PTSD Is A Selfish Disease

I understand the dislike of those that ever speak of PTSD in a negative view.  This day in age, with all of the misinformation and misunderstandings surrounding PTSD, everyone wants to be clear.  It means that it's painted in a very sympathetic light.

I'm not here to say that it's wrong.  I believe that people with PTSD need more understanding.  But one thing that I never hear people talk about is that PTSD is a selfish disorder.

Today my husband and I had another blowout.  It's common.  He's volatile and I'm in constant pain.  My heart is in a constant state of broken.  But our fights never go anywhere.  They can't.  My husband is unable to focus on anything I am saying.  Instead, he is angry that I have feelings, that they are hurt or that I have an opinion about anything.  I am not allowed.

The problem with moving forward is that PTSD is self centered.  In my husbands mind and world, no one is allowed to have pain but him.  And anything I might be feeling is wrong and probably the cause of his own pain.  He is the only one with problems and our whole world and my whole life is expected to revolve around him.

He can spin anything to be my fault and has a knack for turning my feelings into something he can mock and belittle. I can't tell him anything. I never do.  I am often so alone because there is no one I can talk to.

Right now, I will be honest and say we are at a stand still that might never be fixed. He has caused so much daily pain that I have developed apathy and am no longer truly able to be present.  I am not trying anymore which sounds terrible and might make me a horrible person.  But I can't keep going through this.  I tried to explain it to my husband, but all he has done is be angry at me.

Telling someone that you understand by shouting "I understand" at them isn't really understanding.  And all he managed to do was tell me all the things I did that caused this in the most condescending way possible.

People don't talk about that side of it often.  The side that says no one can be in pain but me.  The side that says anyone who is upset with me is wrong.  The side that says none of this bleeds into anyone else's life.

He refuses to see how this affects me.  He refuses to see that only he can be the one to make a decision to fix this.  He refuses to accept that his choices and his PTSD affect my life.

The Man Who Isn't Coming Back: A Spouses Grief Over PTSD

I often feel like people don't understand the grieving process. It sounds strange because my husband came home but at the same time I am grieving the loss of somebody who used to be here who isn't anymore.  I look at my husband every day and I see the man I married, but his actions show me that that man isn't here anymore.

It feels like I should be able to capture the man he used to be. I look around my house every day and see bits and pieces that, together, create that man. Sometimes it feels like I should be able to lay in bed and smell his scent on his pillow and bring him back because it feels like he might still be there somewhere. Sometimes when he is gone, sometimes when he is in the field or on a training mission, I lay in bed breathing in his scent and try to will him to be here, to come back to me.

I watch his familiar habits, the ones he still has, and collect them in my thoughts as if the whole of their motions can bring him back. His stray bits of paper, his pile of cammies in the garage that need to be washed, the visual bits and pieces of him, the bits and pieces that did not get lost.

There are familiar patterns about his day, that almost make it seem like he is here. I know that he is not yet. He's not yet home. But the collection of his habits, his little bits and pieces of the man he used to be are probably the most painful part of my day. Because he is likely not coming home. I love the man I have now with all of my heart, but I am grieving the loss of the man that I married. The man who isn't coming back.