Personal dealings with the Veterans Administration and exacerbation of my PTSD symptoms.

I am a combat veteran of Operation Iraqi Freedom. I served as a Combat Medic in a field hospital and on the ground in Iraq in 2003 and 2004. Upon my return I encountered the same difficulties most soldiers experience returning to my everyday life. My personal symptoms persisted long after other soldiers symptoms had subsided. I found my inability to cope with stress and my “Zero Tolerance” for what I considered “Idiotic Behavior” would erupt into fits of anger. Then came the nightmares and flashbacks.

In the past I had often regarded veterans who claimed to have flashbacks to be either crazy or faking it. That was until the day I actually had one. I never knew the severity of a life where your mind traps you and makes you see things that aren’t there. The mind can be a cruel adversary. It doesn’t care if your are in the middle of something or in a particular setting. It controls you without mercy.

In 2005 I attempted suicide. After my unsuccessful attempt, I checked myself into the Veterans Administration Hospital. What I sought was help, what I got was heavily medicated. I never got to speak with an actual doctor. I spoke with a staff member who regarded the questions he had to ask me as a stupid waste of his time. Day after day, I would be medicated and then taken to the day room where I would play checkers with myself, try to assemble a model car they gave me without the glue and set and watch the other heavily medicated vets setting there, looking out the window, rocking back and forth with blank looks on their faces. These images would last until my meds kicked in and I became the same kind of vegetable blankly staring into space.

I can’t tell you exactly how long I was there because of the medication induced coma I was subjected to.
I was finally able to speak with the doctor. I would have said anything to get out of there. And so, I was released. After my stay in the hospital, I was instructed to continue the medications. I continued my visits with the Mental Hygiene Clinic and my medications. There are still parts of 2005 I don’t remember.

In late 2006, I went back to the VA, this time for an evaluation for disability. I was awarded 30% VA Disability for PTSD and began receiving benefits. Throughout 2006 and 2007 my symptoms persisted. I was unable to hold a job. I was still enlisted in the National Guard and in July of 2007, I had heart problems while training at Fort Sill.

When I got home my military career was over, my social life was non-existent and personal relationships suffered. I felt as though I was at the end of my rope. That is until I met and fell for the most amazing woman who extended her hand and her emotions. Her will is strong and she only wants the best for me. She is my rock and continues to support me through this.

In 2007 after dealing with reoccurring nightmares and extended periods of sleeplessness, anger, agoraphobia and overall anxiety, I again went to the VA for counseling. I was again heavily medicated. I was given a cocktail of medications which made me a total zombie. It seems as though all they wanted to do was throw drugs at me. During the time I was taking these new drugs all I did was sleep and eat. I gained 40 pounds and was a hollow shell with no resemblance of the person I once was.

The VA doctors never looked at my records and prescribed me medications which I found out later were not conducive of someone with a heart condition. After being on the meds for a few months I started noticing changes. Left was right. Up was down. I would go to walk down the steps and take a step up. I would turn on the lights when I left the room. The kicker was when I went to get into my car and climbed in on the passenger side and wondered where the steering wheel was. I could have killed someone. That was the day I stopped taking the meds.

I did not know it at the time but most of the meds I was on required you to be weaned off. Since I quit cold turkey, the following weeks were very painful. To this day, I am still feeling some effects of the medications. I later heard of two veterans who died in their sleep while taking the same medication cocktail I was given.

During this time, my file was reopened and I was awarded 100% VA Disability for my PTSD. Only this time there is a question as to my competency. I am still receiving the original $512.00 per month previously awarded, but the VA is withholding the additional money pending a decision as to whether I am competent enough to handle my own finances. Not being able to work and trying to live on little more than $500 a month is impossible. And now it seems as though the VA wants to withhold my benefits in order for me to become completely destitute.

I can not afford to put my old Jeep on the road, therefore I am stuck depending on others for a ride. Even if it were on the road, I couldn’t afford gas. I can barely afford food, rent is out of the question and my clothing is beginning to deteriorate. I never wanted to be a homeless vet, but I fear that if something doesn’t break soon, very soon, I will be.

I was competent enough to go to war. Competent enough to identify that I had a problem and needed help from the VA. I was competent enough to fill out all the forms and read the publications in order to file for a claim. I am competent enough not to get into any trouble with the authorities. Yet I am not competent enough to handle my own money? It truly boggles the mind. The simple act of writing this proves that I retain at least a minute amount of competency.

Why is it that no one ever questioned the competency of the doctors prescribing drugs that conflict with a heart condition to a patient with one?

Now I find my days, hours and minutes consumed with the fact that the VA seems to be acting as an antagonist. In the months I have been dealing with this my dreams are more frequent, I have had reoccurring flashbacks and my mood suffers. I set all day worried about money and how to make ends meet and find it hard to carry on. I sometimes feel like the VA wants me to either quit or die so they wont have to award my benefits.
This has been a very taxing experience. Every time I call the VA for information I am either given the run around of false information.
Once again, I can’t sleep and my anxiety level is slowly eating away at me. Everyday I am in pain and I am beginning to lose hope. How much more do I have to lose before help arrives?

I have written to my Congressman and Senator. I have enlisted the help of the American Legion. I also began a letter writing campaign to the VA in reference to my file. And as of today I am no closer to receiving any benefits than I was previously.

All of this and I am so ashamed of having this disorder. It would have been much easier had I lost a limb or been killed in battle. At least people wouldn’t look at me like I am crazy or a fake. Physically, except for my hearing and a hand injury, I came home without a scratch. And I can’t help but feel like I am less for my experiences. However, through all of this, I am still very proud of my service and would, to this day, give my life to defend this great nation. Fore, I believe that beneath the muck that is covering its surface, there are still the beliefs, values and great land that our forefathers saw when they created the United States of America.