Mending the Invisible Wounds of War

After weeks of edits, I’m proud to finally introduce the 2-minute book trailer for my memoir Thirty Days with My Father:  Finding Peace from Wartime PTSD. I have always been able to see this book as a movie, and have my fingers crossed that my publicist and I will sell film rights–and to the right producer.

It’s hard to believe my book will be published in just over a month. Sometimes I find myself just sitting around holding my galley copy for no apparent reason–or toting it around in my car.  This weekend I brought it with me for the 10-hour drive to my friend’s wedding in Louisiana. Sometimes I am afraid if I let it out of my sight, it will go away (and along with it, my dream to make a difference in the world.)

When the general public hears about soldiers coming back from war and the post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD) and traumatic brain injuries (TBI) they often experience, it’s hard for them to internalize what that means. When the media tells us that war can also affect family members of veterans, it’s hard to connect with such general statements.

But if I told you a story–a story about when I was a little girl, and how I hid away from my father in my bedroom closet because I was afraid of the hollowness in his eyes, the thick pads on which he slept to absorb the sweat from his war nightmares, and the way he stormed through the house, rifle slung over his shoulder like an infant, on one of the hundreds of occasions when he threatened to blow his brains out, then suddenly, I have your attention. I have created an image for you through words, and through story-telling, perhaps I have grabbed your interest in a way statistics or general terms never could.  As Tim O’Brien might say, maybe I’ve made you “feel something in your stomach.”

In hearing my family’s story, I hope you begin to care more about veterans and their families. I hope you care so much you tell everyone you can about what happened to us.  I hope you tell all your friends and family about this book because you can’t stop thinking about it, or that little girl hiding away in her closet, wishing so desperately she’d die young if this was what it felt like to live. I hope you care so much you take action. It’s the only way the invisible injuries of war will stop wounding throughout generations–if we all end our silence.

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5 Responses to Mending the Invisible Wounds of War

  1. To articulate what it really means to live with a soldier- father and the consequences of post traumatic stress on the family is so important. Thanks for giving us a voice.

  2. Symira Tucker ******* says:

    Christal, thank you so much for having the courage to put it all in writing. The few times in my life I tried to talk about it I was labeled as ‘weak’. The world needs to know the damages of war.

  3. Jean Hamilton says:

    My Brother just wrote and published a book on how to deal with PTSD. He is a Vietnam vet, helicopter pilot who was shot down 4 times. The name of his book is “Merry Christmas and Happy PTSD” It is a good read, I will ordering your book. Congratulations, it is about time that these books are written. I was a much younger sibling when my brother came home and I was scared to death. BTW, it is a “HOW TO” deal with, and become a productive human being after war. He is an amazing dad, husband and citizen.

  4. Thank you for giving a voice to the children, who had a stranger come back with their Dad’s face and voice.

  5. Trailer does not show. But the writing intrigues me.

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