A service member cry for help. 

Published May 28, 2015 by flashback80style

Reposting the service member story to support all of his efforts. Please read, support and share. 

My name is Nicholas Shavers. I am 12 year service member of the United States Navy(8 years active 3 years reserve), in which I am currently suffering from Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD), Attention Deficient Hyperactivity Disorder (ADHD), and Bi-Polar disorder due to chronic depression. Due to my involuntary separation from the active duty component of the United States Navy, I have felt out of place and disconnected with the civilian world. Realistically speaking, I have felt out of place within my clothes because I am no longer wearing the cloth of our nation, which is the uniform of a United States Sailor. My issue of PTSD, and Depression has stemmed from me being involuntary separated from active duty after 8 years of service.
​I thought I would be able to make the transition from service member to civilian as many of my friends and family members have. I was wrong. PTSD has affected me in the fact that I feel “militaryized”. I would liken it to the term of being institutionalized. All I can think and compare everything to, my life to, is when I was active. I became extremely depressed and could not focus on anything. I felt like my life was worthless, I felt like had no purpose. I turned to drinking heavily as that was the only thing to numb myself to my inner feelings, but in retrospect all it did was make me turn those feelings outwardly onto my family. I argued with my wife, yelled at my kids. I felt like I had no one to talk to about how I felt, I felt like no one understood what I was going thru mentally, except for Jim Bean, and Jack Daniels. I then turned to hanging out and partying, as this went hand in hand with drinking, and seemed to be another outlet, another way for me to deal with not being on active duty anymore. I have always heard people talk about their experiences with certain drugs as it was a way that made them feel good. Being that I was in search of ways to make me feel good and forget the pain, and feel numb to my emotions I started to have the thoughts and feelings of using drugs. The only reason in which I didn’t was because I am still attached to a reserve unit and I did not want to let go of my last remaining foothold of being a part of the military. With my mind being in the state in which it was in it was not long before I lost my first civilian job. It took me awhile before I was able to find another source of income, and that income came from me working at a labor ready institution earning $42.00 for a full day’s work, while my wife worked with a nagging case of sciatica in which she has to get constant epidurals, which ultimately led to her being released from her job. With that happening, it only made me climb deeper into myself as I blamed and took fault for all of the miss happenings that were going on in my household. The lights and water were constantly being shut off, our car was in repo status, we were not able to afford our house payments, which eventually led to our house being in foreclosure.

​In order to try and save my house and provide income for my family I took a job out of state in Pennsylvania. I took this job only with the sole intention of saving my house and providing income for my family. I had nowhere to live, and no viable transportation, but I took the job with that purpose. I did end up finding a place to lay my head while I was there which was at the VA Hospital but it was not the ideal living situation. I shared a room with a guy that was suffering from a serious case of schizophrenia, the showers were an open design in which there was no privacy, bodily fluid, feces, and blood, would be found on the bathroom floor, on the sinks, and in the shower on a daily basis. Also, since I did not have any transportation I was walking 7 miles to work each way in the dead of winter. I was up at 0400 each and every morning to make it to work on time. I walked in snow storms, ice storms, and freezing temperatures when other people were calling out of work on account of the weather, I was walking with the determination that I am doing this for my family. You could only imagine the kind of mind set I was placed in while trying to do what I needed to. I was drinking heavier than when I left Florida, just to keep sane but that didn’t stop me each morning from getting to work.

​All of this was in vain due to my contract ending four months later with the company I was employed with. I was now forced to return to Florida, without accomplishing the main mission in why I took the job. I was not able to get my foreclosure modification approved, due to insufficient employment period with the job.

​Although I am back in Florida and working, my house is still in the foreclosure process. The income in which I am bringing in is not nearly enough needed in order for me to get my modification approved. Hence why I am writing this letter and begging for support and any type of help that can be provided to me. I am laying down my pride and reaching out. I need this for my family. My children have suffered enough instability with military moves, this is home for them. I was told to follow Mathew 7:7 “Ask and it will be given to you; seek and you will find; knock and the door will be opened to you.


I started a GOFUNDME for the saving of my home you can find this at http://www.gofundme.com/cryingboots

You can also find more info on PTSD at http://www.ptsdusa.org



 Petty Officer 2nd Class Nicholas Shavers United States Navy


Sleep Voices..

Published May 25, 2015 by flashback80style

Petty Officer, Chief, Command, Orders,Launch, Battle, Deployment, Base, Uniform, Boots,Patch, Reenlistment, Quarters, Muster, LES, DECOM, Commanding Officer, Service Member. 

Petty Officer: Babe do you hear that?

Spouse: No babe, is everything ok?

Petty Officer: Fuck it, just go back to sleep. 

Spouse: Babe, tell me what’s wrong. So I can help you. 

Petty Officer: Nothing you wouldn’t understand.

Spouse: let me try. Let me see what I can do. 

Petty Officer: I just want a drink. I hate this Fucken life. 

Spouse: (scared) Ok, let’s get your pills. 

Petty Officer: Fuck those pills, fuck those doctors. They think that shit is suppose to help? Like I’m going to pop those shits and “poof” life is unicorns and Fucken gum drops. 

Spouse: Babe I know. Let’s just take the pills and calm down. 

Petty Officer: what part of “Fuck these pills do you not understand?” I’m not taking shit. Now leave me the fuck alone. Just get out of my face. (Drinking heavy) (panting back and forth) (face of severe anger)

Spouse: (scared) (alone) (silent) (emotional)

The broken words of pain, anger and frustration. No one feeling in return will help to heal the invisible demons. Although unseen by others, killing those internally that suffer from its presence. He is the dark cloud, the voice, the one in control. The sufferer brain is distorted and weak. He has been possessed and taken over by visions and feelings for which exist harder than others. Others may look on and see nothing. Ask what’s wrong? Who is he talking to? Why is he hurting so bad? No one knows. The answer is not in a book, not online, not in medication and sleeping reprograms it. Please sufferer come back to me. Come back to love where it is not weak. Let me hold you safely while you sleep. Your protected, I will watch and see. My clothing is not fatigues. For what you see is just me. I can change into all white. For I want to bring you peace. Please sufferer come back to me. I promise to make it easy to sleep. Take my hand and release what’s deep. Remember me? The gentle beauty. Please sufferer come back to me. 

The End


PTSD invisible pain…

Published May 25, 2015 by flashback80style

Sometimes symptoms appear seemingly out of the blue. … While everyone experiences PTSD differently, there are three main types of symptoms:Re-experiencing the traumatic event.

Avoiding reminders of the trauma.

Increased anxiety and emotional arousal.
This is the reality of it. But I live with someone experiencing this invisible severe pain. Although I can not see his trauma I feel his lash. I endure the sweeping of glass and blood shed from rage and constant mind fights towards himself. 

This is a serious situation and has caused several cases of suicide. It’s time we support those that are dealing with this every second of their lives. Help educate others and try to be a supporter. 

Every bit counts. 



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