Semi-annual post for people I love. Suicide prevention for military and vets.

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I posted on this topic about a year ago but I had a much smaller audience at that time. I’m updating the post and adding some new material. But the message is the same – suicide can be prevented!

This post occured to me the other day while I was watching Sons of Guns on television. The show is interesting if you’re a shooter or vet. This episode featured the greatest sniper in U.S. history, Chris Kyle, and a rifle he was having customized for his foundation FITCO. He worked with the team at Red Jacket, in particular Glenn “Flem” Fleming, one of the gunsmiths. Flem (as he’s known on the show) is an Air Force vet who said he had to leave active duty due to P.T.S.D. and T.B.I. (Post Traumatic Stress Disorder and Traumatic Brain Injury.)

I watched the episode with great interest. Chris was my hero the minute I found out he’d punched Jesse Ventura in the mouth. Props attached right from that moment. Jesse was out-gassing about S.E.A.L. team members dying in the sandbox and how they “deserved it.” Chris took exception and calibrated Jesse. Don’t get me wrong – Jesse could whup me any day of the week. But wrong is wrong and I admired Chris’ style.

There was a poignant moment when Chris and Flem were talking about all the feelings that you experience when you leave the service. Watch the episode for the full impact. The thoughts they expressed were the same ones I’ve heard hundreds of vets talk about over the years. I’ve had them run through my mind as well. Both men talked about the depression and isolation that comes from leaving your friends in harm’s way. Even if you’re not in combat you leave behind friends who are truly your brothers and sisters. It’s lonely in “the world” no matter how good your support system is compared to everyone else. It’s a very dramatic change. Even if you’re in a unit like S.E.A.L. teams (or my little band of misfits – the former Naval Security Group) where there’s a lot of lattitude, it’s still the military. Civilian life is so alien that it’s as close as you can get to being sprung from prison after doing a five, ten, or thirty year stretch. (No, the military is not populated with criminals and it is not prison – but the institutionalization is similar. Besides, we used to joke that the difference between being on a ship/sub and being in prison was that prisoners got cable t.v. and fresh produce.)

I could have been standing there with them. And right now you might be standing next to someone with the same feelings. If you know anyone who’s been in the military in the last few years, or even longer in some cases, you probably recognize some of those thoughts and ideas from talking to them. And here’s a few more things they might be going through – substance abuse, suicidal thoughts, extreme anger or sadness, lonliness, and a sense of loss that’s so overwhelming that it physically hurts.

How do most vets deal with it? For many of us that are blessed we can get past it and move onward. We just shrug it off and try to keep the brooding from coming too close to the surface. Sometimes we dont’ do a very good job. We find ourselves all choked up and crying in the shower when we hear “I’ll Be Home for Christmas” on the radio. We know that feeling the song conveys. Sometimes we just smile over absent comrades. And sometimes, when the darkness closes in, we kill ourselves. And recently it’s been in larger numbers than ever before.

There’s a thing called “The Spartan Pledge” that I’m endorsing as of this moment. The video is below. Watch it and then continue reading for more information.

(link to http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nslIi09gCLQ )

But, you might wonder, you just said you brush on past it. Most do. Some don’t. The thing is you can’t tell by looking at somebody if they’re feeling so low that suicide is an option for them. But you might suspect. You will probably hesitate to bring it up. Even if you’re the closest friend they have and you’ve know them for years. Or served in the same unit. Especially men. We hate that touchy-feely stuff.

So what do you do? First, if you are feeling suicidal quit reading my nonsense and pick up the phone to a suicide hot-line. 1-800-273-8255. You are precious and irreplaceable and … well, suicide truly has never made anything better for anyone.

For those of you who know someone who has been acting out of sorts lately, depressed, distant, dark and moody, etc., find out why. You might really annoy them by asking, but if they kill themselves you will never have the chance to ask or annoy them again. Is your dignity worth more than their life?

You are probably wondering why this is on my mind? Too many people I know have taken their own lives. Too many people I know are in the process of taking their lives and I’m not yet aware of their plight. I wish I was. I’d drop to my knees and start praying for each of them right now. I’d beg them to get help.

Suicide is preventable. It is only a fatal issue if nothing is done to prevent it.

So, pay attention to those around you and make sure that the troubled ones get some help. Sometimes just your asking how they are and probing a bit can bring the darkness to the surface and allow you to help the person. Knock on their door and drag them out to breakfast. Make them be a part of life before death claims them.

If you are in need of help, get it right now. My friends know they can call me for that help. You have a friend that will do that for you. The people at the hotlines are there because they love you and want to help. They don’t need to know you to love you. Call 1-800-273-8255 and talk to someone today.

And, for those whom we’ve lost to suicide, our memories are tinged and darkened. We all wish we’d known so that we could have helped. But since there are no time machines available, go and help those in need today.

Finally, and perhaps the second most important point of this post: Mental Illness is not contagious. Reach out today. You don’t have to be a veteran to help a veteran. You just have to have the love in your heart to extend that hand. Most vets do fine. But there’s no shame in saying that it’s rough “on the outside” and getting help.

Something lite for breakfast

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This post is to give a little levity to the day before the post around noon hits. Noon’s post is heavy and it should be passed along to anyone you know that might be described in it. But in the meantime here’s part of my favorite obsession – off the wall music. I present to you: Nicki Bluhm & The Gramblers!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qagfnqQNkeo&feature=relmfu

Movie review: Kings Go Forth

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So, sue me, it’s not a movie review. But I do like the idea of reviewing movies. This is more of a twit’s ode to Sinatra.

Kings Go Forth was released in 1958. I won’t go into all the anachronisms and other problems with the film. (Well, just one – Sinatra is 43 in the movie and Natalie Wood is only 20. He’s kind of old for a guy who enlisted in the Army and has never had a girlfriend of note.) What I want to talk about is the “cool” factor and how Frank pretty much epitomizes it in films of that era.

Sinatra did this movie at a point in his career when he could have just phoned it in and left it at that. He did some movies where I wondered if he’d even looked at the script. But Frank was always very smooth in whatever he did. This movie, including an excellent performance by Tony Curtis, was on the leading edge of the Civil Rights Movement. It involved a love affair between a female character who’s half black and a white man. Risky stuff in 1958. But that was Sinatra.

Whatever faults Frank had race wasn’t one of them. He was right out front in his support of civil rights. Frank didn’t put up with the nonsense of discrimination and he wasn’t afraid of what a film like this might do to his career. And I think this was probably a good film for him in that it let him stretch his acting chops beyond his winning smile and voice. He’s a real character in the movie and he’s so good at the role that you lose sight of the fact that it’s Frank Sinatra. When he (WARNING SPOILER (is that possible in a 54 year old film?)) promises to kill Tony Curtis you can see the rage. It’s an icy version but it’s there.

I won’t blow the ending of the flick. But I will endorse it. If you get a chance to watch it it’s two hours well spent. And remember to look for Frank being “cool” throughout the film. And, just because I’m a nerd and have nothing better to do, there’s a bit of foreshadowing in the movie for the actress, Natalie Wood. She almost drowns in a suicide attempt. Funny how life works that stuff out, eh?

I guess I better categorize this post as pure blather. But I just finished watching it and wanted to share my enjoyment of the movie.

Back to important stuff in the next post.

Pictures on a board.

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I went to the memorial service for my friend and coworker Jean on Thursday evening. It gave me some time to contemplate her life and death.

I sat in the chapel room with her cremains. Twenty years ago nobody I knew was cremated when they died. That’s changed radically and now most funerals I attend the body is disposed of in that manner. That’s my plan when the time comes. My wife and I will eventually be deposited at Fort Snelling, no doubt a few dozen rows from where my father and mother will eventually rest together.

But Thursday I stood and looked at the pictures on a board that represented the life of a person whom I’d known for just a few years. Jean was a sweet person. As I noted earlier in the week she was the kind of person who saved you a piece of cake if you couldn’t make it to the party. And the pictures reflected that person. Pictures of her at family gatherings, at the side of her children, with assorted classmates, and with Santa. I identified with that picture in kind of a strange way: sixty years from now people will be laid to rest and their picture with Santa will be one with me. A strange man whose knee they occupied for a few minutes in their childhood. I’ll be long gone in body, but that photo of me will still be cropping up six decades or more from now. That’s kind of cool.

One of the pictures on Jean’s board was of her dog. If you love your pet you will get it, and if you don’t have pets you might not. But I know that dog meant a lot to Jean and she found it very difficult to lose her friend. Pets take a piece of our hearts with them every day of our lives and give us love out of all proportion in return. And when they leave, the gaping hole in our existence is exquisitely painful. I like to think that on that Friday morning that Jean left this world there was great joy and barking in Heaven because they were reunited at last.

Jean was a good looking woman, and some of the pictures of her in her youth showed a different person than the one I worked with in the recent past. A younger person who had not yet been tamed by life. Full of energy and excitement. And in some of the pictures a weariness and sadness that shows through even when a smile is on the face. The look that says, “Man, I’m bushed. Can we just move on?”

I understand that look as well. We all get it from time to time. It’s not a facial report of failure, or anger, or disappointment. It’s just the honest evaluation of our strengths and weaknesses. A self-assessment that leaves us in doubt of how well we’re coping with the challenges in our lives. Jean coped. She carried on. She worked very hard to make things go for other people. Including me. And I thank her for her kindness.

Maybe that’s where a sense of love from God comes into the picture. Christ admonished us to love each other as we love ourselves. Show that love to someone you work with today. They might be the man or woman in that picture with the struggle showing in their eyes. Your kind word or deed may be just what they need to get over the hump of that day and continue on to their destiny. You might be the spark that ignites their flame and helps them to come closer to God because you reflected his love in your actions.

I don’t always live up to that standard. I’d be lying if I said I even try every day. But Thursday, sitting quietly in that room with Jean for the last time I resolved to try a bit harder going forward. The soft glow of lights in Jean’s cube should help me remember that when the time comes.

For pity’s sake, it’s snowing.

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I’m not quite ready to throw in the towel on Fall. I just got home from work and I’m wearing my shorts, a short-sleeved shirt, sandals, and a stocking cap (the fat head gets cold easily, even in Summer.)

I walked out of the building at 05:01 and it had that amazing smell you get when the first snow is coming. It still has a hint of falling leaves, but there’s a crisp edge to it that you only get when snow is in the air. It’s nothing like opening a freezer and taking a whiff. Once you’ve smelled it, you’ll never forget it.

I wasn’t too pleased when the little white devils swirled out of the night and covered my windshield on the way to the freeway. The thermostat on my car kept dropping as I got closer to home. It was right at 34 degrees when I pulled into the garage.

So, this morning instead of sitting on the steps with the dogs, I turned on the furnace. It’s cold in here.

I wish you a warm and wonderful day wherever you are.

And, here’s a little taste of what’s to come. (I’m six feet tall. Do the math!)

Winter Wonderland my...That sign sticking up out of the snow is about 4 stories tall.