"For Women Who Live With Veterans"

I'M NOT SURE WHAT'S THE HARDEST...
IS IT THE ANGRY RAGE AND THE SCREAMING?
IS IT THE COLD, STONEY SILENCE?
IS IT THE DREADED NIGHT-TIME DREAMING?
IS IT NOT KNOWING WHAT TO SAY
OR WHAT YOU WANT ME TO DO
SO YOU'LL BELIEVE I REALLY CARE...
I JUST WANT TO HELP YOU.
 
THE KIDS CAN'T UNDERSTAND YOUR ANGER
AT THE THINGS THAT THEY SAY AND DO...
"WHO'S DAD SO MAD AT?
IS IT ME? IS IT YOU?"
THERE'S THE UNSPOKEN LACK OF TRUST
AND LITTLE OR NO EMOTIONAL COMMUNICATION;
IT'S LIKE PART OF YOU IS GONE-
GONE ON A PERMANENT VACATION.
 
THEN THERE'S THE DOUBLE-MESSAGE SIGNAL
THAT'S SO HARD TO UNDERSTAND-
"GO AWAY - I WON'T TALK
BUT COME SIT BY ME - HOLD MY HAND".
AND THAT COLD ANGRY SILENCE
THAT IS ALWAYS THERE-
THAT'S CALLED EMOTIONAL NUMBING-
IT'S NOT REALLY "I DON'T CARE".
 
THERE'S ANOTHER WOMAN BETWEEN US
IN OUR BED EVERY NIGHT.
HER NAME IS VIETNAM-
AN OPPONENT HARD TO FIGHT.
I KNOW NOW I'M NOT ALONE-
IT'S THE ACCEPTED WAY OF LIFE
FOR ALL OF US WHO LOVE VETS-
WHO ARE VIETNAM WIVES.
 
SOME DECIDE THAT THEY'VE HAD IT...
"SHE" CAN HAVE HIM - AND THEY FLEE;
BUT IF "SHE" WANTS HIM, I'M STUBBORN-
PTSD MUST FIGHT ME.
 
I WANT HIM BACK, BUT I WANT HIM WHOLE-
HE'S A PART OF MY HEART,
HE'S A PART OF MY SOUL,
AND FOR BETTER OR WORSE, I WON'T GO AWAY;
HE CAN TRUST ME-
I LOVE HIM-
I'M GOING TO STAY!

DEBBI MC CALLOPS

THE FOLLOWING POEM WAS WRITTEN BY WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE GOING BACK TO THE 16TH CENTURY. IT'S HARD TO THINK OF PTSD GOING BACK SO FAR AND WE OF THE VIETNAM ERA ARE JUST RECENTLY (ABOUT THE PAST 12 YEARS) LEARNING ABOUT IT.

THE POEM WAS BROUGHT TO OUR GROUP AND WE STARTED TO INTERPERT THE MEANING. THE OTHERS WERE READING EACH LINE, THEN GIVING THEIR THOUGHTS OF WHAT IT MEANT TO THEM. I WAS WRITING THEIR THOUGHTS AS FAST AS I COULD. I PUT EVERYTHING TOGETHER, THIS IS THE WAY THE POEM READS FOR US.

- Marie

---

O, MY GOOD LORD, WHY ARE YOU THUS ALONE?
MY HUSBAND, WHY DO YOU ISOLATE YOURSELF?

FOR WHAT OFFENCE HAVE I THIS FORTNIGHT BEEN
WHAT HAVE I DONE WHY DO YOU DENY ME OF YOU?

A BANISH'D WOMAN FROM MY HARRY'S BED?
WHY ARE YOU SO WITHDRAWN?

TELL ME, SWEET LORD, WHAT IS'T THAT TAKES FROM THEE
WHY THE NUMBING?

THY STOMACH, PLEASURE, AND THY GOLDEN SLEEP?
WHY DO YOU HAVE NO PLEASURE, WHY DON'T YOU SLEEP PEACEFULLY?

WHY DOST THOU BEND THINE EYES UPON THE EARTH.
WHY DO YOU STARE IN A TRANCE LIKE WAY, TILL A FLASHBACK INTERUPTS YOUR THOUGHTS?

AND START SO OFTEN WHEN THOU SIT'ST ALONE?
PUTTING YOU IN ANOTHER PLACE, WHERE I AM NOT ALLOWED.

WHY HAS THOU LOST THE FRESH BLOOD IN THY CHEEKS?
WHY DO YOU LOOK SO EMOTIONLESS?

AND GIVEN MY TREASURES AND MY RIGHTS OF THEE
I TRY TO BE THERE WHEN YOU NEED ME, YET YOU STILL ARE SO DEPRESSED

TO THICK-EYED MUSING AND CURSED MELANCHOLY?
AND YOU CONTINUE TO MENTALLY PUSH ME AWAY.

IN THY FAINT SLUMBERS I BY THEE HAVE WATCH'D.
I WATCH AS YOU SLEEP RESTLESSLY.

AND HEARD THEE MURMUR TALES OF IRON WARS:
AND HEAR YOU TALKING IN YOUR SLEEP:

SPEAK TERMS OF MANAGE TO THY BOUNDING STEED:
YOU TALK ABOUT THE WAR:

CRY COURAGE! TO THE FIELD! AND THOU HAST TALK'D
OF SALLIES AND RETIRES, OF TRENCHES, TENTS.
OF PALISADOES, FRONTIERS, PARAPETS.
OF BASILISKS. OF CANNON, CULVERIN.
OF PRISONERS RANSOM, AND OF SOLDIERS SLAIN.
YOU SPEAK OF COURAGE, BUT YOUR COURAGE IS OF LEARNING TO BE AFRAID TO LOVE. . . IN CASE YOU LOSE ANOTHER BUDDY
YOU REMEMBER BATTLE NAMES, RIVERS, HOT LZ'S, FOX HOLES, BUNKERS,TENTS, THE ENEMY...
WITH THEIR LOOKS OF EVIL, M 16'S, MORTARS, THE LOSS OF POW-MIA'S,
AND THOSE NOT YET RETURNED, AND DEATH OF THOSE AROUND YOU.

AND ALL THE CURRENTS OF A HEADY FIGHT.
FEAR, PANIC, HYPERVIGILANCE

THY SPIRIT WITHIN THEE HATH BEEN SO AT WAR
SO INGRAINED DURING THE WAR ... THE MEMORIES

AND THUS HATH SO BESTIR'D THEE IN THY SLEEP.
YES THE MEMORIES, THEY STAY WHETHER YOU ARE AWAKE OR ASLEEP.

THAT BEADS OF SWEAT HAVE STOOD UPON THY BROW.
LIKE BUBBLES IN A LATE-DISTURBED STREAM:
AND IN THY FACE STRANGE MOTIONS HAVE APPEAR'D.
SUCH AS WE SEE WHEN MEN RESTRAIN THEIR BREATH.
YOU FEEL THE COLD SWEAT AS THE NIGHTMARE CONTINUES ... THE LOOK ON YOUR FACE TELLS ME YOU ARE BACK AT WAR, AS I HEAR THE HEAVY UNCONTROLLED BREATHING.

ON SOME GREAT SUDDEN HEST. O, WHAT PORTENTS ARE THESE?
WHAT IS HAPPENING... WILL YOU EVER COME HOME ... WHAT DOES ALL THIS MEAN 20-25 YEARS LATER... WHY DOES IT ALL STILL BOTHER YOU?
WILL I EVER UNDERSTAND!

SOME HEAVY BUSINESS HATH MY LORD IN HAND
AND I MUST KNOW IT: ELSE HE LOVES ME NOT.
AND IF YOU CANNOT TALK TO ME AND HELP ME UNDERSTAND ... WE NEED TO UNDERSTAND EACH OTHER ... I WANT TO HELP YOU THROUGH THIS HELL, CALLED PTSD...IF NOT, WHAT WILL BECOME OF US? WILL WE LOVE OR WILL WE PART? CAN I LOVE YOU FOR WHO YOU ARE ... AND BECAUSE LOVE IS SO DIFFICULT FOR YOU - CAN YOU LOVE ME FOR WHO I AM ... YOUR WIFE...NOT THE ENEMY!