He returned
from his most recent tour of duty in the Middle-East, a changed man. It was not
just the physical changes - the most obvious one was a stiff gait from a
moderately deep shrapnel-wound that had apparently severed some muscles. He had
recovered better than expected and could still move around, but was not fit for
combat roles anymore. He had been assigned other roles behind the desk and in
organising and coordinating training, logistics – working with people back on a
military base near home. He still looked forward a lifetime career with the
armed forces which were a second home for him. Everyone could tell something
was amiss after a little while. In the beginning it seemed normal, even if a
bit unusual for him, since he had just returned from active duty. He was known
as a calm, well-liked individual - loving towards his family and friends. He
had a reputation for standing up for what he believed was right. He was not
afraid to take on anyone if he believed they were in the wrong or unfair. He
also had a well-known, mischievous sense of humour and pranks that were legend
among those that knew him – his family, friends, neighbours and colleagues.
He was physically fit, strong, hardworking,
a cheerful, Can-Do! kinda guy and viewed as a soldier that he ultimately
became. It did not come as a surprise to anyone when he chose to go into the
military. He had a girlfriend who he married just months before being posted overseas,
somewhere secret that no one knew exactly where, except that it was in one of
the famous ‘trouble-spots’ around the world. He had returned from one tour to
learn he was a father of a little boy. On his return from the second tour, he
met his newest set of twins. The third
time he came back, he first saw his latest little daughter. People joked that
each time he went away and came back he would expect a new kid that his wife
gave birth to. He would always joke back saying that he was glad the kids all
did bear a striking resemblance to him.
One day, when his wife, when taking
the kids to the doctor’s after a few sleepless nights of coughing, wheezing,
sniffles and days of utter exhaustion for the both the parents (he was a good
father and did his best to contribute at home), confided something in her
private meeting with the General Practitioner (GP), without him around.
A week ago, it had been a typical
day and the kids were ill, a bit whiny and she too had been tired and a bit
grumpy. Normally, he was the cheerful, bubbly person who pulled everyone out of
any gloom in the family. She had
expected that it would be no different this time. She had snapped at the oldest
child for coming to her complaining about something trivial and in her face,
blocking her view of her husband. As she pushed aside her child after chiding
him, she had caught a glimpse of his face frozen in an expression. She could
see and sense that he was fighting hard to change it and it was gone in a
flash. He was very quiet and did not say anything. He quickly diverted his eyes
and pretended to be looking at something at his side.
She was so shocked that she did not
respond in any obvious manner. She did not know what to make of it. She had
never seen such an expression on anyone before, directed at her. For a fraction
of a second, she did not recognise him as the person she knew and loved. It
seemed like someone else in his body.
“It just
might have been my own imagination,” she thought and put it away out of her
mind. Within minutes, he came back to being more normal, predictable as he had
always been – lovable and kind, even if a bit distant.
She had caught the same expression
again after a couple of days – this time as she observed him watching an
argument between his brother and his parents. It was again gone in a flash, as
he obviously wrestled with it and overcame it. It was something he obviously
was aware of but had not talked about to her. The standard briefing she had got
from his work place, before his return, had not mentioned anything like this.
She had debated whether to broach the
topic and ask him, but something from within seemed to warn her not to do it.
It was just the evening before she went to the doctor when she saw and heard
him swearing to himself, not aware that he was being watched and that same
horrible expression on his face. She was holding the little baby and walking
around, rocking her to sleep on the decking and from the almost darkness
outside, she saw a portion of one side of his faintly lit face in the bedroom,
sitting to one side on the floor, leaning against the bed. All the lights were
out, only the television was on, muted with the other children all asleep. She
was shocked, as she watched silently as he seemed to go through a couple of
minutes of a weird, silent ranting, swearing, grimacing and an awful expression
distorted his good looking face. He seemed to be fighting to control it and
soon he was over it.
“How are
you, darling?” he greeted her warmly, if a bit stiffly. They went to bed after
kissing the baby goodnight.
“We need to
take the kids to see the doctor. Its taking too long to get over the sniffles,”
she said, “I feel like I am coming down with something too.”
So, it was when the doctor was
checking her and he was outside the surgery with the kids, that she mentioned
what she had seen to the General Practitioner (GP).
Gradually and tactfully, the GP
arranged to talk to her husband. Slowly and gently the GP suggested to him that
a consultation with a psychologist might be a good idea and as if it came from
himself, not the soldier’s wife. The soldier was reluctant, but went along to
allay his wife’s concern. Little by little, some progress was made. The
diagnosis was finally given by the army psychologists’ panel – PTSD or Post
Traumatic Stress Disorder.
While his treatment and therapy
started with the full support of his family and friends, something changed
within the soldier. He was an intelligent man and socially well-tuned to
people, their feelings and thoughts. He could sense the fear, the aversion to
closeness among many who put on a false, friendly and cheery air around him. He
knew he was being patronised. He could not say anything. The harder they tried
to not appear condescending or patronising, the more he picked up on that. The
life of the family began a downward spiral over the next few years until it
became intolerable. His marriage was a sham. His wife and kids were depressed,
did not know quite what to make of life. The army and the government and
veteran’s services did their best and contributed a lot in trying to make
things better. Every effort made the realisation of the truth starker! I will spare the reader too many further
details, except to highlight some for the purpose of edification – the marriage
fell apart, the soldier could not work productively after a few years, took to
drinking, moping and fits of rage. Some of the children suffered emotionally in
their childhood, performed poorly, they knew they were pitied, some rose in
rebellion in against it, some wallowed in it, becoming highly dependent and
clingy to their near and dear ones. Their acting out pushed away many
potentially good people from their lives, attracted some of the more damaging
ones. One or two kids did reasonably OK. One in fact shone in life, rising
above her situation to achieve something remarkable. But overall, the story of
this family does not make for pleasant or happy reading.
All because
something had changed from within for one man, something that nobody could
easily or quickly fix, undo or make right. Things could not go back to how they
were. One had to accept a new reality – life with someone who had PTSD as a
result of unspeakable trauma – witnessed and participated in. The normal,
positive character of a person raised in a relatively honest, happy civil life
was gone for good due to a relatively brief (of a few months) encounter with
the worst of human nature and with the best of support that an advanced,
developed, modern society could offer, things could not be put back to the
‘right way’ for one man, one family, one community!!
Now consider
cases of trauma worse than those which this soldier had undergone – losing
one’s land, limbs, losing way of life, their homes, streets and infrastructure
destroyed, losing family members to random, irresistible brutality, multiplied
a million times or more, for millions of men, their families, survivors
enslaved for hundreds of years with no recourse or option – simply accept
reality and survive or die a painful or swift death!
It must have
been emotionally traumatising while raising generations of children and
grandchildren with the full knowledge that they will be slaves in their own
homes and country, to be exploited and abused at will by someone from far-away
lands. There are no helpful government support services or even that from
neighbours and the community – each of them is barely coping with tragedies in
their own lives!
How
traumatised and abnormal would you expect such a society to be, even if one day
they are set ‘free’?
How long do
you think it will take them to get back to ‘normal’ as judged by the standards
of someone outside – from an advanced, prosperous and relatively more stable
society that has had time to develop the finer qualities and tastes in life?
While we can
all easily read, relate and sympathise with the single case of the soldier and
his story – no matter who we are and where the soldier is from, do we look at
whole other societies of millions who have undergone worse with the same kind
of sympathy and understanding?
I contend that many countries and
societies today, which are not developed or are struggling, are those where it
is not just a case of PTSD for each of the millions of individuals, the entire
society or country is suffering from more acute PTSD.
The country of my origin, India, is
one of them. It had been traumatised for over 200 years in the last bout of
oppression from outside. When people talk as if they expect that the moment it
supposedly achieved ‘Independence’ it should be treated the same as from its
former rulers, I look incredulous. When they write as if they expect that
within a few decades it should be ‘normal’, even while there is a constant
undermining of its real independence with gross interference, it makes me smile
wryly. They are not being realistic!
If a few a months of trauma cannot
be fixed within a few months in the most advanced society, even for one
individual, how likely is it that 300 years of trauma to a society can be fixed
within 50 years for the hundreds of millions? No, it cannot. We just have to
accept a new reality, a new normal for the moment, even as we aspire to an
ideal that is same for all of us.
Photos credit and Copyright (c) Kannan Narayanamurthy 2014
All rights reserved