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A Heartfelt Thank You

2/25/2013

Yesterday, I posted my latest blog entry (you can see it here). I had been having a rough few days and I talked about it extensively. I talked about how the Phillip Phillips song, 'Gone, Gone, Gone' is what had gotten me through the moment and allowed me to find peace. As is the usual when I reference someone in my blog entry, I add them to my tweet in the hopes that they see it. Honestly, I didn't think, with how crazy P2's twitter feed is that anyone would even notice my post.

And then it happened. I started getting a lot of traffic from Twitter. People started retweeting my post, favoriting it and reaching out to me to comment on my blog. It was an amazing and overwhelming response. I never thought that so many would connect with my writing. It was an amazing feeling to know that I was able to reach so many and illustrate the human side of what it means to have combat PTSD.

With this in mind, I wanted to thank the fans or 'Philatics' who have demonstrated an amazing capacity for compassion for a stranger. Your passionate comments and support are a testament to the type of music that Phillip Phillips makes - it only draws to highest quality of individual.

Again, thank you all so much for your amazing display of support. I promise, no matter how bad it gets that 'like a drum, my heart won't stop beating'.

Yours in Health and Happiness,

Max Harris

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PTSD and Nightmares: An Unexpected and Unwelcome Change in Perspective

2/24/2013

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WARNING: The following blog post is very graphic and will disturb some readers. If you have PTSD, this account could trigger you. Despite this, I had to get it out of my head and try to think through what happened.

The silence was deafening, but we all knew what was coming. I don't know if I held my breath for seconds or minutes. Time has ceased to have meaning when they fired on their own troops.

And then it started.

The wail was not loud, but the pain it expressed carried farther than should have been possible. It was a wail of excruciating and knowing pain. It was the death cry of a man who knew he had moments to live...but an eternity to die. When we stepped out of the vehicle to assess the carnage, we immediately moved to assist the wounded. The LT had been shot through the midsection by a .50 and his cries had settled into a low moan getting fainter by the second.

I didn't think it was possible for a body to contain that much blood. It pooled in the cracks in the road, surrounding his body. It glistened darkly and left a coppery taste in my mouth and nose. Others were already doing what they could for the LT, so I moved on.

The female medic had been shot by a 5.56 round through the upper thigh. Her face was white as a sheet, the corners of her eyes wrinkled in confusion and pain. I assisted lifting her into the back of the vehicle and we drove her back to the TOC.

I took the vehicle back out and that's when I saw him. The medic was frantically trying to stem the flow the arterial blood that pulsed from what was left of the old man's thigh. I knelt down next to the medic and the old man. I felt the warm, sticky wetness seep through the knees of my DCUs. I applied direct pressure to wound in the old man's leg.

He never made a sound. I just watched his eyes roll back in his head. Somehow, were able to stabilize him. I heard the medevac chopper flying low toward the emergency landing zone in the field next to the road. I stood up to assist the medic in lifting the wounded man onto the stretcher.

I felt a strange pain in my chest and my hand sliding into my own ribcage. It settled in the space next to my heart. I felt the flutter and beat of my heart as it tried to keep me alive. I opened my eyes and I was looking up at myself. I was working to lift me onto the stretcher. Confused, I looked down and I saw that I had traded places with the old man. The mangled remains of my right leg somehow seemed worse from this angle. I looked back up at me and saw the look of sadness in my eyes.

"How is this possible?" I screamed. The other me looked down at me and closed his eyes tightly, trying in vain to hide the horror on his face.

I felt the otherworldly pain of someone jerking their forearm and hand out of my chest.

Everything quickly faded to nothing except the faint echo of my response to me:

"You tell me. It's your hell"

I startled awake and felt the familiar pain of bile burning the back of my throat. As was becoming the norm, I had woken up from the nightmare choking on my own vomit. I scrambled out of bed and ran to the bathroom. I vomited repeatedly into the sink. I dry-heaved for an hour, unable to clear the bile from the back of my throat. When the gag reflex receded, I continued to salivate and spit for another hour. I finally dared to look up and didn't recognize the person staring back at me. My face had a gaunt, almost skeletal quality to it that I hadn't seen before. My eyes were swollen and red, the blood vessels in my eyes inflamed.

"I thought things were getting better"

That's a common thought that runs through my mind every time I start to physically recover from my nightmares. It finally sank in yesterday that the nightmares seemed to be their worst after the deepest and darkest moments of my latest episode have receded far enough for me to see and recognize the insanity that others call 'hope'.

I was too exhausted to sleep after that moment. I somehow didn't let on at work that I had this horrible experience Friday night into Saturday. I was afraid to go to sleep last night and slept fitfully until something woke me up. I had only been in bed for an hour or so, but my heart was racing and I didn't know why. Determined to fight this feeling of complete helplessness, I ran for my iPad, plugged in my earbuds and turned on the Phillip Phillips. Something in one of his songs vibrated through me and I finally felt at peace.

"Gone, Gone, Gone"

When life leaves you high and dry
I'll be at your door tonight
If you need help, if you need help
I'll shut down the city lights,
I'll lie, cheat, I'll beg and bribe
To make you well, to make you well

When enemies are at your door
I'll carry you away from war
If you need help, if you need help
Your hope dangling by a string
I'll share in your suffering
To make you well, to make you well

Give me reasons to believe
That you would do the same for me

And I would do it for you, for you
Baby, I'm not moving on
I love you long after you're gone.
For you, for you.
You would never sleep alone
I love you long after you're gone
And long after you're gone, gone, gone.

When you fall like a statue
I'm gon' be there to catch you
Put you on your feet, you on your feet
And if your well is empty
Not a thing will prevent me
Tell me what you need, what do you need

I surrender honestly
You've always done the same for me

So I would do it for you, for you.
Baby, I'm not moving on
I love you long after you're gone.
For you, for you.
You would never sleep alone.
I love you long after you're gone
And long after you're gone gone gone.

You're my back bone,
You're my cornerstone
You're my crutch when my legs stop moving
You're my head start,
You're my rugged heart
You're the pulse that I've always needed
Like a drum, baby, don't stop beating
Like a drum, baby, don't stop beating
Like a drum, baby, don't stop beating
Like a drum my heart never stops beating

For you, for you
Baby I'm not moving on
I love you long after you're gone.
For you, for you.
You would never sleep alone
I love you long after you're gone.
For you, for you.
Baby I'm not moving on,
I love you long after you're gone.
For you, for you.
You would never sleep alone.
I love you long, long after you're gone.

Like a drum, baby, don't stop beating
Like a drum, baby, don't stop beating
Like a drum, baby, don't stop beating
Like a drum my heart never stops beating for you

And long after you're gone, gone, gone.
I love you long after you're gone gone, gone.

I'd listened to this song many times before, but the lyrics never really registered until last night and I knew I had found an anthem that would put my mind at ease and always remind me that I wasn't going through this alone. I had the love of my wife, friend, family, and even strangers to keep my head above water - even when I didn't have the strength to keep myself afloat. So this one's for all of you - You Know Who You Are.

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A Heartfelt Thank You

PTSD and Nightmares: An Unexpected and Unwelcome Change in Perspective

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Max Harris

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