Confronting the Trauma left by Viet Nam: An Interview with Phil Downer, Part 2

PD: Well, I came home with a lot of pain, guilt and anger. Our country didn't receive us well. Not only did they reject us but they also accused us of things that we hadn't done. I took it personally and I took offense for the good men who had died. I know it was a very difficult time for everyone and I'm not judging what happened. From my point of view at the time, however, it was very painful to be rejected when we came home. There were no parades; no hero's welcome. Worse yet, many considered that we lost the war. For it all to be considered a loss was very, very painful. 

The other emotion I experienced was survivor's guilt. Over and over I asked myself, why had I lived when others had died? I'm not that good. During combat, things don't go perfectly and no one can make perfect decisions. Men die. So I carried guilt from things that I did and didn't do. I replayed the moment John was killed thousands of times in my mind trying to figure out what I might have done differently. Over and over I relived the sheer pain of losing these men in such a brutal way and the feeling of being helpless to keep them alive. Their screams rang in my ears for many years. 

BMC: What did you do with all those memories? 

PD: I had no place to put that survivor's guilt. So I came home with all that inside. I stuffed it. While others medicated their pain with alcohol and drugs, I medicated it with work and drivenness. I got back in school with a determination to never have people order me around again. So, I went to law school and married Susy along the way. But all that pain, guilt, dislocation and bitterness was like a volcano that would erupt again and again in anger, most often with my wife. 

BMC: Were you aware that you were dealing with post-traumatic stress disorder? 

PD: No, I wasn't. And I wasn't aware of it for many years. The fact is, I had grown up with a lot of trauma. My mother attempted suicide twice and I found her both times. My father had affairs. I became an angry kid with a bad attitude. I went off to war an already very wounded young man. The war just multiplied the hurt, fear and anger that I already had. 

BMC: When did you come to terms with that? 

PD: I was really wasn't able to begin to find help for my problems until five years into my marriage when my wife was ready to divorce me and I was about to lose my job. That's when a man I knew told me that there was a better place for me to put my guilt, my anger, my bitterness and my hurt. He told me that Jesus Christ was ready to offer the comfort, acceptance, forgiveness and healing that I needed most of all. Receiving Jesus Christ in my life was absolutely life changing. My wife saw the change in me as I gained greater control over my temper and miraculously she fell back in love with me. 

Our marriage was salvaged but there were still problems. You see, when the King adopts the orphan boy and erases his crimes, gives him new clothes, teaches him a new language, and offers him a new inheritance, he still has old habits, old ruts, and old recollections that call out to him. If he chooses to, he can run from this new kingdom life, climb down the wall of the castle and return to the more familiar orphanage and the streets where he spent so much time. It takes a long time for a man, or woman, to overcome all the vestiges of post-traumatic stress. It requires a daily practice of remembering our new identity in Christ, that we're forgiven, that we're loved unconditionally. We have to deny ourselves, our old ways of thinking, our old methods for handling emotion, our old habits. It's a process. 

BMC: What were the indicators that you had returned to the orphanage? 

PD: I became extremely suspicious and argumentative, taking a defensive position with others with a ruthless, take-no-prisoners attitude. It served me well as a lawyer but it was just another form of control. 

BMC: What's your message to men who are still dealing with post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD)? 

PD: We sufferers of PTSD need to realize that our wives, families, and employers are not the enemy--and also that we are not the enemy. The real enemy is the unresolved fear, anger, guilt, rage, and bitterness that can be healed. You can't heal it, however, by explaining it, justifying it, trying to forget it, or by allowing it to drive you. The only way I could heal it was to replace it--to replace the bitterness with the love of the Lord Jesus Christ, to replace the guilt by the forgiveness of Christ, to replace a life driven by pain and anger with a life driven by faith and hope in Christ. 

One of the things men really struggle with is fear. If Vets suffering from PTSD would be willing to say to their wives, "this is not your fault, I'm feeling fear and I need your help," their wives may soften as mine did. When I invited Susy's help, she was delighted. It also gave her purpose in our marriage as well. I was afraid my asking would be seen as weakness, but she saw it as strength of character. When I reacted in anger, pushing her away in rage, which I was always taught was acceptable behavior for a man, that's the time when she would lose respect for me and not know what to do. I needed to learn how to admit to her that I needed comfort and she needed to learn how to give me comfort and not merely tell me what to do or offer solutions or platitudes. This change has given us such a rich partnership in marriage. We are so close and so devoted because we have walked through this together. God truly has restored the years the locusts have eaten.