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By John Jones
chief of development at America's Warrior Partnership.
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Every Memorial Day, America's veterans take center stage. But it only lasts for a moment, and then we fade once again from view.
Most people give some thought to our nation's veterans, in between BBQs and enjoying the sun on their day off from work. Perhaps they feel gratitude, but perhaps they don't. Maybe they know a veteran they're proud of, and maybe they don't. The day passes, and America moves on.
Meanwhile, 17 veterans will have committed suicide that day. They won't and can't move on; they've returned home from tours of duty and years of service and sacrifice, but they now find themselves overwhelmed as they struggle with loneliness, injury, PTSD, and more. They can't get the healthcare and support they need to reintegrate, and they're losing the battle against suicide.
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I should know. I'm one of America's veterans, and I've been there, confronting suicide as I relearned how to live after my battlefield injury. I want to tell my story, not to solicit guilt or pity from anyone, but instead to inspire gratitude. For any veteran reading this, I want to give you hope and let you know you are not alone; for everyone else, I want to shed a light on what veterans struggle with, and let you know how you can help.
I am a Marine, and I served in the Marine Corps for 12 years. I never dreamt of being anything other than a soldier. I loved the Marines. The Marines gave me discipline, taught me integrity, honesty and perseverance, and imparted to me a sense of dignity and honor. I gave all of myself, not just to my training and to my service, but to those I served with.
I would still be fighting alongside those men and women today if my life hadn't been forever changed one day in Iraq. In 2005, while I was on a routine patrol as a staff sergeant, my vehicle drove over a double-sided land mine. The entire front of my Humvee exploded. I was blown 25 feet into the air before I came crashing down near the wreckage of my vehicle. I could not feel anything in my legs.
I was in shock, unable to feel any pain at all. But I could still hear my men calling for me. I told them to seek cover and leave me where I was. But they didn't listen. And because they didn't listen, because they risked the ultimate sacrifice for my sake, I am still alive today.
I was rushed by helicopter to a field hospital, where I underwent the first of the 47 surgeries I would get over the next several months. I lost my legs. I knew I would never fight again.
What I didn't know at the time was just how much I would struggle to live normally. As a soldier, you learn to confront clear problems head-on. You learn to take a tactical approach and tackle challenges with confidence; you're not afraid to do hard things.
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But nothing prepared me for the battle I would face with trauma, depression and suicide. My recovery process was grueling enough, but even as I struggled to regain and live a normal, independent life, I felt like I was fighting the whole world around me just to keep from drowning. I had never felt more alone or more hopeless.
Little things that people take for granted or treat as simple nuisances felt like matters of life or death. Every time I had a doctor's appointment canceled on me, or every time I got stuck waiting for a decision on whether my latest visit would get covered by benefits, I would get sucked into a darkness within.
Serving our country was my dream. Returning home from service had become my nightmare.
I survived. People around me stepped up, forged connections and relationships with me, and supported me as I rebuilt my life. But many of our veterans are not as lucky. As a nation, we need to take luck out of the equation; we need to fight for veterans to get the kind of care, attention and support they not only need, but also deserve.
My own story continues. I joined America's Warrior Partnership, a nonprofit organization that fills the gaps in care from the VA and helps integrate veteran and non-veteran communities so that our returning vets can get healthcare, a stable job, a good home, a solid education and more. Helping my fellow veterans has become my greatest passion; being there for the veterans who need me is now my mission.
It isn't easy, and there is a lot that needs to be done. But it starts with attention to the struggles of today's veterans and with more people building real relationships with the veteran community.
I hope sharing my story sparks some change. And I hope that, this Memorial Day, we do more than just remember our veterans; we also take action to reward them for their sacrifices.
John Jones is chief of development at America's Warrior Partnership.
The views in this article are the writer's own.
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