Care Giver Burn Out

CAUTION: I must warn you about my language, there’s not much- but still, you have been warned. Yes, I am educated enough to choose different words. But I am making a point.

Caregiver. Burn. Out.

Burned out. Exhausted. Mentally checked out.  Ineffective. Compassion fatigue.

Ever been there?

I have- I AM, actually. It’s foreign and Hell:

 I DON’T.LIKE.IT.

After spending the weekend with Soldiers, I was told a few things that really stuck with me.

The thing that suck with me was:

1. “You’re not very good at saying NO, are you?”

Uh- Yes, I am. I can say no. I can do whatever I WANT to do. I am empowered woman. (……Right?) Okay----alright. No---- I’m NOT so good at it. Saying no is not easy for me. Overcommitting myself has generally been “easy” for me. Or at least “normal” for me. Saying no isn’t natural for me. Don’t get me wrong here- I am capable say NO to things:  “No, I don’t want to choose a salad over a donut.” ---------TOO EASY, right?

But let’s be real here- I want to be able do it all. Whatever IT is- I “should” be able to handle it, I got it. Or at least, I THINK I can handle it all.  So, instead of saying- “I’m overbooked, or I need more time, or just no I can’t.” I have been a YES woman. Continuously overcommitting myself.  So anyway….The rest of this blog may or may not be:
“Confessions of a YES Woman: A Day in the Life of a passionate, yet burned out Social Worker.”

The second thing that stuck with me over the weekend:

2. “You are SO passionate”

YES. That part I do know about myself. I am told this all the time. I am very passionate. Everything I do I do it with all my heart and give everything I have. I think it shows to other people because I am very passionate about the work I do. Being passionate takes a lot of energy- emotional energy and sometimes physical energy. Passion is good. But, here’s the thing- passion can sometimes get me into trouble- because I can be a hot head. A passionate, stubborn, hot head. (I know…..for those of you that know me, are probably like: Wait, what….Laura?! A hot head? Yeah… right.)

 Being passionate burns A LOT of energy.  I’m not exactly sure if people tell me this as a compliment or not- but Hell, I’ll take it. Either way- sometimes at the end of the day, it’s EXHAUSTING. Don’t get me wrong, sometimes passion can be energizing. Truthfully, MOST of the time passion can be energizing. When you do what you love, it energizes you.  Put it this way- when you put your whole heart and soul into things and you don’t take CARE of yourSELF, that’s when passion can drain you. Eventually, when you constantly pour and pour into other people lives and you don’t pour into your own life- you are empty.

Because you’ll end up like this.

Have you ever felt like this? At work or even just at life?

The third thing that stuck with me over the weekend:

3. “You know, you can’t save everyone” & “You have a bleeding heart”

These were two entirely different statements, two different times, two different people- both directed at me. Let me start with “you have a bleeding heart.”

First, what the HELL does that even mean? Piss off, PLEASE! I’ll tell you what it means, it literally means, a dangerously SOFT heart--excessively sympathetic--giving in to emotions TOO quickly. Ok, first how about fuck off? I’m not soft. Or “sympathetic.” OR overly emotional. Don’t get confused. Yes, I have emotions, damn it. I feel things. In my line of work- if I didn’t FEEL things- THAT is when you should be concerned, okay? My “bleeding heart” was bless with a gift- a gift of compassion and servitude to help bless other people’s lives.

“You can’t save everyone” This, I know. But- hey, guess what, it’s REEEALLY hard to understand and internalize that. I am learning. I’m still going to try though, you know? I’m just working on the whole acceptance part.

4. “Jeep Grand Chirio”

I know, you’re probably thinking- WHAT?  Listen up, let me explain. This weekend, an Army Captain who is very supportive, has a ton of experience, deployments, and wisdom called me “Jeep Grand Chirio” after a comment I made. I said something like, “people probably just think of me as the bearer of bad news, or I am the one always responding to a crisis.”

He started off by telling me: “back in the day,” there was a point in the Army, when all the Soldiers drove HMMWVs, but the Chaplain still drove a Jeep. A Jeep Grand Cherokee. So when the Jeep Grand Cherokee would show up in their combat zone, they always knew it was the Chaplain.  As you can imagine- the Chaplain showing up in a combat zone, lets you know something happened.  It gives you that sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach because that something, usually isn’t good. “…..Oh no, what’s the Chaplain about to tell us?

I’ve always said the Chaplain’s job is the hardest in the Army. I don’t know how they do it. I really don’t. They are often the bearer of bad news. Sometimes the one to be avoided, because you know if the Chaplain shows up, some shit just went down.

 So…. turns out, I kind of have that same “vibe” with people. Some know that when I come around and I have a serious face- some shit is happening. “Chirio called, or Chirio interrupted a meeting, or Chirio is serious today…..something’s going down.
I shared this conversation with a good Sergeant of mine. I laughed it off- because I enjoy using humor as a coping mechanism. She didn’t laugh though. She said to me very seriously- “yeah, but think about the Chaplain ---- they are the first person people think of to go to for counsel, for advice, for comfort and for support.  YOU are that person for a lot of people. THAT is why people come to YOU. Don’t ever forget that”

I’m an Officer- I get it: Sometimes you need a good NCO to give you a reality check, slap in the face style.

SELF. CARE.

It’s not just a phrase.

A couple things I know for sure: You CANNOT pour into other lives, if you don’t pour into 

YOUR life first.

No matter HOW much to WANT to.

Self-care is not an option. It’s essential. Especially in this line of work. If you’re anything like me- Hell, you don’t have to be a Social Worker or work with people in crisis…but if you are caring for someone other than yourself- DON’T FORGET TO CARE FOR YOURSELF.  It’s not selfish to care for yourself, it’s essential. Anyhow- these are the things on my heart. I’m a pretty private person. I don’t like sharing my “shit” because I like to just deal with it, but today I felt compelled enough to share it. Because I’m not perfect either....no one is. We’re all human here.

Today- I booked my first counseling appointment. Like, where I’m actually the client, and not the counselor. That’s huge for me. It’s not a New Year resolution- it’s a life sustaining resolution- I am making promises to myself to take care of myself better- because when I do, I can take care of other people more effectively. Which is my true passion.

So- as weird as writing this whole blog was for me- spilling my guts out, I hope that even ONE person who reads this blog can take something from it. I know I did.

You DESERVE to be as nice to yourself as you are to other people. You’re a good friend to other people-be a good friend to yourself!

When you need help:

REACH OUT. 

You are only human.

What are you going to do today to help save your life?

-Laura Chirio, VRN VP

The Luxury of Time

The Luxury of Time
By Andrew Turner

This September, we plan to display the 660 White Crosses, to represent the number of veteran suicides that will take place during Suicide Awareness Month.  When we first did this event last year, it was incredibly impactful on us personally, as well as on many of our friends and community members.  We expect the impact will only grow in the second year. 

The statistic of 22 veteran suicides every day may seem like an abstract number, hard to comprehend. But, looking over a field of 660 White Crosses is a powerful visual to see just how many lives are being lost, and the incredible ripple effect each life has on our community as fellow veterans, family members, and concerned citizens. 

Last year our goal with the 660 White Crosses was to raise awareness of veteran suicide, and encourage people to understand the impact of even a single loss of life.  This year, our goal is to contribute something tangible to impact the mental health of veterans in a positive way, and we are asking more of ourselves and more of you as supporters of Veteran’s Refuge Network. 

When we started VRN, one of our goals was to partner and support other like-minded organizations that serve our veterans each day. This year as we display the 660 White Crosses, we are asking anyone and everyone to sponsor a cross for $22. With your help, we will get all 660 crosses sponsored and raise $14,520.00! The money we raise from the sponsored crosses will be donated to Stiggy’s Dogs, a fellow non-profit in Brighton, Michigan, who is making a difference and saving lives by partnering veterans with companion and service dogs.

Why is this important? A couple months ago, the VA announced it is restarting a 3-year study to determine if “veterans with post-traumatic stress can benefit from service dogs or emotional support dogs."  I’m of the opinion that they could save a lot of time and money by spending one day with Stiggy’s and a few of the veteran/service dog teams they’ve trained.  It wouldn’t take much to understand the positive impact the dogs have on the lives of the veterans they are teamed with.  The money we raise will help Stiggy’s continue to grow and help more veterans.

 

If it sounds like I’m a paid spokesman for Stiggy’s, that’s only half true.  They are one of best organizations we’ve come across since starting VRN, and I have also benefited personally from their program.  Jamie and I were blessed to have had our puppy soul-mate, Lola, for 11 ½ years before she passed in January.  Jen Petre, Stiggy’s founder, sent us a message not long after, with the thought that fostering a dog for them might be positive for us in the sense that it would help us in our grief for Lola, as well as help them be able to take in a great dog they would have otherwise had to pass on.  After talking about it, we decided we were comfortable with the idea of hearing puppy paws running around the house again, without feeling like we were replacing Lola, since we knew it was only temporary. About a week later, when Jen offered to let us to adopt “Sailor” and train him as a service dog for me and VRN, we couldn’t decide if we were the best foster parents because he fit right in and stayed, or the worst because we couldn’t give him up. 

Before agreeing to keep “Sailor”, I talked with Jen at length about my reservations if keeping him would prevent somebody else from being helped by such a good dog.  Over the past year I’ve tried to be as open as possible about my issues with mental health and the struggles I’ve had, and I’ve never tried to misrepresent myself.  I told Jen that I have never been diagnosed with PTSD, and I was hesitant to keep the dog at the expense of somebody might have needed him more than I did.  I have friends that have confided in me the struggle they go through with PTSD, and I pictured their faces when I told Jen I didn’t want to prevent somebody else from getting help. 

In the end, I agreed for two reasons.  First, Jen assured me that he didn’t have to be a service dog for me personally if I wasn’t comfortable with that.  He could be a service dog for VRN and fulfill his mission by helping us help the veterans that reach out to us.  And second, Jamie convinced me that it was time we accepted somebody else’s offer of help.  We had just recently been talking about the last year and how taxing it had been on us personally, and on more than one occasion I had talked to Jamie about feeling like I was in a rut.  

I’m certainly not making myself out to be a martyr or asking for any pat on the back, but the fact is, through starting VRN, we’ve exposed ourselves more than ever in the past year, and while Jamie, Laura and I have tried to dedicate our efforts to helping others, it’s often at the expense of looking out for ourselves.  So after some convincing, our service dog in-training had a new home and a new Army-themed name.  “Recon” was here to stay. 

Since we got Recon the second week of February, we have taken him to Stiggy’s once a week to work on his training.  He came to us very well trained as a former member of the Leader Dogs for the Blind program, and we’re constantly amazed at how smart he is.  After about 8 weeks, he passed his Canine Good Citizen test, earning his CGC patch and service dog vest complete with an, “In Training” tag on it. 

I know he pretty quickly had an impact on Jamie and me.  And, I can definitely recognize the difference he’s made for me personally.  He makes it hard for me to check out mentally, which is something I’m really good at, because I know he needs my attention; he needs to be fed, exercised, let out to use the bathroom, played with, and groomed.  Plus, he’s just got too much energy for me to lie around all day in a rut.   He also brings me joy.  I like to see him figuring things out in his training, and learning how to do the tasks we ask him to do.  I’ve never been overly anxious going out in crowds, but I definitely am not a fan.  I avoid certain places at certain times because I don’t want to deal with the crowds, and I have a finite amount of time that I can handle being in surrounded by people before I just have to leave.  I’m sure Jamie can give more than one example of us not making it to the register to pay because I hit my limit and had to put everything down and walk out of a store.  One minute things are fine and we’re laughing together looking at ugly Christmas sweaters, and the next minute I can’t get out of the store fast enough. 

Since we’ve been able to take Recon out in public, I don’t hit that wall quite as hard.  I’m still not comfortable going to IKEA, no matter the time of day, but when there is a crowd, I don’t feel as uneasy because I like seeing how he handles everything and he gives me something else to focus on.  And, we’re only in the beginning phases with him.  Soon he’ll be learning how to turn lights on, search the house, and other quality of life tasks that will help me in ways that counseling and medicine don’t. 

Eventually the VA’s study will run its course and they’ll figure out what many of us who have the privilege of working with Stiggy’s already know: that service dogs SAVE LIVES as well as increase the quality of life.  It will take millions of dollars and at least three more years for the government to figure this out.  In the meantime 22 veterans a day will continue to take their own life. 

We don’t have three years. We don't have millions of dollars. You know what else we don't have? The luxury of time to wait, while so many lives are on the line.  By supporting us and sponsoring a cross, you are helping us help Stiggy’s and the work they are doing to save veterans today, not three years from now.  

To sponsor a cross, you can donate through our PayPal account via the "donate" button on this blog, via the "donate" button on our Facebook page, or contact us directly if you'd like to mail a check. Thank you for your continued support of Veteran’s Refuge Network and your commitment to eliminating veteran suicide with us.  Together, we’re making a difference. 

It Makes a Difference to This One

It Makes a Difference to This One

By Laura Chirio

I’ve had many people ask me why I chose the profession I did. For a long time, I haven’t known exactly what to say in return.  Finally, I have come to the realization that my lack of witty response is not evidence of insecurity or incompetence.   "I always wondered why somebody doesn't do something about that. Then I realized I was somebody." - Lily Tomlin.  As for me, my decision to become a Social Worker was much less a choice, but rather a calling.   

Although I am not a suicide survivor myself, the effects of suicide have greatly impacted my life.  So, here I go, I’ll just say what’s on my heart. My heart is heavy. Tomorrow marks the second anniversary of the suicide of SGT Ben Lewis. Saturday is the second annual memorial for PFC Brian (Bear) Smith, after his suicide in 2013.  In June, I will join many others at the memorial for SGT Zack Potter, whom I have come to know, even after his passing. My uncle, MAJ Larry Chirio took his own life over ten years ago.  Suicide is devastating and seriously impacts entire families and communities. It’s a ripple effect so large that often even those even on the outside suffer damaging effects.  My heart is heavy because there are so many families who will never get their loved one back.

 This I can say for certain - statistics are misleading. It has been reported that 22 military veterans commit suicide every day. According to the US Department of Veterans Affairs Suicide Data Report, 2012; 147,763 suicides were reported from 21 states. That figure left out 29 states including those with high veteran populations like California and Texas.  I’ll leave that calculation up to you.

Have you ever felt so overwhelmed by something so big, you think there’s no way you can make a difference? Yeah, us too. Have you ever been told that you can’t make a difference? Yeah, us too. Sometimes I feel overwhelmed and I oftentimes take on more than I can handle and need to scale myself back. One of my favorite stories is the “starfish story.” On days when I feel overwhelmed, I think of this story. I think, even if I’ve helped just one - it’s made a difference to that one. But it’s never just one. It’s a ripple. It’s many. It’s a family. It’s a community.

When we founded Veteran’s Refuge Network, we decided that even if we only help just ONE person, everything we’ve worked for was worthwhile. Mother Teresa said,  “Never worry about numbers. Help one person at a time and always start with the person nearest you.” It’s true. Don’t get caught up in the mess of things and lose sight of what’s right in front of you. 

Help those around you when they need it and always do your best. Don’t be afraid to ask direct questions. Recognize warning signs. Recognize DANGER.

D – Depression

A – Alcohol and drugs

N – Negativity

G – Giving possessions away

E – Estrangement

R – Revenge

Be informed. Be a friend. Be a gatekeeper. Be the one. Because, even if you can only help one, it makes a difference to that one.

A Wife's Perspective

A Wife's Perspective

By Jamie Turner

On Friday March 14^th 2014, as we were minutes away from Veteran’s Refuge Network’s first TV interview EVER, I had a small panic-filled identity crisis. During the question and answer prep, the reporter was walking Andrew, Laura, and I through the order in which we’d be talking to her, and the key points each would discuss. When she got to me, she asked me what perspective do I bring to the table, and I panicked. I stood there looking at her, my mind blank. My neurotic brain began firing a million thoughts a second; I wasn’t a combat veteran like Andrew, I didn’t have the training or education like Laura, what DID I bring to the table?

I managed to ramble out an answer, about how I was a digital marketing major in U of M’s College of Business, so I would talk about the social media aspect and our business plan for the future. BORING, right? I stood in the background of the studio while Andrew led us off, talking with such strength and emotion about his deployment experience and our plans for Veteran’s Refuge Network. Laura was next, and despite being nervous and afraid that she would giggle through the whole interview – her words, not mine – she was incredible! She fired off her answers with such poise and confidence, my jaw dropped multiple times during her nine minutes. Then, it was my turn.

While I stood there observing the two of them speak, my mind and my heart were going back and forth as to what contributions I could make, not only for this interview, but for Veteran’s Refuge as a whole. I began to realize that as a military spouse, I do have a unique perspective, one that perhaps even Andrew and Laura couldn’t actually identify with. My voice is important, because of the three of us; I’m the only one who has walked this particular path. So, before the camera rolled, I asked our interviewer if instead of simply discussing our social media campaign and business plan, if I could talk about the spouses, families, and support systems that stay behind as their veterans serve. I spoke from the heart and before I knew it, our interview was over.

Someone told us a few months ago that if you have a servant’s heart, then serve. Why it took me a month to realize that those words applied to me as well as Andrew and Laura, I don’t know. As active service members of the Michigan Army National Guard, each of them puts on the uniform and serves. I’m realizing that even though my service isn’t as visible, it’s no less important. Few have walked in my shoes, and experienced the up-and-down emotional roller coaster that comes with having a spouse in the military. It’s not easy being the one left behind; trying to keep it all together while they’re gone, then trying to readjust when they’re home. Just when you’re comfortable again, it’s off to more training. And round and round it goes.

I’ve also lived through not only my husband’s deployment to a war zone, but through the difficult readjustment years that followed, from navigating the complicated VA system, to relationship issues, and simply learning to share my living space again. Nowhere in the pre-deployment packet do they tell you just how hard it would be to readjust to be husband and wife again after the coming-home excitement wears off. But, as spouses, we do it. One day at a time, one separation at a time. For me, that meant getting to know my husband all over again, and falling in love with the same but drastically different man that came home from war.

For spouses, emotions range from the highest of highs to the lowest of lows. From abject sadness when he’s gone, to immense pride when you see him in uniform. From to sweat-inducing, mind-numbing fear imagining what could go wrong while he’s away, to overwhelming relief when he’s finally home. Love, anger, hope, frustration, all these swirl around inside while we’re going through our days, often unnoticed by those around us. Family and friends can sympathize, but never truly understand how it feels.

As I stood there thinking of all of this, I realized that I serve too. For the past twelve years, it has been my honor to serve at my husband’s side while he serves our country. Does it make my service any less important? Not at all. Serving at his side has been an incredible honor, and holding it all together at home makes it so he can go out and do what he does best - be a soldier. So, I’ll walk this walk next to him, holding his hand when he needs me to, or simply standing quietly next to him when he doesn’t. I can give voice to the families who stay behind, because I’ve lived it. I live it every day.

War, PTSD, injuries, separations, suicides, and death don’t just affect the veterans; it affects the spouses, families, and those that love the veterans as well. Their service may be quieter and less obvious, but never forget they do just that – serve. So today, when you say a prayer for our veterans, say one for their families as well. They are often fighting battles no one knows about behind closed doors. Send a text, make a call, or check in on someone. Your simple act of caring could mean so much! Let’s lift them up today, so they can find the strength to continue serving alongside their veterans.

If you are a caregiver in need of support, there are a variety of options available to you. You can contact Veteran's Refuge Network, Give an Hour, or VA Caregiver Support. Just know you're not alone. We've been there. We are there. 

           

One Year Anniversary

One Year Anniversary

By Andrew Turner

January 17^th, 2014: “After being affected by the suicides of veterans close to us, the three of us, Laura, Jamie and Andrew, joined together and decided to quit saying, "Somebody should do something about this," and start saying, "We've got to do something about this." At a booth in that Panera we laid the foundation for that something. We decided that night that too many lives were at stake and our silence made us complicit. Today we are part of the solution to a national tragedy. Please join us in fighting back and saving the lives of our fellow veterans.”

This is how Veteran’s Refuge Network was born one year ago.  12 months later, it’s difficult to put into words what this journey has meant to the three of us, how it has impacted us individually, and how it has changed the trajectory of our lives.

PFC Brian Smith

SGT Ben Lewis

SGT Zack Potter

These are the names of the veterans we knew who took their own lives, and these three will forever be directly related to the founding of VRN.   

In the last year we’ve been confronted with an issue we knew almost nothing about.  Until it affected us directly, “veteran suicide” wasn’t something we thought about.  But now, not a day goes by when the statistic of “22 a day” isn’t on our minds.  Not a day goes by when the realities of living with PTSD isn’t on our minds.  Not a day goes by when the responsibility we bear to step in and support those struggling isn’t on our minds. 

Last week, we got together with the family of our friend, Sergeant Zack Potter, to honor his memory at the 1-year anniversary of his passing.  Zack is a huge part of why VRN is here today.  His family is a huge part of why VRN is here today.  Surrounded by his family and friends, I had to take a breath and look at how far we’ve come in the last year.  About 20 people representing at least five different veteran support organizations came together in the greenhouse at the Eisenhower Center’s Manchester Campus – a place that was very special to Zack. A few in the group never met Zack, but they knew of him, and we were all impacted in some way by Zack’s life.  Throughout the year we have talked a lot about the ripple effect that veteran suicide has within our community.  Standing in the greenhouse, that ripple effect was crystal clear.  Strangers a year earlier, Zack’s life, and his death, had brought us all together.

           

In a year of tremendous change and growth for us, a few things stand out that I’d like to share:

First, a single comment that stood out to me. I doubt the person who made the comment will remember, but the imagery of it left a profound impact on me and how I see my mission at VRN.  When talking about having a friend struggle and seeing them fight their way through the dark, he said, “I want to be a flashlight in that dark for them.”  In my own experience, and talking with others, it’s common to describe the experience of being in the middle of the struggle as being in that dark place.  It’s a place you know you don’t belong, but can’t find your way out of.  I want to be a flashlight in that dark for them.

Second, the relationships we’ve formed. From the beginning, we knew we were not in a position to provide primary care and service for people battling PTSD when they came to us for help.  For us, it has always been important for them to know we are there for them though, and for us to build strong relationships with other organizations that can provide those services, so when someone reaches out to us, we can trust that the organization we send them to is going to take good care of them.  This is an area we have done well at and are proud of.  Developing personal relationships with people in organizations such as Give an Hour, Stiggy’s Dogs, Michigan Operation Freedom Outdoors, and many others, allows us to know when we refer a veteran to one of these places, they are going to be treated with respect and receive quality care.  Growing these relationships with like-minded people and organizations has been one of the most rewarding parts of the last year, and we have met a lot of amazing people who have become our friends, and had a positive impact on us as individuals and on VRN. 

           

Third, our PTSD awareness project during the month of June. For PTSD Awareness Month, we had an idea to engage our community and bring awareness to the tragedy of 22 veteran suicides every day.  Jamie had the idea to plant 22 crosses every day of the month to represent those veterans lost to suicide.  Our idea half-formed, we went to Home Depot, bought $300 worth of lumber, paint, and screws and cleared out the garage to begin painting and building the crosses.  When we started all the work, we didn’t even have a place to set them up.  After securing a place the day before we planned to start the project, we were unexpectedly forced to move locations three days into the project.  But due to the help and generosity of so many of you, we found a new place and went about the task of placing 22 crosses in the ground every day. 

It was an overwhelming project that we could not have accomplished alone.  Not only did it require more time than we had to give, it was very taxing emotionally and having you there with us gave us strength.  With the help of many of you, we put in nearly 150 man-hours of work on the project by the time it was finished.  The project received interest from media, politicians, friends and family, strangers driving by, and people from all over the area.  On June 30^th, we held a community gathering to culminate the project, and joined together to appreciate and honor the lost lives we were representing.  More than 125 people joined us that night in what became a very emotional event.  Together we placed those last 22 crosses into the ground and stood back in awe of the beauty and the horror of 660 White Crosses covering a field close to the size of a football field. 

Throughout the year we’ve had a number of other opportunities to talk to people, groups, and organizations about VRN, PTSD, veteran mental health, and veteran suicide.  We’ve grown our network and become a respected part of the veteran community in our area.  In mid-October we received our non-profit status approval from the IRS, designating us a 501(c)3 charitable organization, and making us too legit to quit.  We’ve also started monthly get-togethers for our supporters, to get to know one another, build a community, and be part of something great. 

But just one short year in, and the work is still only beginning.  We are excited about the direction our organization is heading.  We are excited about the friends and connections we are continuing to make as a result of VRN.  But, we are most excited about helping veterans in need.

In the next year we will continue in our commitment to raise awareness about veteran suicide and PTSD, to eliminate the stigma associated with mental health issues among veterans, and to help veterans access the resources available to get them the help they need.  We are also looking forward to focusing on our long-term vision of funding and building a Veteran’s Refuge Center to provide a variety of therapies for veterans battling PTSD and other mental health issues.

Shortly after Zack took his own life, I told his dad I wish I would have been able to be a refuge for him that night.  He could have stayed on my couch for the night just to get him away from the things that were dragging him down and help him clear his mind.  Of course, as his dad pointed out, Zack’s problems would still have been there the next morning.  His PTSD would still have been very real.  His struggles would not have disappeared.  And while I understood, I also couldn’t help but think about the fresh opportunity that comes with the each new day.  We never know what tomorrow holds, and just maybe the call he was waiting for would come, or that flashlight would click on to help see him through the darkness. 

In truth, Zack fought as long as possible.  He did everything he could to get help and when that help didn’t come, he found peace the only way he could.  This is why I believe the work we have in front of us is so important.  We have a responsibility to all of the others struggling like Zack.  We have a responsibility to reach them, to be a refuge for them, to make sure they don’t slip through the cracks. 

           

Laura, Jamie, and I can’t do it alone.  We couldn’t have made it this far alone.  Much of the good work we are able to do is a credit to all of you who believe in us, encourage us, and sacrifice alongside us because you share our belief that our veterans are worth saving.  It’s not going to be easy; it’s going to take each of us doing our part and being the one to make a difference. But, change will come. 

Thank you for continuing to stand with us, offering your support, and being a flashlight in the dark for those who have given so much. 

Too Legit to Quit

Too Legit to Quit

By Jamie Turner

In January of this year, Veteran's Refuge Network started as a crazy idea. Today, we are excited to announce that after only ONE paperwork submission and FOUR short months, the IRS has approved our 501c(3) status and we are officially a non-profit! The short approval time took us off guard, we'd heard stories of multiple attempts, months of waiting, and repeated frustrations. For our approval to only take four months is an awesome surprise, and to say we're excited is an understatement. 

We just wanted to take a minute express our gratitude to everyone for sharing our posts, helping us raise awareness for PTSD and the 22 veterans that commit suicide each day, and continuing to support us each and every day. Changing the statistic is not something the three of us can do alone, we fully recognize it's going to take a network of people willing to reach out a hand to someone who may be struggling. And, to those of you who have jumped right in to join us in this fight, we cannot say thank you enough. 

Now that we're too legit to quit, we know the real work begins as we work toward making our idea of a veteran treatment center a reality. 

Yes, it's going to take a lot of work. 
Yes, it's going to be discouraging at times. 
Yes, it's worth the fight. 

We feel so blessed, humbled, and excited for what the future holds. Please continue to partner with us as we make progress, reach out to those you know may be going through a rough time, and be the one to make a difference for someone today.

I Am The One

I Am The One

By Andrew Turner

On June 30^th, 2014, we gathered together; we stood in awe, in horror, in silence as we looked at 660 crosses in a field representing the incredible loss of veteran suicide in a single month.  We saw the statistic in a new light.  We shared the tragedy with our community and tried to help people understand the epidemic that our veteran population is facing.  We also challenged each other to make a change.  We talked about the impact saving one life could have, the ripple it would create, and the tidal wave that would come with reducing 22 veteran suicides a day to 21 a day.  But most importantly we talked about where the change will come from and who is responsible for creating that change.  I am the one responsible for creating the change.  You are the one responsible for creating the change. 

With September being National Suicide Prevention Month, we have another opportunity to bring attention and awareness to the 22 veteran suicides daily and continue a discussion on what we can do to help change that number.  This month we will continue to bring you information on ways to fight PTSD and other mental health issues impacting veterans.  We’ll list resources that veterans can use to get the help they need in order to be healthy.  And, we’ll share our own stories of how we are the ones making a difference for veterans, and we’ll ask you to share with us how you are the one making a difference for those around you.

We want you to think about how you would finish the statement, “I am the one…”, and share your answer with us.  Think about it in terms of veteran suicide prevention.  Maybe you are the one who has the Veteran Crisis Line phone number stored in your phone so it’s there when you need it, or when your friend needs it.  Maybe you are the one who calls and writes your representative to encourage them to support legislation that increases mental health services for veterans.  Maybe you are the one who lost a battle buddy, and now you make a conscious effort to call and text your surviving friends to make sure they are doing ok, and to let them know you have their back if they need it.  Or, maybe you are the one who has struggled with thoughts of suicide, but has fought back from the brink. We all have a story to tell.

I know how I finish the statement.  Jamie and Laura both know how they finish it.  And starting September 1^st 2014, we’ll be sharing ours with you and hoping you do the same with us. 

Here’s how you can participate: We’re going to share short video clips of us finishing the statement while holding a sign that reads, “I am the one…” Simply hold up your sign, share your statement, and then send us the link. We’ll post one each day during the month of September. If you’re still not sure you understand what we’re looking for, just follow our lead.  Andrew, Jamie, and Laura will have the first three days of the month covered.

This is just one way we can continue to take ownership of the problem and embrace our responsibility for being the change we wish to see.  I challenge you to accept the responsibility of being the change.  I challenge you to be the one that helps reduce the 22 a day.  I challenge you to find your ending to the statement, “I am the one…”, and share it with us. 

#BeTheOne  #IAmTheOne #22aDay  #21>22

#BeTheOne

#BeTheOne

by Andrew Turner

Just over a month ago we began an awareness campaign to show the 22 lives that are lost to suicide each day in our veteran community.  Every day the display grew.  Every day the impact grew.  And on June 30^th, we gathered as a community to witness the 660 crosses in the ground, show respect for the lives they represented, and discuss how we could make a change to this tragic statistic.  Two days ago we finally took the project down and now it’s difficult to put into words what the last month has meant to us, being there every day, pounding 22 crosses into the ground every day.  There is a definite sense of pride for what we accomplished, for the way we were able to share our vision with so many others, and for the way our community responded with support and interest.  There is also a feeling of sadness seeing the empty field after spending so much time there.  We came to appreciate our time among the crosses and despite the tragedy it represented, we found a calmness and peace there that we are now missing.  Leaving town for the 4^th of July weekend, Jamie commented that it would be the first day in over a month that we had not been there.  I missed it that first day.  It seemed that we had put so much of ourselves into that project that not being there was strange.  But I’m also glad it’s over.

I’m glad I don’t have to put another 22 crosses into the ground today.  I’m glad our project is complete, but it’s only complete because of the limit we placed on it.  We could have been back on July 1^st with another 22 crosses.  And we could have been back July 2^nd, and 3^rd, and 4^th…and as many other days as we wanted, as long as this tragedy continues.  So the display serves its purpose of letting people know about this issue.  It allows people to put a visual to a statistic.  But unless it inspires us to make a change, then what purpose does it serve?  The major theme that continued to be discussed at the display was the ripple effect that each suicide has.  It was the ripple effect of three that brought us all together on June 30^th, over 130 people, most who didn't know each other, yet were touched by the ripples of Brian, Ben, and Zack’s deaths. 

We’re going to do this project again.  The response it received was greater than we could have imagined and there’s no telling the impact it can have as we share it in other communities.  The more people it touches, the more opportunity we have to draw them to our cause and encourage them to stand with us to support these struggling veterans.  My hope is that when we do this again (and soon), that we don’t have to put 22 crosses in every day.  That instead we can put in 21 crosses, or 20 crosses, or one day have no need for a single cross at all.  But that change will only come because of the effort we are willing to put in to bring it about. We cannot simply look at all those crosses and hope that the VA is going to come to our rescue, or some new government program will be what makes a difference.  Too many of our brothers and sisters are falling through the cracks and it’s happening every single day.  If we truly want to see a change, we need to take responsibility for that change.  If we truly think these lives are worth saving, we need to take responsibility for that change.  Change will come because we are willing to put in the effort to create it. 

So what does that look like?  How does, “What can I do to help?” turn into, “This is what I am doing to help…”?  You don’t need to have all the answers to a veteran’s problems to help them.  You just need to let them know that you care enough to listen to them when they need to talk.  You just need to let them know that you care enough to call them, or shoot them a text, or reach out to them on Facebook to see how they are doing and let them know you are thinking about them.  You just need to be there for them when they are struggling.  None of us can force a veteran to reach out for help with PTSD or other mental health issues.  But we can be there to support them when they are ready.  We can make sure we are a positive part of their life that lifts them up when they are down.  None of that is difficult or requires much of us.  Yet it can make a real impact on someone looking for a reason to continue living.  Each of us can be the one who makes a change and saves a life.  Each of us can be the one who reaches out a hand to those who are slipping through the cracks.  Together we can make a change in the statistic that says 22 veterans will commit suicide tomorrow.  But it won’t happen by accident.  It will happen because people like you and I are willing to stand in the gap and be the change.  So what have you done to make a difference for somebody today?  What are you willing to do to make a difference for somebody tomorrow?  How far are you willing to go to be the one who changes 22 a day to 21?

660 White Crosses

660 White Crosses

By Jamie Turner

            A few years ago, one of my favorite college professors showed us a documentary called “Paper Clips”, about a group of middle school kids in Tennessee who were learning about the Holocaust and the 6 million lives that were lost during that time. Hearing the number 6 million was one thing, but the students were having difficulty grasping the enormity of that number and wanted to know what it looked like. They embarked on a project where they set out to collect 6 million paper clips in order to visualize just how many people that actually was. As news of their project got out, paper clips began arriving from all over the world. To date, the school has received over 30 million paper clips, numerous mementos from Holocaust survivors and their families, and even an actual German rail car that had been used to transport people to the concentration camps. Years later, this movie periodically comes to my mind, as it did this past week once again.

            Last weekend Veteran’s Refuge had a full schedule of volunteering, manual labor, a 5k race, a business plan to write, a competition to enter, budgets to plan, and more. In the busyness of the weekend, it was easy to simply work through Memorial Day as just a day to get things done; conscious of what it meant, but not really fully grasping the solemnity of the day. As we sat here on the couch, me working on one project, Andrew typing away at another, both of our phones received a text message. What I read changed my day, it changed my week, and it changed my month.

            The message was from the father of our friend Zack, who lost his battle with PTSD this past January. The attached photo showed Zack’s dad with his arm lovingly surrounding a white headstone, and a message that simply said, “One of the bravest most honorable people I've ever known. My hero, my son. I miss you Zboy!” Even now, I can’t read it or think of his words without tearing up. This is what Memorial Day is all about. Remembering those we’ve lost in the heat of battle, and those we’ve lost since they’ve come home, after fighting PTSD for years.

            The text and the beautiful words stayed with me the rest of the afternoon. An idea was forming in my brain, but I kept telling myself it was too crazy, and there wasn't enough time to plan it out. I kept thinking of the statistic of 22 veterans who commit suicide each day. 22. How many is 22, really? We easily spend $22 on take-out and don’t even bat an eye. What does 22 look like? I thought of Paper Clips, and what did 6 million look like? And, I thought of June. I’ve been planning out our social media campaign, and have had on my calendar for weeks that June is PTSD awareness month. There’s 30 days in June. There’s 22 veteran suicides a day. What does that look like? What does 660 look like?

            By 5:00pm, I still hadn’t said anything to Andrew. We were driving home from our favorite Mexican restaurant when I finally decided to just test the waters and see what he thought. I began with, “So, I’ve been thinking about something crazyyyyy…” Gotta love my husband, he didn’t even bat an eye. Then, I told him my idea. I said I wanted to show what 22 a day looked like, every day during the month of June. I wasn’t sure how it could be done, or if it could even be accomplished in such a short time frame. Should it be flags? Should it be boots? How could we get it done? My brain was spinning a million miles an hour. Andrew listened to my jumble of thoughts, was immediately on board, and drove the truck straight to Home Depot. One quick phone call to Laura, and she signed on to the crazy train too.

            So, for the past week, Andrew, Laura, and I along with family and friends have been working feverishly to paint, cut, and assemble 660 white crosses for our art project. We’ve called councilmen, city managers, and people who might know a guy, in order to locate a piece of visible property we could use for the month of June. And, starting on Monday, June 2^nd, our goal is to display 22 white crosses each day, in order to visually show our country’s loss. We have one week’s worth fully assembled in our basement, ready to go. It’s so many. And it’s only a quarter of how many we actually need. I hate that we need even one.

            As we’re working toward building our Veteran’s Refuge, we’re realizing more and more that it’s not just me, Andrew, and Laura. Veteran’s Refuge is all of us together. One of you might be able to help a veteran who is struggling; just by being there for them, sending a text, or connecting them with someone who can help. We recognize we cannot do it alone; in order to succeed, it’s got to be about building a community of support, a network of all of us together, so if we can’t reach one, someone else will be there who can.

            So, this is our big plan. We invite you to come out and see the crosses each day, at 6400 Textile Rd., in Ypsilanti, Michigan. We plan to invite everyone on June 30^th for when we put in the last 22 of the month. Come and see what 660 looks like. One changed me. Three were the catalyst for the forming of Veteran’s Refuge. I guarantee 660 will change your life. This is not about a political statement, it’s not about despair and negativity, and in fact it’s the opposite. It’s about bringing awareness and hope, strength and encouragement. It’s about removing the stigma and showing that losing even one is one too many. On June 30^th, we’ll look out on a field of 660 white crosses and know that by doing this, by putting ourselves out there publicly to succeed or fail, we’re making a difference. If we can reach just one, then it’s so worth the risk. 

Stories Series Episode #4: The Greatest Honor

Meghan Stewart

20, May 2014

As a teenager, I felt ridiculed, judged even, when I told people my parents were in the military. After September 11, 2001; people looked to me for advice, for support, for help. My parents met while stationed at Fort Monmouth, NJ. After returning home from Germany, after I was born, my dad switched from soldier to stay-at-home father while mom went back into the service. Two years and another kid later, they switched roles permanently.

We moved from state to state, post to post, concrete walled house to concrete walled house. This went on until we moved to Michigan when my dad made the move from Active Duty Army, to Michigan National Guard recruiter. In Michigan, there is not a big military presence. September 11, 2001; I remember being herded into a dark room with fifty other 8^th graders. Teachers were quiet, trying desperately to hide the fear, the concern they felt while we all watched the news. What always stands out to me about that day was my peers’ reactions to what was going on. I didn’t really know what the Twin Towers were, or why it was so important that they were targeted, but I knew it was significant. Every one of my fellow students knew something was wrong and I was the one they asked about it. “What’s going on, Meghan?” They knew my dad was military. And for some reason, I was the new expert about terrorism for the 8^th grade class of Linden Middle School.  By 10am, my mom called my sister and I out of school and brought us home. The three of us waited impatiently for word from my father. We knew the dormant lifestyle we had become accustomed to was endangered now. It wasn’t until 2004 that the other shoe dropped and my dad was deployed to Iraq.

I used to hate the military. Both parents deployed to war, I felt like my family was cursed. It wasn’t until my dad returned and I met the men that served side by side with him for 14 months. I realized then, I am blessed. I was terrified that I would lose a family member and ended up gaining sixty more. Those men and their families became my family. That’s what happens in the military. If you are serving, the men or women who stand side by side with you, they become your blood, closer ties and relationships than with your actual blood relatives. I was lucky to get my dad back. Other families were not. Ten years after their deployment, the men of my dad’s platoon still have stronger bonds than anything you could imagine. They’ve all gone their separate ways. Some out of the military, some spread out to new units. But one thing will always keep them in contact. Their service together. The 14 months they spent together will ensure that our families will always be one. The lesson I’ve learned above all else: the military is a blessing. It may be hard to see at first, but it truly is the greatest honor, for the person in the military and their families.