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    Dating combat veteran

    And that ways both ways. Please combat vets do not make very dombat to threats. Data and civilians may as well be from two up countries. Why are all I'm made of. I made an all with a counseling service.

    You may know what it's like to hope that Dating combat veteran you combar just ignore something festering inside you that it would eventually go away. Seek help if you are Datjng, whether or not your veteran partner does. It is too sacred a subject to attempt to pry the details out of someone. Remember, veteraan are trampling on hallowed ground. Otherwise, this is perceived as an invasive and unwanted demand for the most extremely personal of information. Part of it is because you are not a combat veteran. Your veteran partner will probably be far comfortable talking about the war experiences in any detail with another combat veteran.

    It is crucial to remember that the vast majority of war veterans feel that no one but other combat veterans could possibly understand. As one such Vietnam veteran told me: An example of an ultimatum: Most combat vets do not respond very positively to threats. This is not a poker game where bluffing and deception go hand-in-hand with winning.

    Dating a combat veteran with ptsd

    You need to point such things out, but not dwell on them, depending on how severe the symptoms are. You have the right to have your needs and wants met, no matter how troubled your veteran partner is. And so do your children. This includes screaming, yelling Dating combat veteran threatening behaviors. And do not EVER tolerate your veteran partner hurting you or your family. Violence in war is one thing. He was distant, moody, and suffered frequent migraines. He drank a lot, and he was an insomniac. He would sometimes fly into a rage always at a video game, never at me and he didn't relate very well to others, especially at work. As the recession hit, I became chronically unemployed and our financial troubles mounted.

    Over the next five years, he bounced from job to job, we traveled cross-country four times and ended up spending several years living with family under crippling debt. By he had spiraled into a deep, dark depression. He ignored me and our thenyear-old son. There would be days where the only time he spoke to me was to ask me to make food when he remembered to eat. He had frequent panic attacks, some severe enough to send him to the hospital. He lost chunks of time, hated and feared going outside, couldn't sleep. Finally I'd had enough. I knew something was wrong, but he wouldn't admit it. That is a soldier's mentality.

    He'd been taught to suck it up and march on. He thought if he pushed hard enough, he could power through any problem. I made an appointment with a counseling service. He begged me not to make him go, not to make him face it. I drove my panicked, shaking husband to meet with the therapist, ignoring his pleas, while holding back tears. Luckily, that proved to be the turning point. The diagnosis was of PTSD, complicated by bipolar disorder. This led to panic anxiety, agoraphobia, hypervigilance, and major depression with suicidal tendencies. He began therapy, but life intervened again and Dating combat veteran.

    We were two months behind on rent and had literally nothing. I called and appealed to the utilities and Dating combat veteran company not to shut off our service, and frequently asked friends and family for enough money to buy diapers for our son or gas for the car. We were on Food Stamps and it was barely enough, as long as ramen played a big part in mealtime. Leaving that apartment to avoid another eviction, we went to live with family again while we waited for word on my husband's Social Security Disability. We moved into a house with drugs and domestic abuse, the landlord we owed money to appropriated half of our belongings, and we had to rely on family yet again to get out of a potentially dangerous situation.

    Unfortunately, this has been our lives for much of the seven years we've been together. At one point my husband could not even speak to people on the phone, and my being gone for so much as an hour was often enough to trigger a panic attack. I was his only comfort, so with neither of us really able to work, the financial stress we were under was significant. At six months pregnant with our second child, I held him and talked to him for hours after he tried to commit suicide by alcohol. The VA refused to pay for the ambulance ride and brief hospital stay. It has only been a year since that incident, but it is still fresh. For four months we've been living in our first new apartment with modern amenities, in a nice neighborhood.

    Due to our financial situation, we were always relegated to living in unsafe and unsanitary and frankly illegal conditions. For someone who sees an enemy in even well-meaning people, the drug-addled peeping toms trying to see through our layers of blinds at two in the morning was not helpful.