Normally, I don't delve into my personal life too much on here, mainly because Jordan hates when I talk about him online. But I have something to get out and it's best not to let your demons fester inside of you.
I'm sure most of you know Jordan was in the Marines and had 2 combat deployments to Iraq. The first from January to August of 2007 and the second from April to October of 2008 and he missed the birth of Rosslyn.
When he got back from his first deployment, he had to go get checked out at deployment health and it was then when he was diagnosed with PTSD. The first deployment was tough on him, I think the second one was tougher though because it was after that when the real problems started arising.
Ever since we started dating, Jordan always had some bit of crowd anxiety, like when we would go out to eat at a restaurant, he would barely eat any of his food for some reason. Then after he got out of boot camp, that problem lessened. Now, it's all I can do to see if he'll go out and eat.
But back to after second deployment, he went back to deployment health, got evaluated and was sent to a psychiatrist who gave him prescriptions for sleeping pills and anti-depressants, both of which he filled but never took a single one. He believes that as Americans, we're too dependent on pills as cure-alls. He was always passionate when we got into fights but that year, it seemed like everything was amplified. Throwing things, kicking doors, etc. I thought he was just upset but now I realize it was his PTSD. On his post-deployment leave in 2007, we were up at his cousin's cabin after spending a day on the lke and they wanted to cap the night with fireworks. So Jordan and his cousin Steven, also a former Marine but not a grunt, were to set them off and they were lighting them and they started popping off and he said it was like he flashed back to Iraq. Ok, so fireworks are out of the picture. Then, during summer 2009, stupid me decided it would be a great idea to take a combat vet and 1 year old to a WWII reenactment. That just spelled disaster.
In the year and a half since he's gotten out, his PTSD comes and goes. He manages it really well by just displacing himself from the situation. He will never be able to go to fireworks on Independence Day again, and a trip to walmart or the mall is almost completely out of the question. I understand this and try to be accepting as I can but it does hurt that when I want a family outing, I practically have to beg. And I try not to make him feel too guilty for it. I know now that on certain things, I just have to do them with me and the girls.
He has definitely changed since going to war but I have accepted this life now, my new normal.