Kind of Like a War Hero

I’m a war hero.

At least I’m kind of like a war hero.

I survived a war,

but was never in the military.

I have battle scars,

but was never in combat.

I have PTSD.

That illness you understand for veterans.

I survived a war,

that I’m still battling.

I’m a survivor,

but I’m still surviving.

I’m a war hero.

At least I’m kind of like a war hero.

My father was my war.

He is still my struggle,

my battle,

my sorrow,

my pain.

I recently saw my father and my brain regressed to a frightened little girl.

Parts of me are still there. Shattered. Frightened. Sad.

Hidden in a corner in my closet, knees scrunched up tight, head buried in.

I will continue to fight, to grow again.

I will love my little girl self and hold her, comfort her and soothe her wounds.

I will be the parent she never had.

I love you Suzie. You are beautiful.

You are strong. You are so many wonderful things.

You can be all the things you couldn’t be before.

Be them now. Find them. Find you.

There is still time.

Find a way.

Become the new you. Anything you want to be.

I am kind of like a veteran.

A different kind of veteran,

but still I need to celebrate me.

I have PTSD, but not the kind you understand.

I was never in the war.

Not that kind of war. A different kind of battle.

I was never sexually abused.

It was not that kind of abuse.

It was the other kinds of abuse.

The physical and the words.

It was the words and how he said them that hurt the most.

The kinds you say I should just get over.

The kinds you think I should just let go.

It was the different kinds of abuse,

but still I have PTSD,

and I am a survivor.

I survived a war.

A different kind of war,

but still I am a survivor.

I survived my father.

I’m still surviving my father.

Each time I see him I return to war.

His words, his tone.

They trigger me back to enter that war zone again.

It is my war. My private battle.

A war I re-enter

each time I see my father

or when an image, a sound, a phrase, or a tone

triggers me back to the battles,

the fear, the pain and the heartache.

I’m a war hero.

At least I’m kind of like a war hero.

I survived a war.

My father

was my war.

I survived my father.

~written by Susan Walz

 

© 2020 Susan Walz | myloudwhispersofhope.com | All Rights Reserved

Photo credit: Photo by Vero Photoart on Unsplash

Why Saving Private Ryan (1998) is My Favorite War Film

The first time I saw this film, I enjoyed it but I always wondered why they never explained the shaky hand that Tom Hanks’ character Captain Miller had in a few scenes.  The most memorable scene with this was at the beginning just before the soldiers storm the beach of Normandy, France. Captain Miller’s hand starts shaking, as if he has had too much coffee and little food, but it seems like he ignores this and the viewer assumes it will be explained later.  They never mention it and only use it as a visual.

I did not understand this when I first saw the film because I was about 12 years old.  I understand now that it was intended to visually show the post-traumatic stress Captain Miller had experienced.  I would also consider this a physical symptom of a panic attack.  I never knew I had anxiety and depression as a child.  I only discovered this recently and I am 31 years old as I write this article. Within the last couple years, I learned what a panic attack really was with first-hand experience.  My attacks were never as severe as others I read about but it was still real.

For almost 5 years, I was a bouncer at a nightclub.  This job came with lots of stress having to babysit 250+ drunk adults.  I have been puked on, pissed on, punched in the face countless number of times, had a homeless man pull a knife on me, and someone tried to intentionally run me over with their car.  All this stress added to my anxiety.  The last 2 years as a bouncer, I noticed that my chest would start pounding if I thought something serious was happening.  A balloon popped during New Year’s Eve and I spent 10 minutes trying to calm down.

I checked my heart rate one of these times and noticed that it was still within the normal range.  My heart rate was not elevated but my chest was pounding.  I looked up what this could mean and everything said this was a symptom of a panic attack.  I had never had a panic attack before and these had been going on for about 6 weeks before I looked it up.  When I have a panic attack, or if I think my life might be threatened, my chest starts pounding and I become hyper alert looking at and listening to everything.

I do not know if I have post-traumatic stress but I do have anxiety and some of the symptoms are similar.  This film resonates with me more and more each time I watch it.  I can relate to Captain Miller even more now than I did 20 years ago.  I understand the emotions and thoughts that are going through his mind before storming Normandy beach.  I understand why his hand is shaking during certain scenes of the film.  I understand why he still gets out of the boat despite the threat of losing his life. Courage does not mean you are not afraid.  It means you go anyway.