After ending a tour in Afghanistan in 2013, Dionne Williamson felt emotionally numb. More warning signs appeared during several years of subsequent overseas postings.
“It’s like I lost me somewhere,” said Williamson, a Navy lieutenant commander who experienced disorientation, depression, memory loss and chronic exhaustion. “I went to my captain and said, ‘Sir, I would like help. Something’s mistaken.’”
Because the Pentagon seeks to confront spiraling suicide rates within the military ranks, Williamson’s experiences shine a lightweight on the realities for service members searching for mental health help. For many, simply acknowledging their difficulties might be intimidating. And what comes next might be frustrating and dispiriting.
Williamson, 46, eventually found stability through a monthlong hospitalization and a therapeutic program that comes with horseback riding. But she needed to fight for years to get the assistance she needed. “It’s a wonder how I made it through,” she said.
In March Defense Secretary Lloyd Austin announced the creation of an independent committee to review the military’s mental health and suicide prevention programs.
Based on Defense Department data, suicides amongst active-duty service members increased by greater than 40% between 2015 and 2020. The numbers jumped by 15% in 2020 alone. In longtime suicide hotspot postings resembling Alaska – service members and their families contend with extreme isolation and a harsh climate – the speed has doubled.
A 2021 study by the Cost of War Project concluded that since 9/11, 4 times as many service members and veterans have died by suicide as have perished in combat. The study detailed stress aspects particular to military life: “high exposure to trauma — mental, physical, moral, and sexual — stress and burnout, the influence of the military’s hegemonic masculine culture, continued access to guns, and the problem of reintegrating into civilian life.”
The Pentagon didn’t reply to repeated requests for comment. But Austin has publicly acknowledged that the Pentagon’s current mental health offerings — including a Defense Suicide Prevention Office established in 2011 — have proven insufficient.
“It’s imperative that we handle all our teammates and proceed to bolster that mental health and suicide prevention remain a key priority,” Austin wrote in March. “Clearly we’ve more work to do.”
Last yr the Army issued fresh guidelines to its commanders on handle mental health issues within the ranks, complete with briefing slides and a script. But daunting long-term challenges remain. Many soldiers fear the stigma of admitting to mental health issues inside the internal military culture of self-sufficiency. And those that seek help often find that stigma shouldn’t be only real, but compounded by bureaucratic obstacles.
Very like the difficulty of food insecurity in military families, a network of military-adjacent charitable organizations has tried to fill the gaps with quite a lot of programs and outreach efforts.
Some are purely recreational, resembling an annual fishing tournament in Alaska designed to supply fresh air and socialization for service members. Others are more focused on self-care, like an Armed Services YMCA program that gives free childcare in order that military parents can attend therapy sessions.
The situation in Alaska is especially dire. In January, after a string of suicides, Command Sgt. Maj. Phil Blaisdell addressed his soldiers in an emotional Instagram post. “When did suicide change into the reply,” he asked. “Please send me a DM if you happen to need something. Please …”
U.S. Sen. Lisa Murkowski, R-Alaska, said that while posting to Alaska is usually a dream for some service members, it’s a solitary nightmare for others that should be addressed.
“You’ve got to be listening to this if you see the statistics jump as they’re,” Murkowski said. “Without delay, you’ve got everybody. You’ve got the Joint Chiefs Alaska and saying, ‘Holy smokes, what’s happening up there?’”
The stresses of an Alaska posting are compounded by a shortage of on-the-ground therapists. During a visit to Joint Base Elmendorf-Richardson in Alaska earlier this yr, Army Secretary Christine Wormuth heard from base health care staff who say they’re understaffed, burned out and may’t see patients on a timely basis. If a soldier seeks help, they often should wait weeks for an appointment.
“We’ve got individuals who need our services and we will’t get to them,” one longtime counselor told Wormuth during a gathering. “We want staff and until we get them, we are going to proceed to have soldiers die.”
The annual Combat Fishing Tournament in Seward, Alaska, was formed to “get the children out of the barracks, get them off the bottom for the day and get them out of their heads,” said co-founder Keith Manternach.
The tournament, which was begun in 2007 and now involves greater than 300 service members, features a day of deep-water fishing followed by a celebratory banquet with prizes for the biggest catch, smallest catch and the one who gets the sickest.
“I believe there’s an enormous element of mental health to it,” Manternach said.
It’s not only in Alaska.
Sgt. Antonio Rivera, an 18-year veteran who accomplished three tours in Iraq and a yr at Guantanamo Bay in Cuba, freely acknowledges that he has serious PTSD.
“I do know that I would like help. There’s signs and I’ve waited long enough,” said Rivera, 48, who’s assigned to Fort Hood in Texas. “I don’t want my children to suffer due to me not going to get help.”
He’s doing yoga, but says he needs more. He’s reluctant to hunt help contained in the military.
“Personally I’d feel more comfortable having the ability to consult with someone outside,” he said. “It will allow me to open up so much more without having to be apprehensive about the way it’s going to affect my profession.”
Others who speak up say it’s a struggle to get assistance.
Despite the on-base presence of “tons of briefings and brochures on suicide and PTSD,” Williamson said she found herself fighting for years to get day without work and therapy.
Eventually, she entered a monthlong in-patient program in Arizona. When she returned, a therapist really useful equine-assisted therapy, which proved to be a breakthrough.
Now Williamson is a daily on the Cloverleaf Equine Center in Clifton, Virginia, where riding sessions might be combined with quite a lot of therapeutic practices and exercises. Working with horses has long been used as a form for therapy for individuals with physical or mental disabilities and youngsters diagnosed with autism. But in recent times, it has been embraced for helping service members with anxiety and PTSD.
“So as to have the option to work with horses, you must have the option to control your emotions. They convey through body language and energy,” said Shelby Morrison, Cloverleaf’s communications director. “They reply to energies around them. They reply to negativity, positivity, anxiety, excitement.”
Military clients, Morrison said, include “lots of anxiety, depression, PTSD. … We use the horse to get them out of their triggers.”
For Williamson, the regular riding sessions have helped stabilize her. She still struggles, and he or she said her long campaign for treatment has damaged her relationship with multiple superior officers. She’s currently on limited duty and isn’t sure if she’ll retire when she hits her 20-year anniversary in March.
Nevertheless, she says, the equine therapy has helped her feel optimistic for the primary time in recent memory.
“Now even when I can’t get off the bed, I ensure to come back here,” she said. “If I didn’t come here, I don’t know where I might even be.”
For those who are scuffling with suicidal thoughts or are experiencing a mental health crisis and live in Latest York City, you’ll be able to call 1-888-NYC-WELL without spending a dime and confidential crisis counseling. For those who live outside the five boroughs, you’ll be able to dial the 24/7 National Suicide Prevention hotline at 1-800-273-8255 or go to SuicidePreventionLifeline.org.
After ending a tour in Afghanistan in 2013, Dionne Williamson felt emotionally numb. More warning signs appeared during several years of subsequent overseas postings.
“It’s like I lost me somewhere,” said Williamson, a Navy lieutenant commander who experienced disorientation, depression, memory loss and chronic exhaustion. “I went to my captain and said, ‘Sir, I would like help. Something’s mistaken.’”
Because the Pentagon seeks to confront spiraling suicide rates within the military ranks, Williamson’s experiences shine a lightweight on the realities for service members searching for mental health help. For many, simply acknowledging their difficulties might be intimidating. And what comes next might be frustrating and dispiriting.
Williamson, 46, eventually found stability through a monthlong hospitalization and a therapeutic program that comes with horseback riding. But she needed to fight for years to get the assistance she needed. “It’s a wonder how I made it through,” she said.
In March Defense Secretary Lloyd Austin announced the creation of an independent committee to review the military’s mental health and suicide prevention programs.
Based on Defense Department data, suicides amongst active-duty service members increased by greater than 40% between 2015 and 2020. The numbers jumped by 15% in 2020 alone. In longtime suicide hotspot postings resembling Alaska – service members and their families contend with extreme isolation and a harsh climate – the speed has doubled.
A 2021 study by the Cost of War Project concluded that since 9/11, 4 times as many service members and veterans have died by suicide as have perished in combat. The study detailed stress aspects particular to military life: “high exposure to trauma — mental, physical, moral, and sexual — stress and burnout, the influence of the military’s hegemonic masculine culture, continued access to guns, and the problem of reintegrating into civilian life.”
The Pentagon didn’t reply to repeated requests for comment. But Austin has publicly acknowledged that the Pentagon’s current mental health offerings — including a Defense Suicide Prevention Office established in 2011 — have proven insufficient.
“It’s imperative that we handle all our teammates and proceed to bolster that mental health and suicide prevention remain a key priority,” Austin wrote in March. “Clearly we’ve more work to do.”
Last yr the Army issued fresh guidelines to its commanders on handle mental health issues within the ranks, complete with briefing slides and a script. But daunting long-term challenges remain. Many soldiers fear the stigma of admitting to mental health issues inside the internal military culture of self-sufficiency. And those that seek help often find that stigma shouldn’t be only real, but compounded by bureaucratic obstacles.
Very like the difficulty of food insecurity in military families, a network of military-adjacent charitable organizations has tried to fill the gaps with quite a lot of programs and outreach efforts.
Some are purely recreational, resembling an annual fishing tournament in Alaska designed to supply fresh air and socialization for service members. Others are more focused on self-care, like an Armed Services YMCA program that gives free childcare in order that military parents can attend therapy sessions.
The situation in Alaska is especially dire. In January, after a string of suicides, Command Sgt. Maj. Phil Blaisdell addressed his soldiers in an emotional Instagram post. “When did suicide change into the reply,” he asked. “Please send me a DM if you happen to need something. Please …”
U.S. Sen. Lisa Murkowski, R-Alaska, said that while posting to Alaska is usually a dream for some service members, it’s a solitary nightmare for others that should be addressed.
“You’ve got to be listening to this if you see the statistics jump as they’re,” Murkowski said. “Without delay, you’ve got everybody. You’ve got the Joint Chiefs Alaska and saying, ‘Holy smokes, what’s happening up there?’”
The stresses of an Alaska posting are compounded by a shortage of on-the-ground therapists. During a visit to Joint Base Elmendorf-Richardson in Alaska earlier this yr, Army Secretary Christine Wormuth heard from base health care staff who say they’re understaffed, burned out and may’t see patients on a timely basis. If a soldier seeks help, they often should wait weeks for an appointment.
“We’ve got individuals who need our services and we will’t get to them,” one longtime counselor told Wormuth during a gathering. “We want staff and until we get them, we are going to proceed to have soldiers die.”
The annual Combat Fishing Tournament in Seward, Alaska, was formed to “get the children out of the barracks, get them off the bottom for the day and get them out of their heads,” said co-founder Keith Manternach.
The tournament, which was begun in 2007 and now involves greater than 300 service members, features a day of deep-water fishing followed by a celebratory banquet with prizes for the biggest catch, smallest catch and the one who gets the sickest.
“I believe there’s an enormous element of mental health to it,” Manternach said.
It’s not only in Alaska.
Sgt. Antonio Rivera, an 18-year veteran who accomplished three tours in Iraq and a yr at Guantanamo Bay in Cuba, freely acknowledges that he has serious PTSD.
“I do know that I would like help. There’s signs and I’ve waited long enough,” said Rivera, 48, who’s assigned to Fort Hood in Texas. “I don’t want my children to suffer due to me not going to get help.”
He’s doing yoga, but says he needs more. He’s reluctant to hunt help contained in the military.
“Personally I’d feel more comfortable having the ability to consult with someone outside,” he said. “It will allow me to open up so much more without having to be apprehensive about the way it’s going to affect my profession.”
Others who speak up say it’s a struggle to get assistance.
Despite the on-base presence of “tons of briefings and brochures on suicide and PTSD,” Williamson said she found herself fighting for years to get day without work and therapy.
Eventually, she entered a monthlong in-patient program in Arizona. When she returned, a therapist really useful equine-assisted therapy, which proved to be a breakthrough.
Now Williamson is a daily on the Cloverleaf Equine Center in Clifton, Virginia, where riding sessions might be combined with quite a lot of therapeutic practices and exercises. Working with horses has long been used as a form for therapy for individuals with physical or mental disabilities and youngsters diagnosed with autism. But in recent times, it has been embraced for helping service members with anxiety and PTSD.
“So as to have the option to work with horses, you must have the option to control your emotions. They convey through body language and energy,” said Shelby Morrison, Cloverleaf’s communications director. “They reply to energies around them. They reply to negativity, positivity, anxiety, excitement.”
Military clients, Morrison said, include “lots of anxiety, depression, PTSD. … We use the horse to get them out of their triggers.”
For Williamson, the regular riding sessions have helped stabilize her. She still struggles, and he or she said her long campaign for treatment has damaged her relationship with multiple superior officers. She’s currently on limited duty and isn’t sure if she’ll retire when she hits her 20-year anniversary in March.
Nevertheless, she says, the equine therapy has helped her feel optimistic for the primary time in recent memory.
“Now even when I can’t get off the bed, I ensure to come back here,” she said. “If I didn’t come here, I don’t know where I might even be.”
For those who are scuffling with suicidal thoughts or are experiencing a mental health crisis and live in Latest York City, you’ll be able to call 1-888-NYC-WELL without spending a dime and confidential crisis counseling. For those who live outside the five boroughs, you’ll be able to dial the 24/7 National Suicide Prevention hotline at 1-800-273-8255 or go to SuicidePreventionLifeline.org.
