A Vietnam Vet Explains P.T.S.D., Past Trauma, Stated Differently. 

Welcome home, thank for your service. Over thirty five years clean and sober for my self.

I grew up in the home of a combat veteran who served in three wars; the South Pacific Theater, Korea, and Vietnam. He had been a functional alcoholic for the duration of his twenty-three years on active duty. Upon his retirement, after being passed over three times for promotion to Full Coronel, he retired; That's when our lives as his children became unbearable. We never knew, when he came through the front door, what could happen. He could be in a joyful state one minute and he would transform into a raging maniac. The more he drank, the more vicious and violent he would become. When I was thirteen, I could no longer endure his brutal beatings. I felt like he was destroying my dignity as a civilized being. As I raised my fists, the look in his eyes expressed an evil I had never seen before. I got one right cross in that sent his dentures flying across the room, then he commenced a volume of punches that within seconds, my eyes were swollen shut. He continued to pound on my face until every finger and his thumb was broken on his right hand. By then, I was on the floor, lying in a pool of my own blood. He began kicking me over and over; I could hear my mother screaming, "Scott, Scott; stop, you're going to kill him." I don't know how many kicks my to head it took to knock me unconscious. I awoke hours later because I needed to pee. I couldn't see as my eyes were swollen shut. My bigs were broken, and when I was able to get my legs over the edge of my bed, I couldn't stand up. I peed on the floor and laid back down. My mother came down to check on me at some point and found a pool of blood on the floor next to my bed. She ran up to the second floor from the basement to wake my father. She told him I needed to go to the hospital. He told her, "No way. He can die for all I care." I joined the Army on November 8th, 1971. I was the Platoon Leader for the 4th Platoon of Echo Company and interviewed for Special Forces and Ranger Training before catching a Drill Instructor selling drugs to the men in my Platoon. I turned him into my Drill Sargeant, and he said he would take care of it. The next night, I was so severely beaten that I had to be hospitalized. Once I returned to my training company, I received death threats. While on my way back to my Company Area, I passed Military Records. I'd volunteered for Vietnam and figured if this is how the military treats its own; I changed my beneficiary on my G I Insurance from my Mother to the Angela Davis Defense Fund. She was going on trial in San Rafael, California for having been accused of smuggling guns into the Courthouse where she was defending some Black Panthers. Upon reporting back to Top, I was greeted by two CID Officers who escorted me to mental health where I was required to undergo a psychological examination. I was discharged from the Army with a less than Honorable Discharge. I did not attend my Father's or Mother's funerals. The VA would not diagnose my PTSD until the year 2014, forty-two years after ETS. They would not inform me of my diagnosis for two more years when after an explosive event in the office of a VA Doctor, I was escorted to Mental Health for another mental evaluation. Because they could establish traumatic events (my Father's abuse of me) I was not eligible for Service-Connected PTSD compensation.

Thank you for your views on PTSD but as a Vietnam Veteran 1964,1965,1966, the PTSD DEMAN still lives within you no matter what Doctors and others say are do the Demam will always haunt you, but its okay you learn to keep going, and put your trust in God himself for guidance and help it's okay to cry, God bless you and your staff for helping us with PTSD.

I served with Co. D 1/8th. Cav. My first big fire fight was March 20th. 1967. You and I were probably at Fort Jackson at the same time. First Team!

Gary, thank you for your journey and for your advocacy. All good things!

🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻👏🏼🎖🎖🎖🎖🎖 Thank u for serving.

I suffer from complex ptsd…it’s getting better bit by bit through Christ. For years nobody could help or drugs..but Yeshua is taking me piece by piece healing the broken bits. This veteran is correct…heal the cause not treat the symptoms. Evil destroyed my soul….the only one who could fix my soul is Christ.

I'm a Vietnam veteran and I understand what you are presenting. Most people don't understand.

👏🏼👏🏼👏🏼👏🏼👏🏼👏🏼👏🏼👏🏼👏🏼👏🏼

Interesting. I know what you speak of.

U servicemen women an service dogs were,nt given the respect help or guidence needed.🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻