The Power of your Presence

Yesterday I began my journey in alternative medicine treating my ptsd. I worked up the courage to be evaluated for the medical use of marijuana. I had to fight my longstanding uneducated opinion of the topic. All my life I'd seen it used illegally and fell into the stigmatized disapproval. But that's not what I'm writing about today, I digress...

I walked into the office and sat with many others in the waiting room. I was struck by how many of them looked no different than me. There were normal average looking citizens waiting paitently. No tie dye. There was no incense burning, just other regular unassuming people looking for help. But one lady in particular caught my eye.
When she walked in I could tell she was in a lot of pain. She walked with a limp and was a bit slow. When she sat down I could literally feel her discomfort. How we take for granted the ease in which we plop down to rest. She instead took great care and calculation in her approach.

She was clad in a baseball hat and large sunglasses covering her face. I wasn't sure if it was to hide the pain or her identity at first. I just knew it was something. She was visibly shaking. I wondered if it was nerves or possibly Parkinson which I've read can be greatly helped with medical marijuana.

I walked up to the receptionist and requested that if my place is ahead of her I'd like for her to go ahead of me because she was clearly in so much pain. As I walked back to my seat I noticed she was crying. I turned right back around pulled up my chair and introduced myself. She didn't know me. Nor I her. I didn't ask her name. I respected that she was masking her identity for whatever reason, that was not my concern. My aim was only to comfort her as much as I could while she waited. To distract the pain, to let her know she's not alone there in that waiting room.
She told me she was in so much pain. She'd had surgery and it didn't help. She mentioned being stationed in Hawaii. I told her I am a Marines widow. I told her a bit of my story. Her head popped up and she connected. She knew I could be trusted. She knew I was just like her. Suddenly her thoughts and feelings began to flow. I completely identified with her. I validated her frustrations with tricare, with pcsing and having to start all over in a new town with new doctors and a preexisting illness. She expressed how she felt ignored by most doctors or treated like a hypochondriac. It resonated with me. It reminded of when I was trying to have my auto immune disease diagnosed and was sent to every doctor and specialty imaginable. Had every test only to be told they couldn't find an answer. Her story and mine were so close.
I asked how her husband was handling it. She said fine. She mentioned he was injured in an eod explosion a few years ago and was better off than she was.

I swallowed hard. I said sometimes it's really hard for men to see their wife in so much pain and not able to fix it. Men have this primal instinct to fix things. I asked about his injury and how he was coping. She said great. She mentioned he survived but one of his Marines did not. She said in 2010 so many of his men were killed or injured. Naturally I asked about survivors guilt and his behavior. I also asked when her pain began. She said he struggled at first but seemed to recover so easily. She told me her pain began around the same time. You know what I'm thinking. I listened intently. I showed her I care.
She began mentioning how he was "ocd" now. Everything had to be in its place. How he could not sit still if a magazine was not stacked properly on the coffee table. I explained to her that sometimes after a traumatic even people develop types ocd. It's a control issue. They can control their environment at home. I had seen it personally. She looked relieved.

She told me since her back surgery she was unable to keep house because she could move as well and felt guilt because she knew this is what her husband wanted.

Basically....both are suffering independently together. I see it just as plain as day. He's frustrated with not being able to help her and his feeling of lack of control (I'm not saying it's ptsd but I'm saying it's something that should be watched) and she's feeling guilt because she can't keep up with his new ocd proclivity which causes more depression that adds to the pain.

This story is so common. It makes my heart hurt. She explained that she too was a senior Marines Wife and was sure if people found out about her being there it would be bad for her husband's career. He has 18 years in and is in charge of a rather large group. (Again I asked no questions of rank, mos, for respect. Not my place) she said if junior wives knew it would be all over the base by the end of the day. ( true statement. It was only two years ago I was a senior wife upholding that respective reputation) she cried again when she told me she'd never forgive herself if she shamed her husband or jeopardized his position.

My God I felt those tears. I knew exactly what she meant. I assured her that there is no shame in getting help. It's legal and the research backs it up. We are strong for knowing we need help and pursuing every avenue.

I gave her a few resources regarding ptsd, and pain secondary ptsd and suggested she ask the doctor about the CBD. I told her I'd be here in the waiting room when she got out and that she could contact me any time. She smiled and thanked me for being there when she needed someone most. She said I was an angel.

They called her name. She looked up. I said just be honest. Good luck. I helped her to her feet and waved bye.

When she walked out I was there as promised. She smiled and gave me a thumbs up. She mouthed "thank you" as she hobbled past and disappeared down the busy store fronts.

I felt good after our conversation. Any hesitation I had prior was gone. In a way we helped each other. Every talk I have with someone prepares me and educates me even more for the next. And I never know when that will be. I had no idea of her situation when I first sat down. I didn't even care. I just knew. I felt she needed a friend. It turned out I had more in common with her than expected. I was able to connect. I was able to ease and comfort her.

I think it so sad that we have such high standards on ourselves as military wives. We hide our pain as much as our husband's to uphold some image of strength.
The real strength is allowing yourself to be vulnerable and ask for help. Being authentic and true to your needs is most important. If we are the role models for those who come after us...this is what we need to convey. Not some stonewall facade. That helps no one. It's a disservice to us and those who look to us for guidance.

The Marine Wife culture is no different than the Marines. We can deny it. We can fight it but it's still there. When one needs us we are going to help. I don't care how corny that sounds. You'll get it some day if you don't now.

Our presence is needed. It is powerful. We are here for eachother. Through all the chaos. The highs and lows. Births and deaths. Honor those friendships. They know more about you than even your husband sometimes. You will never find another relationship quite like that of a fellow military wife.