide when trying to reach out, to succor, and to bring hope. This is not only a hurtful pain, but also an alienating type of pain, which cuts people off from others. A person who suffers this type of pain, feels no one understands or can understand. This person feels alone, desperate and hopeless.
  • Anger. Sigmund Freud in his pioneering work in Psychoanalysis theorized that one prominent reason why people developed depression was through an unconscious mechanism in which anger, initially felt against other people, is introjected (turned inward) against the self. This is possible because we carry within ourselves our histories and the image of important people in our lives, even those who have hurt us. Therefore, the anger we feel towards them we direct it to their internal representations in our minds. At some point, this anger, or better-said “rage” is let loose and becomes murderous rage against the self. When I was in training I had a supervisor who used to say that suicide was the ultimate “fuck you”, referring to this concept in which the act of killing oneself is a defiance, a message, towards others whom have hurt us and whom we hate. Independently of the veracity of this theory, the person who is suicidal is typically very angry as well, although as frequently, this anger is not acknowledged.
  • Guilt. The final horseman of this apocalyptic self-destruction is guilt. This emotion, as all emotions, carries within itself, a set of consequences. A person who is guilty feels the need to be punished. It is only through punishment that guilt can be released, paid for, and the emotional debt, be once for all, finally settled. When guilt is unbearable and the hope for forgiveness is not available, suicide becomes the ultimate and proper method of paying that debt. A common misconception in PTSD is that people develop symptoms due to witnessing or living through horrific images of horror or destruction. While it is true that witnessing experiences of this nature will affect us in emotional ways, most people will, with time, feel better and return to normal functioning. In most severe cases of PTSD, the dynamics are very often consistent with feelings of guilt regarding what the soldier did or failed to do, which resulted in pain, suffering or loss of life. Now this guilt does not have to be “logical, real” so to speak, it only needs to exist in the person’s psyche as a constant reality and accuser of his actions. Sometimes this guilt takes unusual form such as the well-known “survivor guilt” in which the soldier feels guilty not because his actions (or lack of) but just because he survived and the common expression of this existential dilemma is “why me, why was I spared”? Another interesting twist to this guilt is the man who becomes horrified to find he had the capacity to enjoy killing and destroying the lives of other people. I have seen variations of these themes in almost all of the cases I have treated with severe PTSD, and this is a very difficult obstacle to overcome.

Where do we go from here?

There is very little doubt that the person experiencing these kinds of emotions, needs to find professional help. The good news in this tragic story is that people do recover and hope flourishes again in the desert of our hearts. War changes people, but beyond the horrific consequences of battle, the person you become is not dependent on the events themselves but on the choices you make, in the face of those events. Who you are at any given time in your life, is not the sum total of all your experiences, although those are indeed primordial. Who you are and who you become is who you choose to be; we are our existential choices.  An old priest told me of his experiences counseling those who were about to die in a firing squad (this was right after a revolution in a Latin American country). Some men had to be dragged and tied to the post, while they cried and begged for their lives, while others walked to their deaths with defiance, refused the blindfold and died yelling at their executioners or praying and singing to God; same fate, different attitude. I was a young adolescent when I heard this story, and throughout my life I always wondered if placed on that situation how would I die. Most importantly, this story always reminded me that I am and I become my choices, even when those choices may just only be the choice of my attitude.  

If you or someone you know is facing these demons, seek out help. The very first step in any type of recovery is the acknowledgment of the problem and the decision to do something about it. The road to recovery may not be easy, but good and wonderful things do not come easy, they take work and commitment. You need to realize the need to open up the old wounds and face them, talk about them, tell them to another human being who will be there for you. You need to find in your heart to forgive yourself for real or imaginal wrongs you did or for the failure to act; to forgive others, to let go of the guilt and the anger you have been harboring for years. You need to find new purposes and goals, new meaning, to renew hope, to heal the pain and to find the path you will walk for the rest of your life. You will not forget your memories, those will always be there, but your understanding of them, your relationship to them and your reaction to them, that will change, and that change will make you free.

Many aspects of this process are not only psychological but spiritual as well. Long before we had psychiatrists and psychologists, people would come to their parishes and spiritual leaders for healing and guidance; it worked for them and it can work for you as well. Confession, forgiveness, and renewal, ancient practices that are never too old or outdated for us to use them.

Galgano Guidotti was a knight who fought bravely in the Crusades and upon his return, he carried with him the invisible wounds of the soul. The story is told that in his despair, he stuck his sword in a rock and turned to God for healing, changing his life forever. Today there is a small chapel in the Galgano Monastery in Montesiepi in Tuscany, Italy where that sword can be seen. It still stands as a reminder of a warrior who found peace and a new purpose in his life; if he did it, you can also do it.

-Spartan

 


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Shoot Him

After about the first six seconds of a real firefight, all you can hear is a loud ringing in your ear that pings to a higher painful pitch with each trigger pull and nearby explosion.  So you yell and communicate with hand arm signals basically.

“Shoot him.”

Two men died at that order and pandemonium ensued.  We found ourselves quickly surrounded and outnumbered and within the first few minutes, as the accuracy and volume of fire increased and our radio communications died, I realized that we needed to get out.  I gave the order to break contact and the battle drill began.

At one point I looked to my left and noticed a pizza hat pop up over the mountain less than 25 meters away.

 

The enemy soldier was behind and above my fire team, in an excellent position to shoot every one of them.  I raised my weapon and fired.  The first round popped some rocks in front of him, the second was closer to being on target.  As he flinched and looked up, he noticed me.  I could see the fear in his eyes as I let rounds three and four fly while improving my standing firing position.  He took off in a sprint and I continued firing, leading him just slightly.  Somewhere between rounds 8-12 he abruptly dropped back below the mountaintop.

No thanks to my terrible accuracy under fire, Intelligence told us we killed 9 men that day.  I had watched the first two go down, and i’m pretty sure a couple others took a LAW rocket to the face, but i’m not sure whether Mr. Pizza Hat was one of them.

What Should I Feel?

I’ve heard so many people say that taking a life isn’t easy, but I really never thought it was that hard.  Combat was surreal to me.  I remember looking into the lifeless eyes of a man missing half his skull and it felt like a movie.  I never watched a man die at my hands, except maybe Mr. Pizza Hat, but I did watch men die, and the part that bothers me most is how little I feel.

I was doing a job, and they were trying to kill me.  Their fatal flaw was being less prepared than I was.  I don’t hate them for what they did; many surely believed in their cause as I believed in mine.  I don’t pity them either, they picked  a fight and lost.  I don’t mourn their death, although i’m sure someone loved them, we all know the risks of that lifestyle.  Most strangely it seems, however, I don’t feel guilt for what I did either.  I really don’t feel strongly about it at all.  I’m not sad, angry, or even happy; I’m indifferent.

Not wanting to talk about it

This post has sat in my queue in “drafts” for weeks because it sounds so damn crazy.  Society and all those who don’t experience combat tell us we should feel something.  We are bombarded with movies, images, and articles telling us how we should feel. It’s as if they think i’m afraid of reliving things I’ve seen.

No. I’m not afraid.

I’m cautious because I know what I’m capable of. I know how easy it is to snuff out a life, and that gives me more respect for the fragility of existence.

Death is easy, living is hard. Don’t quit.

-LJF

Getting out of the military is hard!  Don’t make it harder on yourself by not being prepared!  Buy CONUS Battle Drills:  A Guide for Combat Veterans to Corporate Life, Parenthood, and Caging the Beast Inside!