Progress not perfection

January 2010 I was beat.  I had just come home from a 10 day stay at the VA Hospital in Atlanta.  Drastic changes were made to my medications over those 10 days, and I was just starting to adjust to the new meds.  At that point in my life it was difficult for me to be anywhere except my room, if I came downstairs at all it was just to eat.  I am not sure I have ever felt as hopeless and out of control as the previous months leading up to my hospitalization.  Friends that I served with had killed themselves and the path that I was on I would probably have become one of the statistics.  I had been out of the Army for a little over three years and not a whole lot had improved.  I hadn’t had a drink in a couple of years, but that hadn’t stopped me from finding anything I could to make me numb, to not remember, to not think.  Ultimately that is what led me to the VA Hospital.  God is doing for me what I can not do for myself.

I am not sure if any of you have ever met a doctor that genuinely cared for your well being.  When I was in Colorado going to all of the groups, all of the meetings, all of the psychiatrists, all of the social workers, it seemed like everyone was going through the motions.  “Take two of these, I will see you next week,’ except it was about 16 of these in my case.  I was a walking zombie.  I slurred my speech.  I could not wake up in the morning.  I was irrational and viciously angry when I did wake up.  The doctor that I had while at the VA was nothing short of miraculous.  God is doing for me what I can not do for myself.

I don’t remember the first couple of days at the hospital.  The amount of medication that I ingested lead me to that point.  When I came to, I was in a bed, in the dark, in an unfamiliar place.  I didn’t take long to realize where I was, I did remember the trip to the hospital, most of it anyway.  The psychiatrist that had been assigned to me was young, attractive, and easy to talk to.  Almost immediately I felt that I could almost trust her, that she genuinely wanted to help.  It was decided that we would make major changes to the meds that I was on, reducing this, dropping that, and adding this.  God is doing for me what I can not do for myself.

The types of medications that I was on were pretty serious anti-depressants and anti-psychotics, not to mention the medications that I have to take to keep my migraines under control, and the ones that I take when I start getting a migraine.  These medications have some pretty serious side effects, and to stop them cold turkey can cause things like seizures and other not so exciting events.  Since I was hospitalized it was possible to make changes to these meds in a short amount of time.  It was not easy.  There were several anxiety attacks, several migraines, several nights where I didn’t sleep a minute, several flashbacks.  Suicidal?  No.  Homicidal?  Without a doubt.  My doctor, who had an intern with her most of the time, came to see me twice a day to see how I was feeling.  I had a few visitors, my parents came multiple times, and my sponsor came to see me as well.  One of these visits my Mom brought a Wounded Warrior news letter with her and had me read the article on the front page.  It was a story about a Vet who had a service dog and how the dog had impacted his life.  My parents asked if that was something I was interested in, and of course it was.  Again, God is doing for me what I can not do for myself.

I was out of the hospital just in time for Christmas, which I spent in my room for the most part.  I had started doing some research on organizations that provided service animals, but there was really only one that caught my eye.  They weren’t one of the puppy farm organizations that brings 50 people in on a cattle truck every week, lets the dogs lose in the room and the one that licks your face is the one you take home.  The paperwork.  I don’t do paperwork.  I can’t stand it, nothing gets me angry like answering a bunch of personal questions about myself that is going to get sent off for some stranger to read.  I couldn’t do my paperwork for the VA, and couldn’t do it here either.  One thing that I realize now is how important having a support system is.  My parents are amazing.  They are a big reason of why I am here today.  If I did not have them looking out for me, there is really only one place that I could see myself.  I have heard so many horror stories of Vets just getting shafted cause of the paperwork, the hoops you have to jump through to get your benefits.  God is doing for me what I can not do for myself.

The paperwork was sent, I can’t really remember what happened next, I just know that strangers came to my house to talk to me and ask me questions.  “Are you sure this is really something you want to do?”  This was asked over and over again.  I would tell Terry and the others a little about myself, Terry or Kyria would explain a little about paws4vets, and then Terry would ask again, “Are you sure this is really something you want to do?”  I was at a bottom.  I have hit several bottoms, but I have always seemed to dig a little deeper each time.  Willingness is the key to recovery, I don’t have to do anything, but if I am willing to give something a shot, then I believe that is a step in the right direction.  By the time our meeting was over, there was a few inches of snow on the ground, I got a kick out of watching folks slide down my driveway.  Again, I really can not remember too much of what was going through my head, it was an incredibly stressful time for me and my family.  I was broke.  My parents were beat, but they were willing to try whatever they thought might help me improve my quality of life.  paws4vets was the next thing to try.

It is amazing to me to look back at the series of events that led me to where I am today.  I am grateful that everything has happened exactly as it has, if one minor thing was different I may not be in the position I am today.  Amidst all of this chaos, I was being taken care of.  No matter what I did, a positive resulted from it.  Thinking about these things really makes me question what my purpose is, why me?  Why am I here?

I spent almost a year working with CAROLINE (my first dog).  I spent almost a year wondering what the hell was wrong with me, what was wrong with this dog?  I have done EVERYTHING you people have asked me to do, and all you want is more!  I made several trips to Ft. Stewart, watched people that had been in the program less than half the time I was in walk home with their dogs.  I was there the day Terry had to go get TAZIE from the prison in Jesup.  I was there to watch her come in the Mod with her tail between her legs, and watched her scoot as far into a corner under a stack of chairs as she could.  I know that feeling.  I made several trips to Charlotte only to get emails asking what I had done to CAROLINE.  Why is it taking her four days to recover from spending two with you?  The decision was made to not place CAROLINE with me.  That gave me three choices:  1)  Wait for the possibility of having another service dog placed with me.  2)  Get a RAD (Rehabilitative Assistance Dog).  3) Find another organization that will place an animal with me.  Not only was this my three options, but I also had six (if I recall) objectives for me to meet BEFORE paws4vets would even consider the first two.  Really?  REALLY!!??  I needed some time to think about his one.  The phone rings one afternoon, and it is Terry.  He asked if I could foster TAZIE for a couple of weeks.  I had decided that I wanted to go ahead and get a RAD, I had invested quite a bit of myself in paws4vets and really did not see the sense in starting over with someone else.  I believed that they had my best interest in mind, accepting that was a different story, but everyone that I had met was doing amazing things.  The plan was for me to go to Stewart, pick up TAZIE, and then when I was going to be doing my bump for the RAD, I would bring TAZIE with me and let Terry take her.  God is doing for me what I can not do for myself.

To say that TAZIE has impacted my life in a positive way wouldn’t even begin to describe what she has done.  I have gone places with 200+ people, I have spoken several times to groups of people about PTSD, about TAZIE, about what she is doing for me.  I did a couple of Summer Camps at the Humane Society for kids, with TAZIE.  I actually go downstairs to talk with my parents, for no real reason at all.  I guess I have a hard time describing the difference, and if you did not know me a couple of years ago, this may not seem like much.  The work that I have done in my recovery from both PTSD and alcoholism has led me to new understandings, new insights on what makes me tick, why I do the things I do.  I have learned more about myself in the last two years than I knew about myself in the previous 32.  It is almost like a new realization comes to me weekly, new discoveries, new chapters in my life are being written.  To actually be grateful for something, anything, was once a foreign concept.  To see that I can actually develop and nurture a bond with TAZIE was something that I could never wrap my brain around.  If I can do this with TAZIE, why can I not do this with people.  I had no idea what Terry and the rest of paws4vets was hoping they would see one day with CAROLINE.  I know exactly what they were looking for now.

I am certainly not out of the dark.  I have a long way to go.  Nearly everything is still a trigger for me, causes my anxiety to peak, but I am pretty sure that I see a light ahead of me.  God is doing for me what I can not do for myself.