As we observe national PTSD Awareness Month this June, it is time to look closely at how we talk about trauma in the military community. At the Connecticut Veterans Bulletin, we believe that words matter. The language we use shapes how we view ourselves, how we treat our heroes, and how we approach healing.
That is why we choose to look at a familiar acronym through an alternative perspective.
For decades, the medical and military communities have used the term PTSD: Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder. But we ask a fundamental question: Is it really a disorder to be profoundly affected by the horrors of combat and trauma? Or is it, in truth, a disorder not to be?
To experience horror, grief, and life-threatening stress and to carry the weight of those experiences in your mind and body is not a sign of a broken mechanism. It is a sign of a functioning human soul. It is a completely natural human reaction to an entirely unnatural environment. When we append the word “disorder” to the end of a service member’s pain, we inadvertently internalize the blame. We tell them that they are the ones who are broken.
At CVB, we believe PTS (Post-Traumatic Stress) is a far more accurate and respectful term. The true disorder isn’t the human response to trauma; the true disorder is a rigid military culture and environment where that trauma is so often ignored, stigmatized, or swept under the rug.
Recognizing the Signs in Real Time
Our objective is to bring urgent awareness to the behavioral shifts that occur when our loved ones are suffering—both during active duty and after they transition back to civilian life. Trauma doesn’t always wait for a deployment to end; it unfolds in real time.
For families, friends, and battle buddies, recognizing the subtle and overt signs of concerning behavior can quite literally save a life. Keep a vigilant, loving eye out for these shifts:
- The Mask of Withdrawal: An active duty service member or returning veteran who suddenly isolates themselves, pulling away from spouses, children, and friends.
- Hypervigilance and Irritability: Being constantly on edge, easily startled, or reacting with uncharacteristic anger or impatience to everyday civilian stressors.
- The Echoes of Sleep: Chronic insomnia, night sweats, or vivid nightmares that leave them exhausted during the day.
- Emotional Numbing: A flat emotional response, where a loved one seems unable to feel joy, affection, or connection, acting almost as if they are “hollowed out.”
- Self-Medicating: A sudden or steady increase in alcohol consumption or substance use to quiet the noise in their mind.
If you are watching a loved one struggle to transition from the high-alert mindset of a combat zone to the quiet rhythm of the dinner table, know that they are not failing. They are navigating a profound physiological and emotional bridge.
The Systemic Barrier: The Fear of Coming Forward
We want our veterans and active service members to seek help. We want you to raise your hand. But we also acknowledge the massive, institutional elephant in the room.
For an active duty service member, the decision to seek help is rarely just a personal one. It is plagued by professional fear. There remains a deeply rooted, pervasive anxiety that putting your hand up will permanently derail your career, stall your promotions, flag your record, or strip you of your security clearance.
This fear is a major, tragic deterrent. Service members are trained to be invincible, and the institutional culture has historically reinforced the idea that admitting to emotional wounds is a career-ending vulnerability.
We must explicitly state that the Department of Defense has made strides to change policies—revising security clearance questionnaires (like the SF-86) to ensure that seeking care for trauma related to combat service does not automatically jeopardize a clearance. Yet, the cultural stigma remains fiercely alive on the ground. The fear of being passed over for a promotion or viewed differently by leadership keeps thousands suffering in a lonely, dangerous silence.
A Call to Action: Healing is a Sign of Strength
To our active duty service members and veterans: seeking help is not an admission of defeat. It is an act of tactical preservation. You would not attempt to march on a broken leg without a splint; you cannot expected to carry a wounded spirit without support.
To the military leadership and the community at large: we must dismantle the true disorder. We must foster an environment where treating PTS is viewed with the same urgency and respect as treating a physical wound sustained on the battlefield.
This June, let us honor our military community not just with flags and slogans, but with a cultural evolution. Let’s drop the “D.” Let’s acknowledge the stress, validate the pain, and build a world where seeking peace of mind is championed as the ultimate act of courage.
If you or a loved one are experiencing a mental health crisis, please remember you are never alone. You can reach the Veterans Crisis Line by dialing 988 and pressing 1, available 24/7.
I am not a veteran. I am a member of the Civil Air Patrol, the United States Air Force Auxiliary. But in 1991, personal loss brought me to a place I never left.
Over two decades later, that loss led me to the State Veterans Cemetery in Middletown, Connecticut, where I took on the coordination of Wreaths Across America — which grew into the largest and fastest growing veterans program in the state. I didn’t do it for recognition. I did it for them.
In 2016 I founded the Connecticut Veterans Bulletin. Not because I served, but because I believe those who did deserve to be honored, connected, and kept alive.
Twenty-two veterans die by suicide every day. I knew about that number before it became a hashtag. I knew it personally, long before anyone was talking about it.
This publication exists because that number is unacceptable. Because every veteran in Connecticut deserves to know someone gives a damn.
That someone is me.
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