I’m a CEO with PTSD
*THE DEPLOYMENT*
As the indirect fire reigned in, day after day, and night after night, a 27-year-old United States Air Force First Lieutenant about to pin-on Captain, lay awake clutching his Bible, praying to God to fall asleep…
It had been nearly 168 hours since the last time I had slept.
My eyelids felt heavy but wouldn’t stay shut.
I could feel a strange “buzzing” in my brain.
I was aware of my surroundings, but unable to function.
Everything was moving, but I couldn’t pull myself out of the fog.
Time slowed down.
I felt like a zombie.
Gripped with fear and severe anxiety, I simply couldn’t calm myself down.
It felt like a 300-pound man was standing on my chest.
And trust me, I had tried everything to get him off me.
It was early June 2011, and my best friend and comrade from our Air Force Academy days just happened to be passing through by helo on his way from Camp Leatherneck, Afghanistan.
He could sense something was horribly wrong and asked what he could do.
With tears in my eyes, I asked for prayers — prayers that I WOULDN’T get sent home.
He told me I should go to mental health.
In a last-ditch effort, and unbeknownst to my troops, I made the 500-yard walk from my Unit HQ to the Role II mental health clinic at Kandahar Airfield, Afghanistan.
I was afraid, embarrassed, and worried the doctor would tell my commander, who would then send me home.
As we were finishing our first visit, I asked the doctor to see what he had written down.
I couldn’t stomach the thought of having a mental health condition or any sort of mental health diagnosis.
I begged him to simply jot down “combat fatigue.”
He obliged.
It was the first of at least 10 visits I made to him throughout my deployment.
If I could find him now, I’d give him a huge hug, and thank him for helping me in a time of complete desperation.
When I look back, that Army Psychiatrist (doctor) I had met probably saved my deployment and maybe even my life.
The point of this story is not for anyone to feel bad for me.
I’m not a hero and I don’t want your sympathy.
The point of this story is NOT to talk about me.
It’s to talk about YOU.
It’s time we remove any stigmas associated with PTSD or any other mental health condition and bring conscious awareness to the serious mental health issues affecting every single part of our society.
I’m a CEO with PTSD and nobody is immune.
Whether you served in the military or not, it really doesn’t matter.
Mental health conditions can be brought upon by a plethora of different factors, many of which modern medicine still doesn’t quite understand.
You might even be the one struggling from an undiagnosed mental health condition right now, at this very moment, as you read this post.
And there’s something I want to tell you today…
IT’S OKAY NOT TO BE OKAY.
This is me, speaking to YOU right now and giving you permission to get help.
Please take some time today to ask the hard (and often “uncomfortable”) questions of those around you.
Young and old, and the seemingly strong, you simply don’t know what’s really going on in that person’s mind and in their life.
Outward appearances and social media can easily hide the truth.
I’m encouraging you to go to mental health, and push others to do the same.
Getting help doesn’t make you weak — in fact — it makes you strong.
*THE RETURN*
Upon my return to the United States in late 2011 things unfortunately got progressively worse.
I did what many people do in similar circumstances and tried to mask my mental health issues with alcohol, drugs, gambling, and very bad behavior.
I could always count on Jack Daniels.
But trust me, that guy never did me any favors.
Neither did the Benzodiazepines or slot machines.
Life began a downward spiral between 2012–2017, culminating in some major work/life issues as well as a divorce.
PTSD, Cyclothymia (a rare mood disorder), depression, and anxiety are the real battles I now face every single day, and yet, from an outsider looking in, they might not even realize it.
“Brian, you’re the founder & CEO of a company that helps veterans and you have a ton of followers.”
Yes, those things are true.
But “followers” doesn’t equal “friends.”
You don’t see the guy who’s sometimes too depressed to get out of bed.
You don’t see the guy who’s often afraid to leave his own home.
You don’t see the guy who struggles every single day in work, life, and relationships.
I’m able to hide behind a laptop.
Maybe this sounds a lot like you or those around you.
If you’re struggling at all, with anything, please go get help.
YOU matter, you’re important, and we need you.
I quit drinking alcohol nearly two years ago and finally stopped the Benzodiazepines.
Life is better now that I’m not masking who I really am.
I have a great support system in my wife and family.
I credit the founding of my company as well as my team and fellow veterans at VA Claims Insider with saving my life.
I now get to work with veterans every single day and bring them hope and inspiration.
I get to be real.
I get to be raw.
I get to be the real “me.”
*ABOUT THE AUTHOR*
Brian Reese is the Founder & CEO of VA Claims Insider — the most trusted name in education-based resources for veterans.
He is a former active duty Air Force officer with extensive experience leading hundreds of individuals and multi-functional teams in challenging international environments, including a combat tour to Afghanistan in 2011.
Brian is a Distinguished Graduate of Management from the United States Air Force Academy, Colorado Springs, CO and he holds an MBA from Oklahoma State University’s Spears School of Business, Stillwater, OK, where he was a National Honor Scholar (Top 1% of Graduate School class).
You can find him online here: https://vaclaimsinsider.com/
Originally published at https://www.linkedin.com.
