When Home Is A Strange Place

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The first time home, I was struck by the silence.

My wife and I snuggled in our BOQ room at Cherry Point, NC. I cracked the windows for fresh air, and it was difficult to sleep those nights. You are so accustomed to the sounds of war on base, the constant throbbing of generators running everywhere you go. Heavy trucks driving by your spaces. Helicopters flying overhead. It’s the “white noise” of war that helps you go to bed; you miss that when you return.

My kids were young, and my wife was very resourceful. I had some depression that first week or two home. I wasn’t in charge anymore like I was “over there” because my wife was maintaining control of our house and had been raising the kids without my help. I had to learn about my children again. I had to control my sense of wanting to change things right away.

With kids, I realized you have to readjust and come at them slowly, allowing them to get to know you better. They were used to Mommy being the end-all-be-all in their lives.  The same thing happened to my father when he came off a seven-month deployment on his ship. I took some of those buried lessons to heart.

Different deployment, different transition
It was easier to transition back from Iraq for me despite the fact that we experienced more death and destruction there.  Numerous times, I would be waiting at the hospital next door to our office to help out with mass casualty arrivals so that we could determine how many helicopters to spool up for the Medivac to Balad.  The near-walking dead and severely burned were carried off on stretchers from metal helicopter floors slick with blood.

By comparison, in Afghanistan I traveled daily around Kabul by myself. We evaluated the training of the Afghan National Police. I never experienced death there like I did in Iraq. But for some reason the tension derived from constantly anticipating IEDs and SVBIEDs gave me nightmares.

Once home, I would get upset if we were stuck in traffic. I was constantly seeking escape routes in case of an IED. My wife and family were quick to notice my agitation. It’s hard to turn off that “war switch” when you get home. But once you figure out no is trying to kill you at home, life becomes much better.

Finding your therapy
After Afghanistan, I would wake up at 3 am unable to sleep. After tossing and turning, I would sit at the computer and put my thoughts to paper. This was good therapy for me.  This went on for about a year and a half. In talking with a buddy, I discovered he was going through the same thing. His counselor had diagnosed this as PTSD.

For me, it seemed to work itself out of my system over the years. I bottled up a lot of stuff; it wasn’t until I was a having a deep conversation with a buddy one night that all these emotions poured out. I cried hard for the first time. I was embarrassed the next day at the thought of breaking down, but it truly helped.

You can access many different resources to help you upon your return, but I found the Warrior Gateway to be the most helpful (http://www.warriorgateway.org/). I highly suggest returning soldiers start here when they get home.

For any Vets reading this, thank you for your service!  Share your experiences; it may be the tipping point to help another “brother from a different mother” as I call my military friends who make up the fabric of freedom of our great nation.

Mitch “Taco” Bell is a LtCol in the Marine Corps Reserves. He has deployed to Iraq once (Aug 2005 to Feb 2006) and to Kabul, Afghanistan (March 2008 to Oct 2008). He also spent three weeks in in Afghanistan in June 2009, touring the prison systems. He blogs at http://thesandgram.com.

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