Facing the Past

Last night, I went through photos from my time in Iraq, trying to gain some inspiration for a blog post. If you haven’t noticed, I have been a little behind with my writing and figured a stroll down memory lane might be good for the creative brain.

While going through photos, I came across a video I recorded while on guard duty at Camp Anaconda from October of 2004. The video clip is black, and you can only hear myself and the other soldier talking because it was the middle of the night, and we were witnessing a wicked lightning storm. I could not recall this moment, and had it not been for the video, I would tell you it never happened.

I began going through more of the short videos I recorded during my combat tour and decided to call my fifteen-year-old daughter into the room to share some videos and stories with her. At first, she couldn’t believe the voice talking was me. I sounded so young, which I was! She became very interested in looking at the photos, and I began telling her stories about some of the soldiers in the pics what happened to different people on our deployment.

She made a comment that hit home for me. She said, “Mom, you had a completely different life before I was born.” And she was right. She was not born until close to two years after my deployment. Even though bringing here into this world was joyful, those were dark years for my PTSD. I struggled every day for close to a decade before I finally began to heal.

During those ten years, I never really shared anything with her. She was the new beginning after combat. In a way, I wasn’t ready to share the stories and memories of her mother’s time in Iraq.

And even though I am still healing, I am better at sharing the stories now. We looked through the photos and videos, laughing at some and feeling sadness at others. My daughter couldn’t believe the devastation of the villages after the military fought battles. It was difficult to see young children in rags, waving so sweetly at the camera. As a teenager in the United States, it put a lot into perspective with everything she could ever need at her fingertips.

After we finished looking at the photos, I went to bed with a peaceful heart. Even though I had just shared stories about my time at war and had been looking at pictures of that time, I was not worried about having a nightmare or flashback. It was, in a way, refreshing to share stories and answer her questions. Talking about my time in Iraq is a form of therapy, just like writing Emily’s story in the Always Forward series has been therapeutic for me.

If you or a loved one has served in the military, you may find some peace in writing or speaking with someone. Even if you write your thoughts or stories down and never share them with anyone, they are still important words, and you should save them. I know it is challenging to talk openly about PTSD and combat. It took me over a decade to be more open about it. But for me, it was the only path to healing. The path may take the rest of my life, and it may not be easy, but I will stay the course. I hope you do too.