22 a Day: My Story of Veteran Suicide Survival
“This is going to hurt,” said the surgeon as she rushed into the emergency room. Without anesthesia, she pried apart my ribs and inserted chest tubes into my side in order to release the blood that had filled my chest cavity and collapsed one of my lungs. Immediately my blood covered her scrubs and began pooling onto the floor beside the hospital bed. The race to keep me alive was underway.
Lying in a hospital bed with three self-inflicted stab wounds, I was almost included in an often overlooked statistic. While veterans make up only 8.5% of the adult population, veterans’ suicides account for 18% of the suicide deaths in the country.1 This equates to a startling number of veteran suicides. According to a 2012 report by the Department of Veterans Affairs, an average of twenty-two veterans take their life each day.2 Unfortunately, most Americans are unaware of the fact that suicides among veterans have become an all too common occurrence and Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD) is often the reason for it. I am alive today to tell my story about my experiences with PTSD and how I cope with this disorder.
Creating a Soldier
I enlisted in the United States Army my senior year of high school. Within two weeks after graduation, I found myself in basic training, or boot camp as it is commonly known. As a seventeen year-old kid, I had no idea the kind of transformation I was undergoing. Most people associate physical conditioning with basic training, and that is definitely a large portion of it. However, there is also a psychological aspect to basic training. In effect, the first few weeks of boot camp is known as the “break-down” phase, in which recruits are broken down physically and mentally. Only then can the Army effectively build a recruit into the type of soldier the United States demands.
This “break down” effect is accomplished through various methods, such as the intimidation of drill sergeants screaming, pushing a body to exhaustion coupled with lack of sleep, and the standard of perfection in every little detail. During the first few weeks, new recruits seemingly can’t do anything correctly. They are often punished by verbal attacks and made to perform various forms of physical exercise. Personally, I remember doing push-ups to the point of muscle exhaustion and collapsing so that my face landed on the concrete and busted my nose. This break-down, however, is necessary in order to rebuild recruits into soldiers willing to perform their duties without question.
This rebuilding continues throughout the careers of soldiers in the United States Army in proportion to the job duties and positions of each soldier. For example, there is a dehumanizing effect achieved through countless hours soldiers spend at rifle ranges shooting at silhouette targets of people, often designed to imitate perceived enemies the United States is currently facing, or is projected to face. Specifically, when I went through boot camp in 1996, the targets were plastic imitations of Russian soldiers which we affectionately referred to as “Ivans.”
This dehumanizing aspect is crucial to the effectiveness of soldiers to perform their duties. It minimizes the soldiers’ hesitancy to engage their enemies with lethal force in combat situations. Simply put, this trains people to shoot other people without hesitating and trying to rationalize the action. This is a critical change to the psyche of all soldiers, particularly those in combat-focused jobs and units.
Don’t misunderstand me. I am not demonizing this type of training. In fact, I believe it is crucial in order for soldiers to perform their duties effectively. I base this on my own experiences and those I witnessed in combat situations. I am, however, saying the military does a poor job of “un-training.” While these particular skills often keep soldiers alive during combat, they aren’t necessarily useful in the real world as a civilian. Unfortunately there isn’t much help and guidance for “turning off the switch” once it has been turned on. Coupling this with other issues soldiers may have developed through military service, such as PTSD and Traumatic Brain Injury, further exasperates the difficulties of readjusting to “normal” life.
Training in Action — Operation Iraqi Freedom
I was deployed to Iraq from March 2004 to February 2005. Logistics Support Area Anaconda, where I was stationed, was attacked 370 times by rockets and mortars during my tour, thereby provoking a continual state of readiness. To those of us stationed there, this base was commonly known as Mortaritaville, due to the almost daily frequency of attacks. These attacks became so common that most of us rarely reacted to them at the time. Only now, looking back, am I able to truly rationalize the threat we faced.
In addition to the threats faced on base in Iraq, I led numerous convoys throughout the country which provided their own dangers. Improvised Explosive Devices (IEDs) were the new weapons of choice being used to attack military convoys throughout Iraq. These were made out of artillery shells left over from Iraq’s long war with Iran, soda cans, other debris, and even dead animal carcasses. They were strategically placed alongside the roads. Many of these explosives were remote detonated, often by radios, garage door openers, or cell phones. In addition to IEDs, small arms fire was also encountered occasionally on convoys. This typically consisted of sporadic shots taken against our vehicles. Since it was legal in Iraq for each family to own, and openly carry, an AK-47 assault rifle, we never knew who was our enemy until we were fired upon. Finally, a tragic weapon that was occasionally used in Iraq were suicide bombers. These took the form of jihadists wearing a suicide vest or filling their car with explosives, only to detonate them when they got close to American troops. Horrendously, this also sometimes took the form of children strapped with hidden explosives, who approached American vehicles and troops, only to have their explosives detonated, oftentimes by their zealous parents. These radical enemies were willing to sacrifice themselves, or their own children, in order to take the lives of American soldiers.
No amount of training can properly prepare soldiers for the mental aspect of combat. Years of target practice on plastic cutouts of Russian soldiers could never prepare me for the reality of innocent children being used as weapons against us. Our enemy did not wear a uniform, but came in many forms, and used a variety of weapons to effect harm, destruction, and death upon their targets. To put it bluntly, as it has been often said, war is Hell!
Post-Deployment
Completing my tour in Iraq, I transitioned back to the United States. While there was a great amount of respect for those of us who had recently served in combat, there was also an underlying stigma for those who admitted something was wrong with them upon returning home. I believe this stigma was developed through years of training to fight in combat situations while avoiding the mental and emotional aspects associated with it. Furthermore, to admit something was wrong meant losing my position of command, and the respect of other soldiers, I spent years to develop. Because of this perceived stigma, I adamantly denied I had any unresolved issues, as is the case with many soldiers.
Unfortunately, denial didn’t make it true. In spite of my egotistical belief that I was fine, I exhibited numerous undiagnosed symptoms of PTSD. I experienced nightmares and flashbacks related to specific combat events that took place during my time in Iraq. Without realizing it, I emotionally separated from those around me. I purposely avoided crowds and became anxious when I found myself in one. I was easily startled. Additionally, I was often irritable and had occasional outbursts of anger. Yet, I insisted nothing was wrong with me.
The Attempt
I quickly entered into a relationship as a way of coping with the unresolved issues I was afraid to face. My girlfriend and I had intense arguments, often the result of my PTSD symptoms. During one such argument, she screamed, “Why don’t you just go back to Iraq and die?” The instantaneous emotional pain I felt was beyond words. I completely lost it. Within a matter of seconds, I had grabbed a knife that was laying on my workbench and plunged it into my chest three times.
I collapsed on the floor as my chest cavity immediately filled with blood. I could barely breathe. Horrified, my girlfriend called 911. The EMTs arrived and put me on a ventilator as I was loaded into an ambulance.
I remained in the Intensive Care Unit in critical condition for five of my ten days in the hospital. Several times the doctors feared I wasn’t going to make it. Some of those times, I wasn’t sure I wanted to.
After those first five days, the chest tubes were removed and the medical staff was confident I would physically survive. I remained under observation for the next five days, as the medical staff continued to monitor my vital signs, as well as checking on my psychological state.
Admitting the Problem
Upon leaving the hospital, I finally admitted I needed help. It’s amazing what a brush with death will do to enhance personal awareness. Ironically, this close call with death affected me in ways that combat hadn’t. I never really considered the lethal danger I faced in combat, until I got home. I believe this was partly due to the adrenaline rush and training that is active in combat situations. I had focused on the missions at hand. Nonetheless, this suicide attempt woke me up to the underlying problems I tried my best to hide.
Many mental health experts rightfully explain the first and most important step to any type of recovery is admitting to yourself that you have a problem. Once I made that admission, doctors diagnosed my condition as PTSD. I began treatment through regular counseling sessions and prescription anti-depressants. I learned about PTSD, including the symptoms, the effects, and coping strategies. The anti-depressants balanced my moods so I could process events and information more clearly.
This was definitely not an easy process. I still had periods of denial, coupled with battling the same symptoms of PTSD. Over time, however, these lessened as I developed new habits and ways of thinking. Eventually I was taken off the anti-depressants, and my counseling sessions became less frequent as I daily employed the strategies I learned through my treatment.
Life Goes On
I still have PTSD, but I now have a greater awareness of its effect on my life and how I can cope with it. While there are still certain situations I avoid, I am able to maintain a functional and productive life. I have been able to develop a career and maintain healthy relationships in my personal life. Also, I have been able to use these positive changes in my own life to provide encouragement and support for other veterans who are experiencing similar difficulties.
22 a Day
Unfortunately, the number of suicides among veterans has remained consistently high over the past decade. People are starting to become more aware of this problem, but there is a long way to go. The expression “22 a Day” alludes to the number of veterans that take their own lives every day. I was almost one of them. However, I am now able to share my experiences and maintain a healthy life as a combat veteran who has learned to effectively manage my PTSD.
It is my hope this awareness continues to grow throughout our country down to our communities. Rather than just telling a veteran “Thank you for your service,” I challenge everyone to listen to the stories they are willing to share, and offer words of encouragement to those who have already sacrificed so much. Maybe then the phrase “22 a Day” will become a thing of the past.
1. US Veterans Magazine. “Shocking Military Suicide Rates and Identifying the Signs.” https://www.usveteransmagazine.com/2017/09/shocking-military-suicide-rates-identifying-signs/ [accessed October 15, 2018].
2. Department of Veterans Affairs. Suicide Data Report, 2012.
