True North (22 page)

“
I was reprimanded one too many times, and they sent me stateside for correctional discipline. It didn’t take, and let’s just say I got to know the MPs really well in Colorado. I was forced into a pysch eval and was told by my
new
acting commander, who I’d never even met before, that I was nothing but a pain in the ass and a waste of taxpayer dollars. He liked to taunt me by telling me that other soldiers went to war and held it together when they got back. That they weren’t weak, so maybe it was all in my head.”

Mother. Fucker.
Now
I
wanted to hit somebody! “Please tell me you know that isn’t true.”

“
I do now. That’s why I have all of these articles cut out. The wife of a buddy of mine had been fighting his command and the entire Army to get him the help and services they believed he needed. He came back fucked up all kinds of sideways. She started giving me copies of the research she’d been doing. That’s where all the clippings came from.

“
The stories sounded a lot like mine: watching out the windows, listening for every sound. I still hear the bomb blasts and gunfire.”

“
Like what happened when you threw me under the table at the club.”

He nodded. “I got the bike ‘cause it was cool as fuck, but was glad I did because when I got back I was afraid to get into an enclosed vehicle. I’d seen too many explode.

“
You know, Livie, there’s so much more of this endless shit. I don’t know if talking about any of this with anyone else is going to help me at all. You’re my best friend and I trust you. But I don’t really see an end or a resolution … I mean what kind of outcome could there really be except for acceptance? Acceptance that that’s the way shit went down and there’s nothing I can do to change it?”

“
Yeah, I don’t know.” I laid out the truth. “I’ve read about a therapy that has boasted a good success rate with PTSD victims. The VA is even using it. It’s called EMDR therapy. Maybe we could look into that. I don’t know what’s going to help or not help, I just know we’ll keep working at it. And as long as you want to, we’ll do it together.”

“
Together,” he mused and took my hand. “When I was sent out of the Army, I felt like a weak piece of shit that just got handed his balls. I hated myself, Livie, and I was so ashamed—ashamed I wasn’t going back to keep fighting with my friends still stuck over there, ashamed because I was so relieved I never had to go again. And so ashamed that I lost everything except the stigma and label of a misconduct ‘Other than Honorable’ discharge. I was drunk for two weeks before I forced myself to come home.”

My heart broke for him. He didn’t deserve to come home feeling like that.

“
So, I didn’t tell anyone. I just acted like I was on extended leave and was going to figure it out from there.” He met my eyes. “I was trying to act like everything was fine … normal. Then there was you. I was all kinds of messed up, wondering if you were going to be there at that party, wondering if you were with somebody else, wondering how such an undeserving piece of shit like me could ever be worthy of you.”

“
Jake!”

“
Livie!” he mocked me back.

“
I don’t ever want to hear you talk crap like that again!” I said.

“
I failed the biggest journey of my life. Everyone was all like, ‘The hero has come home.’ I just wanted to fall into a hole,” he confessed.

“
I get it,” I said softly.

“
Some soldiers—scratch that—most soldiers don’t have wealthy parents to keep them afloat when they lose it all. I have a never-ending stream of money at my fingertips and there’s a security in that, which I’m entirely grateful for … but, Livie, I want to make my own way. I know I don’t want to work the ranch or the oil rigs, but I don’t know what to do now. Getting a job is going to be harder than hell with my discharge.”

“
Have you thought about school? I know a pretty good university.” I smiled.

“
I’ve thought about that.”

“
It hasn’t been that long, Jake. Maybe you just need some time and distance from the crap that happened to get your head straight. Maybe you can relearn how to feel.”

“
What do you mean?”

“
You know, like when you made me go rock climbing and eat shit I wouldn’t put into my mouth for a million … scratch that, guess I’d put it in my mouth for you, right? But something different, completely out of the box.” A smile spread across my face.

“
What are you thinking?”

“
Maybe after a couple of months of sessions with the doctor and when my semester is over … I don’t know, maybe we can take a serious road trip.” I formulated the plan as I spoke.

“
Road trip? It’ll be December in the dead of winter. Where will we road trip to?”

“
Sunny southern California? Travel the coast and the deserts for a few months—I’ve heard that Death Valley is most beautiful in the winter.”

He studied my face. “You’re serious!”

“
Yeah, I’m serious. Think about it! An adventure like that could make you come to life again.”

“
Finances?”

“
Come on, Mr. Trust fund, there’s only the two of us, it would be easy.” I watched his eyes brighten. “You like my idea!”

“
I do like your idea. But what about school for you?”

“
Really? I can totally take a semester off—to be with you and help you heal and find yourself again, to travel … come on, son!”

We both laughed.

“
Let’s do it!” He jumped off the couch and pulled me up to hug me. “How do we plan it?”

“
I have no idea,” I admitted.

“
I was scared shitless telling you all of that,” he confessed.

“
I know. Thanks for opening up to me.”

“
Yeah. How about we watch a movie? Something stupid funny?”

“
I like the sound of that.”

Chapter 19

“
Demons”

Imagine Dragons

I was startled awake for the sixth night in a row by Jake’s thrashing and screaming. They were frightening, blood chilling howls. It had been two months and the doctor still hadn’t found the right medication combo.

I’d gotten the idea to play music and call his name to wake him up. Somehow it eased him back into the land of the living instead of me shouting and jostling him. We had decided on something melodic. We created a Daughtry playlist. Strong enough to wake him but calm enough to lower his adrenaline.

“
Jake!” I called calmly. “Babe, you’re just dreaming. Come on back to me.”

He shook himself and sat straight up. “Fuck!”

“
I’m sorry,” I offered lamely.

“
I fucking hate this! What’s the fucking sense? I’m not out of it. I’ll never be out of it! I’m going to relive it for fucking ever!” He bounced off the bed and stalked around the room.

When he was sad, it was easier to deal with. Showing him sympathy was a hell of a lot simpler than handling his fury when he transformed into a raging dragon that had been backed into a corner. He had angry days, but those were usually when the nightmares had terrorized him for days and he barely slept. I learned to just kind of stay out of his way and let him be angry. Anger could be healthy. He usually took a run or worked out on his punching bag. But lately, it was getting worse.

He slammed the docking station against the wall. “Choose a better fucking song!”

His appointment was coming up with the EMDR doctor next week. In the meantime, he’d only been doing behavioral therapy, and Jake hated it. He never felt like he could connect with the doctors.

He wrenched open the bathroom door. “I don’t have a mental illness, and all these medications only make me a fucking zombie! They don’t even help me sleep!”

He yanked out each of the bottles from the mirrored cabinet, popped the tops off and dumped the contents into the toilet.

“
Jake!”

“
No! No, ‘Jake!’ I’m not taking this crap! I’d rather have a few drinks with no pills and work it out in my own mind.” He turned on me like he dared me to contradict that.

“
Okay,” I said softly.

“
Are you kidding me?” he shouted. “It was your idea!”

“
Yeah! When there was a chance it could help you, but it’s not helping!” I shouted back. “Remember the whole trial and error thing?”

He sat on the edge of the tub and buried his face in his hands. I knelt in front of him and rubbed his knees gently, wishing desperately that I could take away his pain.

“
I don’t want to be a burden or a basket case.”

“
Good. ‘Cause you’re neither of those things,” I assured him.

“
I’m sorry for yelling at you and being a dick.”

“
No biggie.”

“
I don’t want to go see the doctor anymore. I talk to him about the same stuff I talk to you about. It’s redundant and doesn’t make any sense. Can it just be me and you, please?”

“
It’s always been me and you.”

He nodded and let go of a deep sigh.

“
One favor?”

“
What?” His voice was rough from lack of sleep and screaming.

“
While we get everything in place for our road trip adventure, you try the EMDR, even if it’s just for a couple weeks. See if it helps you at all.”

He scooped me into his arms. “You help me.”

I didn’t change my expression. It was our final option for a little relief and I wasn’t ready to chuck it to the wind.

“
Okay, I’ll do it,” he conceded.

“
Why don’t we go back to bed?” I took his hand and reached for the bottle of sandalwood and sweet almond massage oil. “I’ll treat you to a massage to relax you.”

“
That’s not what massages usually do for me,” he said suggestively.

“
Well, then maybe we’ll get to that too.”

He lay on the bed … on his back.

“
Roll over.” I rolled my eyes, smiling.

I poured some of the oil in my palms and warmed it between my hands. Kneading it into his tense shoulders, the relaxing masculine scent filled the room. Twenty minutes into it, I could feel and hear the change in Jake’s breath. He had fallen asleep.

We’d found an alternative medicine and therapy website and decided to employ some of their ideas: intense physical workouts twice a day—once in the morning and once in the late afternoon, close to evening, yoga twice a week for stress reduction and relaxation, and a tai chi class on the weekends. We had sex as much as possible—because that relieved stress too—I gave him a massage, even a light one, almost every night. After a while he even started giving me one first … of course that usually ended up with us having more sex.

Jake even tried acupuncture and Reiki, with awesome results.

“
Hey! We could even hang out in Colorado or Washington states for a while,” Jake announced one afternoon.

“
Why?”

“
Legalized marijuana—some vets are seeing good results.”

“
Well, why the hell not?”

Between the alternative and EMDR therapy, we watched the nightmares reduce in frequency, and even Jake’s paranoia eased. We still shied away from crowds—another problem for another day. We were making progress.

Chapter 20

“
Born to Be Wild”

Steppenwolf

“
It’s way too cold to ride the Victory, Jake,” I reminded him, laughing as we were packing our stuff up. He was jokingly trying to tell me we should ride it home instead of taking my car, which he loved … making fun of, that is.

“
Stop bashing my KIA!” I hit him with a pillow.

“
I’m glad we’re together, I really wanted my pillowcase back.” He snatched it out of my hands and hit me back.

I rolled my eyes. “So when’s the moving truck going to be here?”

“
A couple hours.”

I lugged my clothes bag into the living room near the door with the rest of the boxes and stuff and set it in the pile we’d be packing in the car to take with us. Since the apartment came furnished we didn’t have a lot, but we had accumulated enough to go into a small storage unit. We’d only be taking our clothes and some bare essentials on the road trip. His Victory would have to ride in a U-Haul trailer pulled by my KIA, which I was going to let Nate sell for me once we left.

I paused for a moment to gaze over the painting I had done before Jake had come. It was beautiful—full of rage, anguish, longing, hope and faith. Jake had been able to repair the frame and it had hung ever since over the mantle here in our first apartment together.

“
We’re done, baby. I’ve done triple-checks.” He tossed the beloved pillow over on the we’re-taking-that pile.

It was January fourth. We had rung in the New Year, I settled out of school—for now—and said “see ya” to the friends we’d made in the area.

One Republic’s “Secrets” came on. Jake came up behind me and wrapped his arms around my waist. “Show me the pictures and tell me the plan again.”

I smiled, full of him. “You know the plan.”

“
So what, it psyches me out!”

He’d been doing so good lately; love, the right therapies and something to look forward to and live for had given him a real semblance of a future.

I took his hand and led him to the bedroom desk where I had my laptop. I sat down and flipped it open while he stood watching over my shoulder.

“
Okay, first our fucking-awesome-adventure mobile.” I pulled up the picture. We chose a pre-owned Earth Roamer XV LT. It sported 41” MPT—81 military tires, had four-wheel drive, and beefed up, rugged, customized additions that screamed Jake’s name. “And our route: from Williston we go through Montana”—Jake swept my long hair to one shoulder and started kissing my neck—“into Wyoming, and then we’ll land in Colorado to pick … up … the rig.”