tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4503384545506191816Sun, 25 Jan 2026 11:07:16 +0000armyoif101st abn13 StoplossAt War New York Timescombat veterangi billiraqptsdveteranveterans affairs101st airborne254x5Bill SimonCapital Crescent TrailEric ShinsekiGary ProfitHuffington PostI hate morningJason Davis 13stoploss new york timesJoining the workforceNYT At WarPost-9/11 GI BillSecretary ShinsekiSergeant Jason Jermi Vance US Army 101st Airborne 13F Forward Observer Fister 1/320 2/502 FISTThe New York Times At War ebookVAVote VetsWal-MartWal-Mart Welcome HomeWelcome HomeWork Opportunity Tax Creditagingalcoholangerarizonabelieveinfilmbirthdaycalifornia department of motor vehiclescasondra williamscollegecombatdc metrodc metrobusdepressiondmvdrivers licensefilm photographygoing back to schoolgovernment shutdownhomeless veteranhonor flighthonor flight wwii memorialhud-vashjason davisjim dao at war blogjournalismlarge formatlensblrmaryland vehicle administrationmedicinemetromichelle bachmannmilitarymvaobituaryoefoperation iraqi freedomphotographypost 9-11 GI Billpost traumatic stress disorderretroactive stop loss special pay claims summaryriproad tripscienceshutdownstoplosstechnologyveteran educationveteran transitionveteran unemploymentwhat I've learnedwwii memorial13 Stoplossnoreply@blogger.com (Anonymous)Blogger20125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4503384545506191816.post-5054345026087761579Fri, 01 Aug 2014 01:33:00 +00002014-07-31T18:33:54.549-07:00Links to Words and Photos Live Here<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br />
Hi.<br />
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I'm still here. Sometimes.<br />
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Some updates:<br />
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In late June, I interviewed a student veteran using his Post-9/11 GI Bill to attend the same university now that his veteran grandfather had attended after his service in WWII. <a href="; target="_blank">It's a neat blog story</a>, despite a few awkward stylistic and word-choice edits that were imposed on me. I got that story while photographing VA's celebration of the 70th anniversary of the GI Bill at a George Washington University-sponsored <a href="; target="_blank">veterans roundtable</a> discussion with <a href="; target="_blank">then-acting Secretary of Veterans Affairs, Sloan Gibson</a>.<br />
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In fact, I've been pretty busy with the camera in the last few months. In early June, I photographed a <a href="; target="_blank">70th anniversary of D-Day event at the National WWII Memorial</a> in Washington, DC. For Memorial Day, <a href="; target="_blank">I hiked Arlington National Cemetery</a> with my digital and 4x5 film camera. In March, <a href="; target="_blank">I shot a Student Veterans of America initiative</a>, and in January, I wandered around the Washington, DC, convention center for <a href="; target="_blank">the Hiring Our Heroes Job Fair</a>. And in two weeks, I'll be joining a special FedGov social media summit at the White House.<br />
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Of course, I've stayed consistently busy elsewhere. I love the portability and ease of transaction of Instagram. <a href="; target="_blank">I use it daily to showcase my personal photography projects and other mundane life events</a>. I'm slowly getting back into updating my <a href="; target="_blank">Flickr</a> and <a href="; target="_blank">Tumblr</a> pages, for various reasons, and gasp! <a href="; target="_blank">What's this new Medium thing</a>? And of course, you can always find me on <a href="; target="_blank">Twitter</a>.<br />
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Lastly, I'm excited to announce that in the fall I'll begin working on my <a href="; target="_blank">MA in Writing (concentration in Nonfiction) at Johns Hopkins University</a>. That's a big commitment. I have a lot of words swimming around in this 8-bit brain that need telling, and I miss the creativity and inspiration that come with deadlines and assignments and brainstorming and being around a community of professionals. I kinda need that right now.<br />
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So, yep, that's that.2014/07/links-to-words-and-photos-live-here.htmlnoreply@blogger.com (Anonymous)1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4503384545506191816.post-9106190607855118614Fri, 01 Aug 2014 00:50:00 +00002014-07-31T17:50:35.308-07:00101st abn13 StoplossAt War New York Timescombat veteranReactions to the Turmoil in Iraq From Those Who Served - The New York Times<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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In early June, The New York Times' <i>At War</i> editor, Jim Dao, asked me and some other combat veterans for a few words on what/how we felt about ISIS as it began its parade through northern and western Iraq.<br />
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<a href="; target="_blank">My contribution is at the end</a>.2014/07/reactions-to-turmoil-in-iraq-from-those.htmlnoreply@blogger.com (Anonymous)0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4503384545506191816.post-4181466585401377304Thu, 27 Feb 2014 04:20:00 +00002014-07-31T17:53:04.006-07:0025armybirthdaycollegeiraqjournalismoifstoplosswhat I've learnedLive to Remember<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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I was an old college student, but a small handful of my journalism friends meant as much to me as those I served with in combat. Recently, my closest college friend included me in an email 25th birthday request to share my experiences at 25, to share what I've learned. I think it's applicable for this space, so here's my response:<br />
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In the grand scheme of things, 25 was a great year for me: I came home alive. Like, for real, finally home and done and out alive. And I came home to a beautiful wife and a healthy baby boy. But you know me--I'm not exactly a look-on-the-bright-side-of-life kind of guy (probably due in some part because of what I've seen and done). And that would be dishonest, because really, 25 was a pretty lousy year for me.<br />
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I can say that from the vantage point that that year was... oh god... was it really almost 8 years ago? I'm farther removed from 25 than the amount of time I spent <i>in</i> the Army, the time I looked back on when I <i>was</i> 25.<br />
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Twenty-five was the year that I lost; army had me by the balls, stop lossed, while Robyn endured pregnancy alone, at home in California. My family and friends wrote Nancy Pelosi on my behalf. Four months later, absent Dad later, when correspondence from her office reached me in Baghdad, I learned of losing, which led somewhat to learning how to lose. That's an important thing to do, losing. There's probably a 12-step program in there somewhere to reflect on how I lost, and this pretty much consumed the entirety of my 25th year. I guess that's sort of contextual foreplay.<br />
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So what did I learn? Here's an informal list:<br />
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I learned how to wrestle, Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu style. I learned how to use one's blouse to suffocate an adversary in hand-to-hand combat, and how to snap an elbow in 3 moves in 10 seconds. I learned that cute, blue-eyed, blonde-haired Eastern-European immigrants are fucking fierce. This also taught me how others perceived me, my size, my strength, my ability: I was only slightly bigger, stronger, and more able than her--a surprise to those around me.<br />
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After working with Military Police, I learned how to swipe my fingers through a man's asscrack, and along, between, and underneath a woman's breasts during a frisk, to ensure that myself and those I worked with were safe from potentially smuggled weapons into a controlled environment.<br />
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As someone who grew up in a small private school that never had gym class, I learned that group showers and body shame are not cultural or learned--they're just always uncomfortable. To be less cryptic, I learned that some penises are small, some penises are sheathed, some are multicolored, and some just sort of curve on their own. My observation is that Iraqi's compulsively smile when they're nervous. Most people in general are nervous when you shove an M4 carbine barrel into their throats demanding they get naked to wash their fucking smellyass bodies.<br />
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Speaking of showers, and to be even more cryptic, there's only one reason why a male soldier spends 20 minutes in a shower. But, changing the subject inside the shower and not the subject of showers in general, I learned that Iraqi's don't really do those. Also, they stand and squat over the holes inside a Porta-John and then wipe their asses with their left hand, which is why they go to the bathroom with a water bottle.<br />
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Excuse the Army speak, but no, Iraqi men are not "fucking faggots" for holding hands when they walk down the street, or for speaking to male friends mere inches from the other's face. That said, I can confirm that in some circles, the older male Iraqi thought goes like this: boys are toys, and girls are for babies. It's why we separated teens from the adults inside our holding facility.<br />
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I picked up some Arabic, and those I encountered picked up some English. The hard part was not knowing who to trust (we were not "allowed" to speak to them, only to command them)--the "dumb grunts on the line" that I trained with and used to work with, or the aging English professor they brought in who spoke longingly of and quoted from great literature and remembered the street corners of familiar places and cities he had traveled with his family in America who had perhaps maybe mistakenly been in the wrong place with bomb-making materials at the wrong time?<br />
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Concerning showers, again, the mobile PX sure carried a lot of conditioner, lotion, baby wipes, and baby powder, relative to other stuff, like candy and DVD players and phone cards. <br />
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I learned a great deal about exercise, nutrition, supplementation, training others in these, and also injury and recovery from injury. I had not yet given up on looking like what I imagined a manly man looks like (broad shoulders, sticky-outy chest relative to stomach). Still, I'd love to a) look like that again, or 2) have the free time to work out like that again.<br />
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I actually learned this in 2003, but it applied to 2005-2006, too: if the chow hall serves you lobster, steak, or lobster and steak, then BOHICA.<br />
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Deployments are like Vegas, except nothing stays where it should have stayed: The cute, blue-eyed blonde immigrant from Eastern Europe was fucking the Indian American guy, the hep+ new guy in my squad was fucking the MP sergeant; the middle-aged Peruvian immigrant wanted to fuck the young, lesbian MP private, the blue-eyed, smooth-skinned African American admin specialist was sucking off one of the mortarmen, and worst of all, one of the married First Sergeant's was caught fucking one of his soldiers. I ached for my wife, the only woman I have ever been with, but offer many thanks to the husband of some church group's wife who shoved a concealed Playboy at the bottom of a "Dear Soldier" care package I received.<br />
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Fort Campbell, Kentucky, home of the 101st Airborne, is home to the Air Assault School, a helicopter-rappelling army division. I'd known the difference in sound between various helos, but living on BIAP for a year, I learned the difference in take off's. Long rotor warm up and hover good, instant rotor on takeoff holy shit please let them live and don't let them be anyone I know.<br />
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Dave got blown up in the first month. He was my direct replacement when I got moved off the line. His wife was pregnant, 6 months behind Robyn. <br />
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I don't know how, but Dave made it.<br />
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Others didn't make it. Have you ever heard a bugle in open air? Or worse, heard a bugle from a cheap CD player? SSG SO-and-SO, POST! SFC Whats-His-Name, REPORT! SPC Goddamnit, please stop crying! Silence, GET RID OF IT. GET THOSE BOOTS OUT OF HERE. LOCK THAT WEAPON IN THE ARMS ROOM. THIS GODDAMN COUNTRY NEVER HAS ANY WIND EXCEPT TO RUSTLE THE DOG TAGS HANGING FROM A RIFLE ATOP THE BOOTS IN THE SAND OF THE SOLDIER NO LONGER WITH US.<br />
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Ultimate sacrifice, Amen, comms blackout for 36 hours. No AT&T phone booth, no internet cafe, no nothing until the spouse or family has been notified. Lord God Buddha Allah, please never let that be Robyn, now mortified by the 36-hour silence and unanswered, unseen, not yet received emails.<br />
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There's more, alot more, but eventually an airplane, a layover somewhere in between there and here, and finally, a landing on American soil. Noise. Applause. General knocking on the plane door. Speech. Literal kissing the grooved, cement ground. Marching. Hangar filled with waiting family and spouses. Ceremony. Formation. Rule and order. Smell of perfume, massive erection. Signs welcoming home. My 14-month old son. I'm in soldier clothes, how do I Dad a son I haven't met?<br />
<br />
Then goodbye, fuckers. See you in five. Then booze, and food, lots of food, lots of bedroom, and lots of TV.<br />
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Did I make it?<br />
<br />
Ninety days later, at midnight a few days before Thanksgiving, I walked away. No one told me where to go, where to be, what to wear, how to act. I just signed my name, ending it all. And it was done. No goodbye, no instruction. Hands washed, done and gone, goodbye. I was outside the bracket. No on told me how to walk away. When I got outside the bracket, I simply did it on my own. As much as I didn't want to, as hurt as I was for my wife and son, I did look back. It was dark and quiet. No one noticed. The army moved on. I got in the car. I drove away.<br />
<br />
At 25, I worked to forget, learned to move on. At almost 33, I struggle to remember.<br />
<br />
<br />
So. [Friend]. Live to remember.2014/02/live-to-remember.htmlnoreply@blogger.com (Anonymous)0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4503384545506191816.post-4532376070953094014Sat, 16 Nov 2013 00:16:00 +00002013-11-19T20:50:29.047-08:00Jason Davis 13stoploss new york timesjim dao at war blogNYT At WarThe New York Times At War ebookThe New York Times' At War eBook <table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Summer 2003, Mosul, Iraq</td></tr>
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<div>
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Tonight I'm proud to announce that an eBook I was asked to contribute to <a href="; target="_blank">has been published by The New York Times</a>. It is now available for purchase at Amazon for your kindle or iDevice.<br />
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<br /></div>
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If you follow OEF/OIF military writing, you've no doubt heard of Jim Dao's <a href="; target="_blank">At War</a> blog. <i>At War</i> has for several years featured some of the very best up-and-coming writing on my generation's wars--from those who have fought on the tangled front lines or from those who have been affected by those who have. It's a huge honor for me to have contributed, and I can't possibly express how thankful I am for the opportunity. </div>
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And now... an anecdote!</div>
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A few more than a few years ago, I received an email from Jim Dao of The New York Times. He was <a href="; target="_blank">writing a story about the Army's "stop loss" compensation bill/act/thing</a>, and he'd found or been led to my old blog of the same title. He wanted to know how I felt about the bill, and whether I thought the compensation morally justified the act in the first place. </div>
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The story appeared while I was studying photography in Community College, and shortly before/around the same time that I transferred into the Literary Journalism program at UC Irvine. It was my second interview as a result of my hardly-inspiring "milblog," but it was exciting to kind of see how that process worked behind the scenes and then later see the finished product. </div>
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Fast forward a couple years more than a few, I had just got home from <a href="2013/03/orval.html" target="_blank">my grandfather's funeral</a>. He was my roommate--me and the Missus had been taking care of him--and it affected us pretty hard. In my inbox that afternoon, I found an email from Dao. This time, he asked whether I could contribute to the tenth anniversary of the US invasion of Iraq.</div>
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<br /></div>
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I felt like I had won the lotto. My own byline at The New York Times! If even just a blog, it didn't matter. Grandpa would have been so proud. </div>
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<br /></div>
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When I submitted a too-long piece to Dao at the end of the weekend, it came back to me with a few edits, some minor fuck-fuck language removed, and a note from Dao: "You write good."</div>
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<br /></div>
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"Thanks," I wrote back, "but I want to write gooder."</div>
2013/11/the-new-york-times-at-war-ebook.htmlnoreply@blogger.com (Anonymous)0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4503384545506191816.post-3062760671308714113Fri, 08 Nov 2013 23:13:00 +00002013-11-08T16:52:44.221-08:00casondra williamshomeless veteranhud-vashjason davisThe Invisible Monster: One Homeless Female Veteran's Journey to Take Back Her Life<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption">Army Veteran Casondra Williams</td></tr>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #404040; font-family: Roboto, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #404040; font-family: Roboto, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">Casondra Williams looks away when she speaks of the silent killer. She doesn't know when her invisible monster will attack, only that it has, that it will again, and that she doesn't have to let it win.</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #404040; font-family: Roboto, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"> </span><span style="background-color: white; color: #404040; font-family: Roboto, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"><br /></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #404040; font-family: Roboto, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #404040; font-family: Roboto, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"><br /></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #404040; font-family: Roboto, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #404040; font-family: Roboto, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">Williams, 44, is sitting in a chair on the sixth floor of an office building staring at the impenetrable wall of a cloudy, gray building across a narrow alley. She grabs a tissue, blots her eyes, and speaks with the disciplined caution of one who has been forced, over time, to shut down in order to avoid getting hurt. She thinks about her struggle—the destructive thoughts, the personal vices, the five years she was alone and homeless—and the long suffering in silence from the abuses she endured in the army. It's a trigger, the memory of trauma, she explains, that brings her back to the places she's longed to forget. </span><span style="background-color: white; color: #404040; font-family: Roboto, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"> </span><span style="background-color: white; color: #404040; font-family: Roboto, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"><br /></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #404040; font-family: Roboto, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #404040; font-family: Roboto, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"><br /></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #404040; font-family: Roboto, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #404040; font-family: Roboto, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">Her thoughts take her back to Fort Jackson when she was in Advanced Individual Training. It’s 1993 and she’s 24 years old. Another soldier had repeatedly sexually harassed her. Williams went to her female drill sergeant and reported the incidents. Though she feels the matter had been effectively resolved, there were other traumatic incidents later in her career that weren’t. Williams’ silent killer, her invisible monster, was borne of those events.</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #404040; font-family: Roboto, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"> </span><span style="background-color: white; color: #404040; font-family: Roboto, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"><br /></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #404040; font-family: Roboto, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #404040; font-family: Roboto, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"><br /></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #404040; font-family: Roboto, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #404040; font-family: Roboto, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">“I was ashamed for a long time,” she says. “I didn’t talk to anyone about what had happened to me [in the army].”</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #404040; font-family: Roboto, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"> </span><span style="background-color: white; color: #404040; font-family: Roboto, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"><br /></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #404040; font-family: Roboto, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #404040; font-family: Roboto, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"><br /></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #404040; font-family: Roboto, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #404040; font-family: Roboto, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">When she stares out the window, Williams’ eyes grow dark. In her thoughts, she fast-forwards to her time at Fort Hood, when another soldier from her unit sexually assaulted her. She had reported what happened, but was told to keep her mouth shut. The threat of further assault remained, and she was continually harassed for being a whistle blower. That’s when Williams took to self-isolation, often shunning after-duty socialization, a tactic she felt was a coping mechanism for survival. </span><span style="background-color: white; color: #404040; font-family: Roboto, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"> </span><span style="background-color: white; color: #404040; font-family: Roboto, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"><br /></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #404040; font-family: Roboto, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #404040; font-family: Roboto, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"><br /></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #404040; font-family: Roboto, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #404040; font-family: Roboto, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">“I felt like I was no longer part of the team,” she says. “They made me feel like I was the enemy. It felt like I was thrown away. After that [assault], there’s no way to again feel like part of that team.” </span><span style="background-color: white; color: #404040; font-family: Roboto, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"> </span><span style="background-color: white; color: #404040; font-family: Roboto, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"><br /></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #404040; font-family: Roboto, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #404040; font-family: Roboto, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"><br /></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #404040; font-family: Roboto, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #404040; font-family: Roboto, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"><br /></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #404040; font-family: Roboto, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #404040; font-family: Roboto, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"><br /></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #404040; font-family: Roboto, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #404040; font-family: Roboto, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">The invisible monster first struck in April 2001, not long after Williams separated from the army. She'd left active duty after 8 years in uniform for a civilian front desk job at the Pentagon, a job she held for almost 3 years until succumbing to what she calls were "personal issues" that affected her performance. It was the nightmares at first, then flashbacks, irritability, and then... she trails off.</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #404040; font-family: Roboto, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #404040; font-family: Roboto, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"><br /></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #404040; font-family: Roboto, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #404040; font-family: Roboto, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"><br /></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #404040; font-family: Roboto, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #404040; font-family: Roboto, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">“It was a battle everyday,” she says. “I kept everyone at a distance. I couldn’t focus or interact with coworkers—I couldn’t complete basic tasks. I couldn’t communicate with my supervisor. Back then, there was no known PTSD condition. I was irritable all the time because I never knew when the invisible monster would attack, or why.”</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #404040; font-family: Roboto, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"> </span><span style="background-color: white; color: #404040; font-family: Roboto, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"><br /></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #404040; font-family: Roboto, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #404040; font-family: Roboto, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"><br /></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #404040; font-family: Roboto, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #404040; font-family: Roboto, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">Williams left the Pentagon in 2003. Not long after, she lost her apartment. She bounced from temp job to temp job, but she could barely function. She was frustrated, panicked, and alone. </span><span style="background-color: white; color: #404040; font-family: Roboto, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"> </span><span style="background-color: white; color: #404040; font-family: Roboto, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"><br /></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #404040; font-family: Roboto, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #404040; font-family: Roboto, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"><br /></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #404040; font-family: Roboto, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #404040; font-family: Roboto, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">“It was scary,” she says. “There were a lot of days where I took a suitcase to work, not sure where I was going to sleep that night.”</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #404040; font-family: Roboto, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"> </span><span style="background-color: white; color: #404040; font-family: Roboto, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"><br /></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #404040; font-family: Roboto, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #404040; font-family: Roboto, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"><br /></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #404040; font-family: Roboto, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #404040; font-family: Roboto, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">For the next three years, Williams was homeless and mostly jobless. She had stayed in multiple group therapy houses in Virginia and Maryland, some of them catering to domestic violence cases, or to various hotels and houses of male acquaintances. None of them ever worked out or could provide her the safety and stability she needed to get back on her feet.</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #404040; font-family: Roboto, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"> </span><span style="background-color: white; color: #404040; font-family: Roboto, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"><br /></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #404040; font-family: Roboto, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #404040; font-family: Roboto, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"><br /></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #404040; font-family: Roboto, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #404040; font-family: Roboto, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">“There were days where I had a roof, but no food,” she says. </span><span style="background-color: white; color: #404040; font-family: Roboto, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"> </span><span style="background-color: white; color: #404040; font-family: Roboto, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"><br /></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #404040; font-family: Roboto, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #404040; font-family: Roboto, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"><br /></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #404040; font-family: Roboto, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #404040; font-family: Roboto, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">Finally, in 2006, Williams took what she felt was the biggest chance of her life: She went to the Veterans Affairs hospital in Washington, D.C. She was broke, hungry, emotionally scarred, and oblivious to the resources and benefits VA could help her with. </span><span style="background-color: white; color: #404040; font-family: Roboto, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"> </span><span style="background-color: white; color: #404040; font-family: Roboto, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"><br /></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #404040; font-family: Roboto, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #404040; font-family: Roboto, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"><br /></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #404040; font-family: Roboto, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #404040; font-family: Roboto, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">“I was already at bottom, and I was desperate,” she says. “I wasn’t feeling well. I was sick—and that sucks. Being sick is one thing, but being sick and on the streets is just so much worse. I didn’t even know what VA could do for me, but I walked in anyway.”</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #404040; font-family: Roboto, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"> </span><span style="background-color: white; color: #404040; font-family: Roboto, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"><br /></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #404040; font-family: Roboto, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #404040; font-family: Roboto, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"><br /></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #404040; font-family: Roboto, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #404040; font-family: Roboto, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">For Williams, the chance paid off. </span><span style="background-color: white; color: #404040; font-family: Roboto, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"> </span><span style="background-color: white; color: #404040; font-family: Roboto, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"><br /></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #404040; font-family: Roboto, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #404040; font-family: Roboto, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"><br /></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #404040; font-family: Roboto, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #404040; font-family: Roboto, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">“That’s how I found out I had PTSD,” she exclaimed. “Before I went to the VA, I never connected the dots that the way I had been feeling—all the nightmares and flashbacks and anxiety and inability to function—all of that was related to what happened to me in the army.</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #404040; font-family: Roboto, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"> </span><span style="background-color: white; color: #404040; font-family: Roboto, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"><br /></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #404040; font-family: Roboto, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #404040; font-family: Roboto, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"><br /></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #404040; font-family: Roboto, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #404040; font-family: Roboto, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">“It was difficult to talk about,” she admits. “Even today.”</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #404040; font-family: Roboto, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"> </span><span style="background-color: white; color: #404040; font-family: Roboto, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"><br /></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #404040; font-family: Roboto, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #404040; font-family: Roboto, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"><br /></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #404040; font-family: Roboto, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #404040; font-family: Roboto, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">A month later, Williams was put in contact with someone from HUD-VASH, the Department of Housing and Urban Development – VA Supportive Housing program, a joint effort between HUD and VA to move Veterans and their families out of homelessness and into permanent housing. Until her Housing Choice Voucher was approved, VA arranged for Williams to stay at a homeless shelter in Virginia. </span><span style="background-color: white; color: #404040; font-family: Roboto, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"> </span><span style="background-color: white; color: #404040; font-family: Roboto, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"><br /></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #404040; font-family: Roboto, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #404040; font-family: Roboto, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"><br /></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #404040; font-family: Roboto, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #404040; font-family: Roboto, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">“It wasn’t a picnic,” she says, “but it gave me the motivation to get out of that situation.”</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #404040; font-family: Roboto, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"> </span><span style="background-color: white; color: #404040; font-family: Roboto, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"><br /></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #404040; font-family: Roboto, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #404040; font-family: Roboto, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"><br /></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #404040; font-family: Roboto, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #404040; font-family: Roboto, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">While there, Williams met other Veterans in similar predicaments. Though she was hesitant to tell her own story, she grew confident in hearing others tell theirs. She soon became a resident adviser, and enjoyed helping other Vets. She even managed to save a little bit of pay. </span><span style="background-color: white; color: #404040; font-family: Roboto, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"> </span><span style="background-color: white; color: #404040; font-family: Roboto, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"><br /></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #404040; font-family: Roboto, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #404040; font-family: Roboto, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"><br /></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #404040; font-family: Roboto, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #404040; font-family: Roboto, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">“Not much, though” she adds, with a glimmer of a smile lighting up her face. </span><span style="background-color: white; color: #404040; font-family: Roboto, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"> </span><span style="background-color: white; color: #404040; font-family: Roboto, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"><br /></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #404040; font-family: Roboto, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #404040; font-family: Roboto, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"><br /></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #404040; font-family: Roboto, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #404040; font-family: Roboto, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">With that newfound confidence, Williams began a slow return to normal life. She began volunteering at the VADC Hospital—and when she was ready, she started video recording her own story, uploading the videos to YouTube, a way for her to reach out and connect with other MST survivors. </span><span style="background-color: white; color: #404040; font-family: Roboto, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"> </span><span style="background-color: white; color: #404040; font-family: Roboto, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"><br /></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #404040; font-family: Roboto, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #404040; font-family: Roboto, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"><br /></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #404040; font-family: Roboto, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #404040; font-family: Roboto, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">“Don’t isolate yourself,” she warns. “It’s easy to hide. It’s easy to push people away.”</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #404040; font-family: Roboto, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"> </span><span style="background-color: white; color: #404040; font-family: Roboto, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"><br /></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #404040; font-family: Roboto, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #404040; font-family: Roboto, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"><br /></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #404040; font-family: Roboto, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #404040; font-family: Roboto, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"><br /></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #404040; font-family: Roboto, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #404040; font-family: Roboto, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"><br /></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #404040; font-family: Roboto, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #404040; font-family: Roboto, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">Today, Williams is still in the HUD-VASH voucher program, but she’s working to get into her first home. To get out of the apartment—away from the TV and self-imposed isolation—she joined a gym. And she’s also using her Chapter 31 Vocational Rehabilitation and Employment education benefits. She’s enrolled at University of Maryland University College, where’s she’s studying Cyber Security and Legal Studies. </span><span style="background-color: white; color: #404040; font-family: Roboto, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"> </span><span style="background-color: white; color: #404040; font-family: Roboto, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"><br /></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #404040; font-family: Roboto, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #404040; font-family: Roboto, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"><br /></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #404040; font-family: Roboto, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #404040; font-family: Roboto, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">She’s still adapting, still battling the invisible monster. </span><span style="background-color: white; color: #404040; font-family: Roboto, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"> </span><span style="background-color: white; color: #404040; font-family: Roboto, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"><br /></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #404040; font-family: Roboto, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #404040; font-family: Roboto, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"><br /></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #404040; font-family: Roboto, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #404040; font-family: Roboto, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">“PTSD encouraged me to build my own prison, and that was the nightmare. I thought I had to protect myself from everyone. I was in survival mode. I’m not out of the woods yet, but I’m getting there. I don’t want to isolate. I’m not going to feed it [the invisible monster]. </span><span style="background-color: white; color: #404040; font-family: Roboto, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"> </span><span style="background-color: white; color: #404040; font-family: Roboto, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"><br /></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #404040; font-family: Roboto, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #404040; font-family: Roboto, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"><br /></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #404040; font-family: Roboto, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #404040; font-family: Roboto, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">“I’m taking my life back.”</span>2013/11/the-invisible-monster-one-homeless.htmlnoreply@blogger.com (Anonymous)0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4503384545506191816.post-7084926561799022350Sun, 06 Oct 2013 13:42:00 +00002013-10-06T06:42:46.815-07:004x5believeinfilmCapital Crescent Trailfilm photographylarge formatlensblrphotographyFungi on the Capital Crescent Trail<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style=&quo