An Open Letter to Members of the TIR Association

An Open Letter to Members of the TIR Association

By David W. Powell

I am a veteran of the Viet Nam conflict. Until recently, like enormous numbers of other Americans who were there, I had increasing difficulty in dealing with daily life situations from the moment I came back form that war. I have recently handled some of those difficulties, and look forward now to handling them all.

I returned from front line, real-time combat as a Marine infantryman in the latter part of 1967, shortly before the Tet offensive. From the moment I arrived back in the U.S., up until 6 months ago, I had “successfully” functioned in the tapestries of society as a civilian, “not at all altered” by my up-close-and-personal exposure to outrageous cruelty, maiming, death, and the dying.

I have never resembled what you might envisage when you think of Viet Nam vets. I never grew my hair shoulder length, wore combat uniforms in lieu of 2- and 3- piece suits, protested the war, or bragged about my experiences; in fact, I denied them, to myself and many others. In this, however, I have been as hundreds of thousands of other “functioning”, “acceptable” individuals are, who continue to suffer from the effects of PTSD (Post Traumatic Stress Disorder). These people are my personal “silent majority”, in that they have quietly endured the pains and sufferings that others have endured less successfully.

Two years ago (1988), I experienced a series of back-to-back disruptions in my life. A relationship of some five years was destroyed, I learned that my children from a former marriage had been transported across the nation without my prior knowledge or consent, an important business transaction (“in the bag”) went awry, and my loving sister called to encourage me to volunteer as a speaker on the subject of PTSD because she knew that my experiences as a “grunt” would be more interesting to audiences than those offered by the uninitiated. (“Grunt” is s a term of endearment bestowed upon Marine infantrymen by other Marines.)

All of this, coming at once, overwhelmed me. I began crying. About everything. I knew I needed help, but didn’t know where to turn. I thought of the Veterans Administration. I was, after all, a veteran, and – just perhaps – my feelings of despair had something to do with my experiences in the service.

I called a Viet Nam outreach center nearby and made an appointment with a counselor for that afternoon. I spent an hour talking with him, leaving as upset as when I first came in. I didn’t return, but instead sent a letter of “thanks”, along with the explanation that I would retrieve my coping “tools” from before and deal with my situations as I had done in the past – alone.

After a time, I was invited to participate in a once-a-week “rap group” for Viet Nam combat veterans at a local VA mental health and rehabilitation center. I did this for nearly 18 months and came away feeling more harmed than helped by the experience.

Some 6 months ago, a fellow veteran introduced me to the practice of facilitation and Traumatic Incident Reduction. Curious, I looked into the possibility of getting help for myself.

I have been helped… a whole lot more than I had expected. I am becoming increasingly more able to cope with upsetting situations. Ordinary, everyday events seem less and less to trigger recurring thoughts of my Viet Nam experiences. I find, finally, that I can once again look forward to enjoying all that life has in store for me, without reservation.

This stuff works!

I am convinced that the TIR methods and practices developed by Dr. Gerbode are applicable and beneficial not only to people such as I have described myself to be, but also to the more visible, obvious, out-and-out victims of PTSD as well. In my opinion, TIR work is broadly applicable to the survivors of any tragedy, great or small, from the Russian veteran of the Afghan war to the millions who have “merely” suffered mental cruelty, or lost a loved one. And who has not?

I thought you might enjoy hearing what your help has meant to one person and I wanted to thank you.

David W. Powell, March 1990

More by David W. Powell

Patriotism Revisited (WARNING: depicts scenes of graphic violence).