4. Grief - The Pain At The Core Of The Veteran's Heart

In this talk, we explore the deep grief and loss that lives beneath the anger and pain that so many Veterans experiences. Through reading "The Letter" you will be encouraged to form your own "letter" that speaks to the heart of your experience of grief and loss and by so doing create a doorway for others to both understand and touch the emotion that lives at the deepest part of who you are. This talk offers an opportunity for profound healing and connection both within yourself and to others.

Transcript

Hi there,

My name is Barry Zwaristine and you are listening to the Post-Military Transitioning Challenges talks.

I am a combat veteran,

Psychologist and author with over 20 years of sitting with veterans and current serving.

The PMTC talks can support you to achieve a successful navigation into civilian territory.

The core mission of my talks is that no veteran should ever have to come home to die.

Hi to all of you that have joined me today for this talk.

I really want to thank you for being here,

Thank you for your presence and you know this talk is something that really still continues to touch me deeply.

And as I've often said,

The 20 years of working and sitting with these extraordinary human beings,

Veterans and current serving,

I've heard people share their stories,

I've heard people share their grief,

Their anger,

Their trauma,

Their resentment,

Their irritability,

Their struggles to adapt,

Their loss of sense of who they are,

Belonging and value.

But there's been always one consistent thread that has trailed the stories over so many years and that one is grief.

You know I think as veterans it's very easy to be angry and to be irritable.

But I think the hardest thing that we struggle with is allowing ourselves to be present to our grief,

To the deep sadness,

The pain,

The loss,

Whatever we've witnessed and experienced during the military and post-military.

It's a grief that's almost etched into our bones.

And you know personally I've seen myself how I'm certainly not out of that territory.

There have been many times when you know my wife and I have been watching a movie and she'll look at me and go,

You okay?

And I'll go,

Yep,

I'm fine.

And she'll go,

No,

I can see you're not fine.

And I go,

I'm fine,

There's no problem here at all.

And you know standing back from myself I can witness this huge challenge and just opening the heart.

And I think what this is about often is that there's a real fear that in touching our grief we're not going to be able to step out of it.

We're going to just be dropped into the deep end.

Now today I want to just explore that from a number of angles.

I'm just going to be working quite spontaneously and seeing what comes up.

And it'd be great to get your feedback on this one.

But I first wanted to start by reading a poem I wrote many years ago and I call it How Do I.

And the poem came about by trying to touch the space that as veterans or combat veterans,

Whatever you were there or whoever you may be,

That we all seem to carry deep within us.

Okay,

So let's go for a term.

It's called How Do I.

How do I make my peace with the killing?

How do I find peace from the nightmares that haunt my sleep and my dreams?

How do I forget the lifeless eyes of the child or my brother lying still and bleeding in the grass?

How do I silence the sounds of screaming and pain that still haunt me?

How do I talk of the fear that continues to this day?

How do I switch off the hyper vigilance that exhausts me?

How do I find a moment of peace away from the war that still rages in my brain?

How do I numb the pain that has closed my heart to all that I love?

How do I awaken my heart from the numbness that has stilled my feelings?

How do I make you understand the grief,

The pain,

The loss,

The fear and the rage?

How do I ask for help when there are no words to speak?

How do I ask for the help I need when it is the last thing that I want?

How do I ask for forgiveness for the pain I have brought into your life?

How do I undo the damage that my rage has caused?

How do I break down the walls that I have built around me to protect me from the world and others?

How do I break down the walls that I have built to protect others from the nightmares and rage that live within me?

How do I find hope in the moments I wish to embrace death?

How do I find life in my memories of death?

How do I let go of the ghosts that live beside and within me every minute of my day and night?

How do I ask you to hold me when my heart is bleeding with pain?

How do I find my home in this place beyond the war?

How do I no longer need to drink the pain away?

How do I tell my story without the fear of seeing the horror in your eyes?

How do I?

How do I?

You know this poem,

It doesn't matter how many times I have read it,

It still leaves me with goosebumps.

For me it was that moment when somehow I seemed to encapsulate the core essence of what so many veterans carry.

And in many ways I hope it gives a context of understanding to the partners and friends and families of veterans why they do struggle to share their stories even with the counsellors they see.

You know many veterans have said to me,

In fact only one said recently,

There are stories I want to talk about but I'm petrified,

I'm deeply scared that when I share the horrors of what I've seen or what I've felt or what I've done that I will see that look of horror in their eyes.

And whether it's rational or not,

The fact is it's a very real feeling.

So this ability to heal and touch our grief and the impact of suffering on our souls is certainly not an easy one.

And as much as veterans have often said,

Well my partner just says the war was 15,

20,

30 or 40 years ago and you should be beyond it,

It's not that easy.

It's not that easy.

As I've said that these are lines of pain and loss and grief that are almost etched into our souls or the marrow of our bones.

Now you know I think our greatest opportunity to extend and become more than who we currently can,

Who we currently are,

Can really be found in the space between our comfort zone and the intolerable.

And I've often said that to really create change we have to be able to define where we can move,

Where there's just enough discomfort to learn to become comfortable with so that we can continue to grow and create change.

You know without the willingness to stretch into challenge and embrace this invitation we will lose the opportunity to heal,

To love,

To create change and to be inspired.

I believe that these invitations will be delivered to us from many sources within our relationships,

Our work,

Physical challenges,

Loss,

The burdens we carry,

Illness,

Trauma,

Children,

Aging,

Etc.

In the discomfort of challenge and at times the pain of these journeys we have the capacity to rise beyond and through our perceived limitations and fixed mindsets.

We do.

We have an incredible ability to create change.

In these fires we are forged and formed into what I call layers of resilience.

It's in these moments we can be called to learn and find compassion for ourselves as well as others.

We form our core as we stretch through the wall of fear and resistance.

At this edge we truly face ourselves in our battle with ourselves.

I believe that it is here that we have the opportunity to reclaim our willingness to tolerate difference in conflict,

Our capacity to love unconditionally and by that I mean others and ourselves.

There is however the complex challenge of assessing where the uncomfortable zone of growth can become our prison.

There will be moments where we do not have to tolerate discomfort but where we simply need to walk away and this could be in a relationship or a partnership or a friendship.

There are no set rules.

It's more a felt sense grown from the forming and the reforming of who we are as we change,

Grow stronger and as we heal.

My goal a long time ago was with running.

I used to constantly find ways to challenge my limits.

A run where I always was comfortable was not a run.

At the limits of the edge of myself I really used to discover parts of myself that seemed to kick up.

I always used to put it this way.

When I was running up a hill I would talk to a number of ancestors.

If I was running in extreme heat or one very steep hill I would call that a ten hill ancestor.

I always decided that I was not going to be defined by my chronology.

It doesn't matter whether you're a twenty year old veteran or whether a Vietnam veteran and you're moving into your sixties or seventies.

Apart from the Russian roulette of life I do firmly believe that we have the opportunity to make what we believe to be the impossible,

We can make it possible till we take our last breath.

On that note I thought what I'd do is because a lot of this has been about the challenges veterans and current serving and first responders have in sharing their stories,

In risking themselves into opening their hearts,

Many,

Many years ago I wrote a letter on behalf of the veteran or the current serving or whoever.

The letter was something that they could give to their partners to read and that this would help bridge the gap between what they felt and what could not be spoken.

You know you've got to remember as well that not only do veterans struggle to share these deeper more painful parts of themselves with families or friends,

Even with their counselors,

But they will also struggle to share it with other veterans.

There are things that veterans will not even speak about to their own tribe.

So I wrote this letter as I hope to bridge the gap and start some conversation.

Now it evolved over time and what I'd like to suggest is listen to the letter.

I'm hoping that some of you will choose to journal as we move through these talks because that journal will eventually form your own map.

I often say for example that with my book,

The book has the capacity to journal throughout it,

But when the reader decides to engage with the book and work with the journaling and the reflections,

That book then becomes their book.

It becomes our book and it becomes a book that all those around him or her can share.

So as you create your journal wherever you may choose to write it,

That is a map that you can share with others,

That becomes then your map of your territory,

Both with regard to who you are and your experiences as you transition through your heart pain and the challenges of the world and learning to become part of a different tribe,

In civilian territory.

Okay so let's look at the letter.

Even though too much of where I've been and what I've seen cannot be spoken,

And even though my present feels like such a struggle at times,

Both for you and me,

I remain a proud veteran who still believes in loyalty and who's willing to put my life on the line for others.

Many times it felt as if my brain remained on the battlefield.

The sound of a car backfiring became the enemy coming into contact with me.

Hitting the ground may have been a joke to you and others,

But it was life and death to me.

The flashbacks felt too real and every corner was a potential ambush.

I know that insisting I sit in restaurants with my back against the wall was difficult for you to understand or that trying to talk to me in a shopping set when I was scanning everyone walking past was irritating.

I know that at times you felt that after all these years I should have moved on.

I wish things were that simple as I was desperate to move on,

But every day was another day at war,

Or being vigilant and struggling with depression,

Stress,

Anxiety,

Grief and trauma.

For me there has been no escape.

My nights are full of nightmares and my days find me wanting to escape to safety and silence.

I've not given the best of myself to you all and I've never rested well with this.

I know you've struggled with the bonds I still have with the soldiers I served and that at times this bond has felt more connected than the bond I have with you.

I know you felt frustrated,

Byron,

My refusal to talk about that time of my life.

It's not that I don't want to share.

It's that I can't.

There are things I've never talked about and that haunt me every day of my life.

These are memories that I don't even share with other veterans.

But I also have memories that I can't share with anyone who hasn't been there.

I've tried to talk to civilians in the past,

But the look in their eyes showed me how complex,

In fact impossible,

It was for them to understand me.

I know my silence has hurt you and for that I am sorry.

It isn't personal.

I know you've said you're willing to listen and I've been grateful for that.

But these are stories that I cannot share with you.

Please understand.

At times it feels as if I have a room full of memories that I've locked away,

Not only from others but from myself.

They still affect my mood,

Sleep and ability to connect with others.

But I know and feel that my deepest fear is that if I ever begin to open this box,

I wouldn't be able to control what would come out.

It's hard enough just dealing with the surface of it all.

I promise you that I will do whatever it takes to become a better partner,

Parent and friend.

I know the ways I've tried to cope with the memories and experiences.

They haven't always served me and others well.

I am willing to look at what I can do to heal and find more peace.

Please try not to judge or push me into change.

It's hard enough for me to begin to open up to my suffering,

Grief and anger.

My moods have never been easy for you.

I have times when I feel on edge for no apparent reason or just feel down.

Again this is not personal.

What I need is some time and space just to be alone to catch my breath.

I am grateful for the years in which you've stood by me and done your very best to support me,

Even when I behaved in ways that made life difficult for you all.

They say that there's no such thing as an unwounded warrior.

We were young then and we felt immortal.

We never understood the price we would eventually pay for everything we did,

Saw and experienced.

Age has not diminished the pain.

If anything,

The pain has only become more intense,

But I am willing to change.

So yeah,

That's a challenging letter and maybe challenging for some of you to hear.

I also think that it's probably time I sat down and as we become increasingly aware over the years of the struggles that partners have living with veterans who have challenges as described in that letter,

That there maybe needs to be a letter written from the partner to the veteran.

You know,

I often say that we can bring the war back home and we then become the enemies to the families that surround and love us.

So it's a challenging,

It's a very challenging topic this one.

So what I'd like to finish off by saying is that my wish for all of you is that you run your path with courage.

It takes courage to heal.

It takes courage to learn to step into discomfort and then become comfortable with the discomfort.

It takes courage to share your truth,

Your pain,

Your fear,

Your loss.

My wish is that may your heart stay open and may you risk yourself for authentic and real connection.

To all the extraordinary veterans and current serving that I have sat with for so many years,

I want you to remember that you are not limited or restricted by the pain and grief that you carry.

All of you have the capacity to heal.

Keep running one step at a time.

Remember as I often say,

If you can't run,

Walk.

If you can't walk,

Crawl.

If you need to sit down on the side of the road,

Do so,

But then get up,

Dust off and take another step.

This is who you still are.

Thank you for sharing this talk with me.

And as I've often said,

Feel free to make contact with me.

I wish you all a good day.

May life nurture you.

May your journeys nurture you and may you heal to the discomfort of what you carry.

Thank you and goodbye.

Reviews

Attention Instructors.
I have NOTHING I can say that this man didnt just clarify and pour into a crystal glass for all to see.
PAY ATTENTION! This one thing, start to finish, should be required listening for every instructor and therapist here. You think my tongue is sharp? My story could gut you out and leave you wondering what reality is. I can NEVER tell my Story. Know this. Im not like civilians.
I cant become one. But I can calm myself, in my own way, and sometimes that takes looking at another Veteran and saying “ IM SICK OF THEM.”
Does it ever stop? No. Does it get better? Never.
Does drugs or institutionalized treatment work? No.
There is only ONE CURE for me.
You, BE A GOOD MAN. Stop starting wars you cant fight in. Stop creating killing machines out of 17 year old boys and acting like its your right in doing so. Then, you would not need men like us. There is NO END for me. Just two states.
Triggered. And Untriggered.
So if your not clear yet…. DONT PULL TRIGGERS.

Z, as usual. Nail on the head. I SEE YOU Brother Warrior. Im just swatting my six. Keep it real. T.
Loved the poem by the way. Nuff said.