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Don’t Give Up on Mental Health Treatment

Capt. Anthony A. Arita, Deployment Health Clinical Center director

Capt. Anthony A. Arita, Deployment Health Clinical Center director

Posted by Myron J. Goodman, DCoE Public Affairs on May 14, 2015

It’s not a sprint, it’s a marathon. If you’ve had a coach, personal trainer, inspirational teacher, or a really motivational friend, there is a good chance you heard them say something similar. Most likely, they said this to you because they wanted to encourage you to keep working toward your goal – whatever it was.

A senior military leader, and psychologist, has a similar hope – he wants service members to stick with mental health treatment and give it a chance to work even if they don’t see immediate progress.

According to Capt. Anthony A. Arita, Deployment Health Clinical Center director and experienced clinical neuropsychologist, people who give up on treatment too soon rob themselves of the benefits of care. Many forms of psychotherapy require 10 to 12 sessions to achieve noticeable symptom reduction. If medications are prescribed, it can take several weeks to find the right medications and therapeutic dosages.

If it’s not working, talk to your provider

If you don’t think your treatment is working, or if you are unclear about your treatment options, share your concerns with your provider. You should feel comfortable asking your provider to explain your diagnosis, and treatment plan, in a way you understand.

“For treatment to have the most impact, it’s important patients actively participate in the recovery process, follow their treatment plan – including taking medications as prescribed and completing therapy homework – and meet with their providers regularly with limited breaks in care,” Arita said.

Don’t expect a quick fix; recovery takes time, especially when patients have co-occurring conditions, such as alcohol or substance abuse, traumatic brain injury or chronic pain.

“Most people who persevere with treatment can expect very positive results,” Arita said.

It sounds like a lot of work; maybe I don’t really need it

If you think ignoring your medical conditions will make them go away, think again. Not taking your health seriously or choosing to do nothing may make things worse.

“Some people assume that forgoing medical treatment for severe psychological conditions, like posttraumatic stress disorder (PTSD), won’t matter – this is simply not true,” Arita said. “Without proper care any medical condition can get worse and negatively affect many aspects of a person’s life.”

It may affect my career

Some service members don’t seek treatment because they fear it will hurt their careers. Although it is true that a severe medical condition — physical or psychological — may affect a person’s fitness for duty, according to Arita, participating in treatment or receiving a mental health diagnosis doesn’t automatically impact one’s status.

“The important thing to know is that treatment does work, so keep at it,” Arita said. “In most cases, people recover from symptoms and return to optimal readiness – and that’s what we really want for our service members.”

Not sure where to go for help? The DCoE Outreach Center is available 24/7 to connect you with resources and help in your area. Call 866-966-1020, email resources@dcoeoutreach.org or live chat at realwarriors.net/livechat.

Twitter:
Recovery requires persistence: don’t give up on your #mentalhealth treatment #MHAmonth

Facebook:
“Most people who persevere with treatment can expect very positive results.”

Deployment Health Clinical Center Director Capt. Anthony Arita emphasizes the importance of not giving up on #mentalhealth treatment. #MHAmonth

http://www.dcoe.mil/blog/15-05-14/Don_t_Give_Up_on_Mental_Health_Treatment.aspx

Hidden Wounds to participate in 2nd Annual Midlands Gives!

What is going on!?

On Tuesday, May 5, 2015, the Central Carolina Community Foundation is sponsoring the second Annual Midlands Gives Day. The goal for this day is to raise as much money for Midlands nonprofits as possible in a 24 hour period. The event will start at 12:00AM (midnight) and go through 11:59PM.

All donations must be made online using a credit card at the Midlands Gives website. When you make a donation on this day, all of the proceeds will go to the designated nonprofit. We hope you choose us!

Who is the Central Carolina Community Foundation and what is Midlands Gives?

The Foundation emerged in 1984 with a vision to establish itself as the central resource for philanthropy in the Midlands. Since then, through the generosity of donors, they have given more than $90 million to organizations nationwide and have invested time and resources in identifying the critical needs within the community.

Midlands Gives is a 24-hour local online giving challenge spanning 11 counties in the Midlands region of South Carolina. Last year’s inaugural Midlands Gives event was an incredible success, generating more than $705,000 for 150 local nonprofits through a one-day-only online public fundraising campaign that went viral.

 

Why should I pick Hidden Wounds?

Your donation on May 5th will help us further our mission of providing vital mental health services to veterans and their families. You can help ease the pain of a soldier, the worry of a mother and the grief of a child. An underestimated 22 Veterans lose their battle to PTSD everyday. We are helping make a difference in the military community and we can’t do it without your help.

Is anyone matching gifts?

An anonymous donor who wished to be called the Cheerful Giver is going to match the first $1000 that will go towards our goal of $5,000. That means when you help us hit the $1000 mark, we will only have $3000 left to go! Of course we don’t have to hold ourselves back; we can surpass that goal but we are leaving that up to you. Another opportunity for matching gifts will take place from 5:00pm until 5:15pm. Every gift of $100 will automatically be matched by AFLAC.

We are counting on your support!

Is there anything else we should know?

Midlands Gives along with awesome partners like AFLAC are holding contests for all organizations to participate in and possibly raise more money. Check this out!

Throughout the day, AFLAC is sponsoring Power Hours. Whichever nonprofit has the most donors during that hour will receive a $1,000 bonus. You can donate during each power hour, but only one donation per donor will be counted toward the contest during that particular hour.

  • 6:00 AM to 7:00 AM
  • Noon to 1:00 PM
  • 7:00 PM to 8:00 PM

 

 

DoD: It takes only one person to stop a suicide

Security guards open a gate for motorist at the visitor entrance to Fort Lee, Va., on Aug. 25 after a female soldier with a gun turned the weapon on herself. (Steve Helber / AP)

Security guards open a gate for motorist at the visitor entrance to Fort Lee, Va., on Aug. 25 after a female soldier with a gun turned the weapon on herself. (Steve Helber / AP)

 

By Patricia Kime 

Just six days before the start of Suicide Prevention Month in September, Army Sgt. 1st Class Paula Walker, 33, barricaded herself inside an office at Fort Lee, Virginia, and, in what military leaders later described as “upset and rage,” killed herself with a personal firearm.

The Aug. 25 death stands out for several reasons. First, female troops like Walker die by suicide at rates much lower than male service members; they tend not to use firearms; and, unlike more than half the service members who commit suicide each year, Walker had deployed to a combat zone, spending 15 months in Iraq in 2007 and 2008.

Her death and others by military personnel this year show how difficult a challenge suicide is for the Defense Department, which is launching several initiatives in September as part of National Suicide Prevention Month.

“Suicide is complex and the trajectory toward death is as individual as the person,” Defense Suicide Prevention Office Director Jacqueline Garrick said in an interview Sept. 4.

Together with the Veterans Affairs Department, DoD is launching the “Power of 1” awareness campaign — a public service initiative based on the idea that it takes just one person asking a question, texting a friend in need or making a phone call to save a life.

In a DoD-wide message Sept. 2, Defense Secretary Chuck Hagel emphasized the impact of simple intervention.

“These brave individuals shouldn’t be avoided or stigmatized. They need to be embraced. Whether you’re a service member, a veteran, a DoD civilian, or a friend or family member of someone who is, you have the power to make a difference,” Hagel said.

Garrick said statements conveyed in a nonjudgmental manner, such as, “I’m worried you might hurt yourself,” “You don’t seem yourself,” or “You seem to be taking risks,” accompanied by, “Let’s figure something out,” can help.

“It’s knowing how to ask the right questions without being afraid of the answers, and part of not being afraid is knowing where the resources are,” Garrick said.

Last November, DoD expanded its Vets4Warriors program, an around-the-clock call center that offers peer counseling and support, to active-duty, National Guard and reserve members, retirees and their families.

Staffed by veterans representing all service branches as well as a handful of family members, the toll-free line (1-855-838-8255) receives an average of about 1,500 calls a month, according to the Pentagon.

Garrick said the program not only gives those under stress someone to talk to, but the staff can help callers navigate the complexities of the mental health system as well as provide case management.

“When someone is really stressed, it’s hard to navigate. Our peers are really good at problem solving,” Garrick said.

For service members in emergencies, the Military Crisis Line, 1-800-273-8255, is staffed by trained mental health specialists — many of whom also are veterans, according to VA.

The 24-hour phone service, online chat and text-messaging system, overseen by VA, has fielded more than 1.25 million calls since 2007 and is credited with nearly 40,000 lifesaving rescues, according to the department.

While DoD is ramping up its suicide prevention programs in September, officials say the department maintains a full-court press on the problem year-round with the goal of reducing a surge in suicides in the past 12 years.

In 2013, 259 active-duty personnel, 87 reservists and 133 Guard members died by suicide.

The suicide rate per 100,000 personnel in 2013 was 18.7 for the active component, 23.4 for the reserves and 28.9 for the Guard.

In comparison, the civilian rate, adjusted to similar demographics as those who serve, is 18.8 per 100,000.

“Getting help when you need it is not only a sign of strength, but it works,” Army Lt. Gen. Michael Linnington, military deputy to the undersecretary of defense for personnel and readiness, said in a news release. “Having the confidence to seek help when you need it is important.”

Concerned over the frequency of suicide among young veterans, Iraq and Afghanistan Veterans of America made the subject its top priority this year.

IAVA founder Paul Rieckhoff said the DoD figures underscore the scope of the problem and call attention to the broader issue, that troops and veterans — including those recently discharged — are dying by their own hands in significant numbers.

“We’re outraged, which is why we’ve asked the president to draft an executive order focused solely on military and veteran suicide,” Rieckhoff recently told Military Times.

A poll of IAVA members earlier this year found that 31 percent said they have thought about taking their own lives since joining the military and 40 percent have a friend who served in Iraq or Afghanistan and died by suicide.

First Sgt. Paula Walker’s brother Paul told the British paper MailOnline on Aug. 27 that his sister’s suicide “came out of nowhere.”

“I am devastated at the loss of my twin sister. This was totally unseen. … You never know what’s going on in a person’s mind,” Paul Walker said, according to the paper.

And that, precisely, is the major challenge of preventing suicide, Garrick said.

In studying military suicide in the past several years, DoD has found the majority of those who take their own lives are young, white, enlisted men who have never deployed to a combat zone. About one-third told someone of their intent and nearly half had seen a doctor in the months before they died.

But often, those who die by suicide fit none of those descriptions.

“As much as I wish I could say there is a known portion of the population that dies by suicide, there are constant exceptions to the rules,” Garrick said. “Constant vigilance is needed.”

Related Links

http://www.airforcetimes.com/article/20140904/BENEFITS06/309040057/DoD-takes-only-one-person-stop-suicide

Sniffing Gas Could Prevent PTSD, Study

By: Christine Hsu

August 28, 2014

Gas could help prevent post-traumatic stress disorder and other memory-related conditions, according to a new study. Researchers from McLean Hospital found that xenon gas, which is used in humans for anesthesia and diagnostic imaging, can help reduce the vividness of traumatic events. “In our study, we found that xenon gas has the capability of reducing memories of traumatic events,” Edward G. Meloni, PhD, assistant psychologist at McLean Hospital and an assistant professor of Psychiatry at Harvard Medical School said in a news release. “It’s an exciting breakthrough, as this has the potential to be a new treatment for individuals suffering from PTSD.” “We found that a single exposure to the gas, which is known to block NMDA receptors involved in memory formation in the brain, dramatically and persistently reduced fear responses for up to 2 weeks. It was as though the animals no longer remembered to be afraid of those cues, ” he added. “The fact that we were able to inhibit remembering of a traumatic memory with xenon is very promising because it is currently used in humans for other purposes, and thus it could be repurposed to treat PTSD,” researcher Marc J. Kaufman, PhD, director of the McLean Hospital Translational Imaging Laboratory, said in a news release. “From here we want to explore whether lower xenon doses or shorter exposure times would also block memory reconsolidation and the expression of fear. We’d also like to know if xenon is as effective at reducing traumatic memories from past events, so-called remote memories, versus the newly formed ones we tested in our study,” he added. The findings are published in the journal PLOS ONE. http://www.counselheal.com/articles/11073/20140828/sniffing-gas-prevent-ptsd-study.htm

Young war veteran shot, killed by police

WAFF-TV: News, Weather and Sports for Huntsville, AL
By WMCActionNews5.com Staff – email

GERMANTOWN, TN –

(WMC) – A young war veteran was shot and killed by Germantown police officers Tuesday night just before 10 p.m.

Justin Neil Davis’ best friend, who asked to be called Val, told WMC Action News 5 that Davis went to Cameron Brown Park in Germantown off Farmington Boulevard, because it is where he had happy memories of his childhood.
Davis was reportedly sitting in his car with a rifle and thoughts of suicide when Germantown police shot and killed him. Wednesday night, family and friends say they still have questions. 

According to police, a “be on the lookout” or BOLO alert was issued for Davis, 24, who was reportedly unstable, armed and dangerous, and possibly suicidal.

Fayette County Sheriff’s Office received a tip on a crisis hotline about Davis. Fayette County deputies went to his house, but he was not there. That’s when Germantown police found Davis in a parked car at Cameron Brown Park armed with a rifle.

“I tried to get him to come out to my parents house … just to meet him somewhere just to talk him out of it,” Val said.
Val says while he texted Davis, law enforcement officers were tracking the Iraqi veteran on his cell phone, but that he was not allowed to talk with his friend.

Officers evacuated the immediate area around the park and established communication with him using the squad car’s PA system.

According to police, the situation escalated, and three Germantown police officers ended up firing their guns at Davis. He was pronounced dead at the park.

Investigators used orange paint to mark where Davis’ car and six police cars sat during the confrontation. The closest police car appears to have been about 20 yards away.

“Why did three cops have to unload their weapon on a single man?” Val said.

Davis’ friends and family say he was a war veteran who had trouble getting a job when he got home. They say he did not deserve to die this way.

“It’s just sad that people have to feel like they can’t help themselves and things go bad that way, you know?” Germantown resident Kelsey Beckum said.

The three GPD officers involved in the shooting are on paid administrative leave pending an investigation. The district attorney’s office asked Tennessee Bureau of Investigation to lead the case; the TBI would eventually turn it back over to the DA’s office.

Copyright 2014 WMC Action News 5. All rights reserved.   

http://www.waff.com/story/26034113/man-shot-killed-by-germantown-police-officers?clienttype=generic&mobilecgbypass&utm_content=bufferf9b50&utm_medium=social&utm_source=facebook.com&utm_campaign=buffer

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Study: High suicide rates for soldiers in, out of war

Suicide rates for soldiers who served in Afghanistan increased, according to a large study. (Photo: Scott Olson, Getty Images)

Suicide rates for soldiers who served in Afghanistan increased, according to a large study.
(Photo: Scott Olson, Getty Images)

A massive Army study focusing on records from nearly a million soldiers provides a more detailed analysis of the suicides trend plaguing the service.

Written by Gregg Zoroya

Suicide rates soared among soldiers who went to war in Iraq and Afghanistan and those who never left the United States, according to the largest study ever conducted on suicide in the military.

To prepare the study, researchers scanned records from nearly a million soldiers.

Scientists have long speculated that the fast-paced tempo the Army was under at home and abroad during the war years was an overall strain that contributed to suicides and that deaths were not just a factor of combat duty. The research by the National Institute of Mental Health appears to bear this out.

“A simple explanation that war is hell and you send people to war and bad things happen to those people is an incomplete explanation,” says Michael Schoenbaum, an epidemiologist and lead author on the study looking at suicide rates.

The ongoing, $65 million study produced three separate research papers published online Monday by The Journal of the American Medical Association Psychiatry.

Among key findings: while suicide rates for soldiers who served in Iraq and Afghanistan more than doubled from 2004 to 2009 to more than 30-per-100,000, the trend among those who never deployed nearly tripled to between 25- and 30-per-100,000.

Rates for a civilian population of similar age and demographics remained steady at 19-per-100,000 during this time. The Army suicide rate, historically far lower than the civilian figure, surpassed it in 2008 and kept climbing.

The research tracked soldier records through the end of 2009. But suicides in the Army continued to rise thereafter, reaching a record high in 2012 before dipping last year.

Other findings revealed by the research published Monday:

• Researchers debunked theories that suicides were the result of two Army trends designed to recruit or retain people. One trend was the use of waivers for recruits with poor education or conduct records. The other was the practice of forcing soldiers to remain in the service beyond their enlistment, something known as “stop-loss.” Neither practice contributed to the rise in suicides, researchers found.

• Some of the same risk factors that predict suicide — such as a history of mental health problems, a demotion in rank or a disciplinary action — also were were found to predict fatal accidents among soldiers.

• About one in four soldiers in the Army appear to suffer from at least one psychiatric disorder and one in 10 have multiple disorders.

• Women have lower suicide rates than men in the Army except during deployments.

• About a third of soldiers who attempted suicide are associated with mental disorders developed before they joined the Army, an indication that the service could do a better job of screening recruits.

http://www.usatoday.com/story/news/nation/2014/03/03/suicide-army-rate-soldiers-institute-health/5983545/

How Congress Plans to Prevent Military Suicides

A shooting at Fort Hood last month has pushed military mental health back into the congressional spotlight.(JIM WATSON/AFP/Getty Images)

A shooting at Fort Hood last month has pushed military mental health back into the congressional spotlight.(JIM WATSON/AFP/Getty Images)

By 

May 7, 2014

 

Lawmakers hope to use an annual defense bill as a vehicle for mental-health screenings.

Jacob Sexton, a 21-year-old member of the National Guard, fatally shot himself inside an Indiana movie theater during a two-week leave from Afghanistan in 2009.

Sen. Joe Donnelly will unveil legislation Wednesday named after Sexton that would require service members to get an annual in-person mental-health assessment. Donnelly hopes it helps stop others from taking their own lives.

“This is about working nonstop with Jacob’s parents to prevent other families from experiencing that same pain,” the Indiana Democrat said in a video obtained by National Journal that will be released Wednesday.

 

Donnelly’s legislation, formally called the Jacob Sexton Military Suicide Prevention Act, follows the Pentagon’s latest suicide numbers released late last month. The report found a decrease in the number of reported suicides among active-duty troops, but an increase in reserve and Guard members killing themselves.

There were 319 suicides reported among active members in 2012, compared with 261 in 2013, according to preliminary data. But suicide within the ranks of reserves and National Guard members increased from 203 in 2012 to 213 last year.

And while suicide is historically underreported, the Pentagon says a total of 841 service members attempted suicide at least once in 2012.

Meanwhile, the number of service members who kill themselves after they leave the military has increased dramatically. The VA estimates that 22 veterans commit suicide each day, totaling about 8,030 veterans every year.

Many service members already have an annual mental-health screening, but Donnelly’s bill is aimed at closing the gaps for in-person assessments. For example, Air National Guard members currently have an annual online assessment, but face-to-face examinations take place only every five years.

Lawmakers and service organizations worry that the stigma attached to mental-health issues keeps service members—both past and present—from asking for help or reporting mental-health problems. Attempting suicide is currently considered a crime under the military’s rules.

“Right now, the best and most consistent screening is happening only for those within the deployment cycle, and it leaves reservists and Guardsmen like Jacob underserved,” Donnelly said.

In addition to the mental-health screenings, Donnelly wants an annual report from the Pentagon to the Armed Services committees detailing the screenings and what care or follow-up was recommended. The Defense Department would also have to submit a report on how to improve its response on mental-health issues. And a committee to improve mental-health services for National Guard and reserve troops would be formed with the Department of Health and Human Services.

Donnelly isn’t alone in his search for solutions. Lawmakers have introduced a handful of other proposals to address mental-health issues in the military. Some argue such measures could help prevent a shooting like the one at Fort Hood last month, when Ivan Lopez, a 34-year-old Army specialist, fatally shot three people and injured 16 others before turning the gun on himself.

Republican Rep. Glenn Thompson of Pennsylvania, Democratic Rep. Tim Ryan of Ohio, Republican Sen. Rob Portman of Ohio, and Democratic Sen. Jay Rockefeller of West Virginia have introduced the Medical Evaluation Parity for Service Members Act in their respective chambers. Instead of requiring annual in-person mental health screenings, the legislation would require screenings for military recruits and for reserve and National Guard forces that transfer to active duty.

Donnelly and other lawmakers hope to get their proposals included in the annual defense bill, the National Defense Authorization Act. The bill has been passed for the last 52 years, and it’s likely the best vehicle for avoiding partisan fighting. And Donnelly’s legislation will get early bipartisan support, with Mississippi Republican Sen. Roger Wicker expected to endorse the proposal.

Donnelly originally introduced a version of the bill last year, with a pilot program on mental health screenings instead of annual in-person screenings for all servicemembers. The Pentagon was required to submit a report with feedback on screening tools included in the program, as part of the last year’s defense bill.

The report—part of a bipartisan push spearheaded by Donnelly—also asked for an assessment of new tools that could be used to improve mental-health screenings and better identify suicide-risk factors for service members. Donnelly received the report in March, and used it to help craft his new legislation.

“There is not one solution, there’s no cure-all to prevent suicide. But this problem is not too big to solve. We can start by improving our methods of identifying risk factors before it is too late,” he said.

http://www.nationaljournal.com/defense/how-congress-plans-to-prevent-military-suicides-20140507

Marine’s inner struggle is the fight of his life

Staff Sgt. Javier Jimenez interacts with local Afghans as he tries to gather information about the movement  <a style=

of insurgents near Patrol Base Boldak, Afghanistan, on July 30, 2013. BOBBY J. YARBROUGH/U.S. MARINES” src=”http://www.hiddenwounds.org/wp-content/uploads/2014/04/image-1-300×199.jpg” width=”300″ height=”199″ /> Staff Sgt. Javier Jimenez interacts with local Afghans as he tries to gather information about the movement of insurgents near Patrol Base Boldak, Afghanistan, on July 30, 2013.
BOBBY J. YARBROUGH/U.S. MARINES

By Thomas Brennan

The Daily News, Jacksonville, N.C.
Published: April 8, 2014

It was a sensation that Marine Staff Sgt. Javier Jimenez could physically feel: the weight of life was literally crushing him.

“You start running out of air, the room starts getting smaller around you and your heart starts pounding,” Jimenez said, describing the “horrible” feeling that overwhelmed him. “You’re more hopeless than you have ever been before. You start worrying about the next day, wondering if you are going to make it there because all you want to do is die.”

For years, 34-year-old Jimenez, an infantry Marine who is currently transitioning to Wounded Warrior Battalion East, has dealt with thoughts of suicide as a means to escape his overwhelming anxiety. Diagnosed with psychosis, a mood disorder, post-traumatic stress disorder and an anxiety disorder, Jimenez said he is constantly battling the urge to end his own life. It won’t be by his own hand though, he said, and he’s never physically hurt himself. Instead, Jimenez engages in risky behavior that he said he hopes will result in an accident that kills him.

“Even in Afghanistan, I would walk in the open trying to get shot at,” he said. “I was putting myself in risky situations because I wouldn’t kill myself, but the whole time I wanted to die. I just want to be put out of my misery.”

His risky behavior in combat carried over to daily life, he said. Feeling as though he has no control over his life, Jimenez said living for tomorrow has become increasingly difficult with each passing day, especially now that he is not actively participating in infantry training.

“Fighting with yourself to live to the next day isn’t a way to live your life,” he said. “Sometimes you spend the whole day thinking about suicide — every single second. When you get out and put yourself in that risky situation, you feel a rush. It’s the only time you feel alive. Cutting it close is the only time you don’t want to die because you finally feel alive. Not wanting to die is a good feeling, and I try to feel it as much as possible.”

But he’s not without hope — or help.

He said the treatment he has received from mental health providers at Naval Hospital Camp Lejeune has been “outstanding” and helps him understand that things will get better with time and effort on his part. The infantry unit he is attached to, 2nd Battalion, 2nd Marines, has been fully supportive, recommending him for Wounded Warrior Battalion East so he can focus fully on his treatment.

“There’s a lot of help available when you’re debating suicide,” Jimenez said. “I know it feels like you’re stuck in a horrible place with no way out; but there is hope, and that’s one thing the groups and the doctors are showing me.”

Opening lines of communication

At the School of Infantry aboard Camp Geiger, both Marine and Navy leadership encourage Marines and sailors to attend an anonymous group where they can discuss the stresses of life, marriage, military service and more. The group, which meets weekly, is a safe haven for dozens of Marines aboard the installation to vent and discover they are not alone. Because the Marine or sailor’s leadership is not notified of their involvement in the group, many servicemembers have turned to the group, which also advocates for one-on-one treatment if the servicemember is interested.

“The program … was spearheaded about a year and a half ago when a need among our (Marines) was identified,” said Marine Col. Jeffrey Conner, the commanding officer of the School of Infantry. “Marines being Marines, they want to come to work and put their best foot forward and have their game face on … but when they have difficulty with that we give them the resources and support they need to do just that.”

The program is discussed both monthly and quarterly to identify trends and, if needed, request more resources for the Marines and sailors, he said. In conjunction with the program, he said, the unit’s Family Readiness Officer and chaplain help identify at-risk Marines and sailors and refer them to the program. The group, he said, allows for open communication among Marines and their leaders and also builds awareness on how to be cognizant of what your peers may be going through.

As the sergeant major of the Advanced Infantry Training Battalion, Daniel Wilson, 40, of Jacksonville said that some of the Marines within his battalion are stepping forward and asking for help, noting there is a receptive environment that allows for personal development through therapy without judgment or reprisal. Because AITB trains senior enlisted Marines, Wilson feels as though the open-door policy toward mental health will have a trickle-down effect within the Marine Corps and make others more accepting of those who ask for help.

“The reason they seek treatment may not even be combat related, it could just be stress,” Wilson said. “The Marine Corps has not written the book on managing post-traumatic stress … but we are doing everything we can to wrap our heads around it. … This is just one of the ways we are doing that.”

At both Marine Combat Training Battalion and Headquarters and Support Battalion, Sergeants Major Therester Cox and Christopher Garza said the message to Marines afraid of seeking treatment is that there is no stigma at the School of Infantry and they will not see any backlash for getting help.

“Get out, get help and don’t be afraid,” said Cox, 39, of Jacksonville. “To me, No. 1, everybody is a man or woman first. You’re important to somebody. … Now add to the fact that you are a United States Marine. It’s very important that Marines understand they need to get help because the Marine Corps is counting on you. You aren’t able to do anything for the Marine Corps if you aren’t taking care of yourself as an individual.”

The group is led by Navy Lt. Crystal Shelton, a clinical social worker who devotes her time between clinical appointments to interacting with the Marines and sailors as they train students, hoping to build awareness of resources and to minimize any stigma associated with mental health treatment, she said. The program is designed to be used for early intervention, she said, and it is also used to help people determine whether or not they are having a problem; but in order to help, someone needs to ask for it.

“Right here, what is happening is what other places are trying to model themselves on,” said Shelton, 38, of Jacksonville. “We’re trying to send the message that waiting (to get treatment) doesn’t help the situation. By waiting it usually makes things worse in their life. It you think there is an issue, come in and talk to someone. You don’t have to wait until you can’t do your job anymore.”

Confidential resources

Navy chaplains, who are embedded within Marine units, often find Marines and sailors confiding in them when things in life aren’t going as planned. Trained to non-clinically identify symptoms of suicide, post-traumatic stress and other ailments, chaplains have access to resources they can make available to Marines such as counseling, retreats and more.

For Navy Cmdr. Marc Massie, 43, of Camp Lejeune, the best part of being a chaplain is that he can assist servicemembers with any problem and it will be kept 100-percent confidential. Chaplains are bound by law to maintain confidentiality regardless of the topic discussed even if the servicemember confesses homicidal, suicidal or fratricidal intents.

“Confidentiality means that it doesn’t matter what a servicemember says to a chaplain, it will not be repeated to anyone else,” said Massie, the station command chaplain for New River Air Station. “The reason the military does this is because it gives the servicemembers a safe place to go. The doctors, nurses and MCCS are great, but they are not 100-percent confidential.”

Whether real or imaginary, many Marines and sailors have fears that asking for help will ruin their career, he said, and part of what chaplains do is try to break down those walls and make it OK to talk. If someone were to walk in his office and confess that they were suicidal, which has happened in the past, Massie said that a chaplain will do whatever it takes to get the servicemember whatever assistance they need before they leave their office and even offer to go with them.

Sometimes, according to Massie, going to talk to a counselor can be a scary thing, especially when a Marine or sailor must tell their command they will be attending therapy. Massie said he has assisted many servicemembers in telling their command that they will be attending therapy and doesn’t allow the command to poke and prod, which often times makes the servicemember uncomfortable.

“I’ve counseled atheists, Wiccans and every other denomination,” Massie said. “It doesn’t matter if you even believe in a religion. We come at things with a human approach and just talk to people. We become a friend with them and check in on them from time to time to make sure they’re doing OK.”

It’s one more example of letting troops know that they’re not alone.

“I think most Marines would be surprised if they knew how many of their peers has asked for help,” Massie said. “It’s not as uncommon as people may think.”

Just ask Jimenez, the staff sergeant working to find his way back.

“There are people going through the same thing,” he said. “I feel alone but I know I’m not alone. That really helps when you’re fighting your own battle.”

thomas.brennan@jdnews.com 

http://www.stripes.com/news/us/marine-s-inner-struggle-is-the-fight-of-his-life-1.276930?=&utm_source=Stars+and+Stripes+Emails&utm_campaign=Daily+Headlines&utm_medium=email

Marine battled back, yet fell to suicide

Farrell Gilliam was buried in Fresno Jan. 21, carried to his grave by Marine pallbearers and friends. (Courtesy Gilliam family.)

Farrell Gilliam was buried in Fresno Jan. 21, carried to his grave by Marine pallbearers and friends. (Courtesy Gilliam family.)

 

 

By Gretel C. Kovach MARCH 28, 2014

*GRAPHIC LANGUAGE

He rarely spoke of it. Not to his family or best buddies, fellow Marines or medical staff watching over him.

But Cpl. Farrell Gilliam had endured far more by the time he died this year at age 25 than most people could comprehend.

The Camp Pendleton infantryman survived three months of combat in 2010 with the “Darkhorse” 3rd Battalion, 5th Marine Regiment in Sangin, Afghanistan — one of the deadliest battlegrounds of the war.

Amid firefights and insurgents’ bombs, Gilliam saw limbs strewn across the ground. He loaded broken, bleeding bodies for medical evacuation, and grieved for the friends they could not save.

Gilliam’s tour ended early when his legs were blown off by an improvised explosive device, or IED. “Farrell’s Fight,” his struggle on the homefront that his big brother helped him chronicle online, included more than 30 surgeries and three years of rehabilitation.

It was a story of triumph over wounds that would have been fatal in earlier conflicts. A story that was coming to an end, but not how anyone who knew him expected.

 

Gilliam was months away from a medical discharge from the Marine Corps and a new life as civilian college student. Physically, he had one surgery left to remove hardware in an arm. Psychologically, he was suffering from invisible wounds he hid behind smiles and upbeat banter.

Or so his family discovered on Jan. 9, when Gilliam committed suicide by shooting himself in the head in his barracks room in San Antonio.

Gilliam finally succumbed to his battle wounds, said Sgt. James Finney, his former squad leader in Afghanistan. It doesn’t matter who pulled the trigger — to him Gilliam was killed in action just like the other 25 from their battalion.

“It was an 8,000-mile sniper shot,” said Finney, 27, now an infantry instructor. “His passing was directly due to a situation because of his wounds received in Afghanistan. I don’t care what anyone else thinks.”

The suicide rate for active-duty troops spiked in 2012 to nearly one a day, a record during this era of warfare and twice as high as a decade before. At least 350 took their lives that year, more than the number of service members killed in combat. (Final numbers for 2012 and a year-end tally for 2013 are pending, a Pentagon official said.)

Last year, 45 Marines committed suicide and 234 tried to. It was by far the highest number of suicide attempts for the service since at least 2003.

Among veterans of all the armed forces, at least 22 commit suicide daily, according to estimates from the U.S. Department of Veterans Affairs.

Gilliam’s death blindsided his family and friends. Amid their raw first waves of grief, anger and irrational guilt, they pray that sharing his story might inspire others to stop suffering silently. Or spur a family to intervene. Or close a gap in support or education.

“I want no family to have to go through the pain that we are going through. If there’s just one person who gets that help that saves them … then it’s worth it,” said Gilliam’s brother, Daniel Lorente, 30, of Palo Alto, who cared for him full time as his non-medical assistant early in his rehabilitation.

Cpl. Farrell Gilliam and his brother Daniel Lorente in a Palo Alto fire truck in 2011 on the way to Gilliams flying lesson with a cousin. Courtesy photo

Cpl. Farrell Gilliam and his brother Daniel Lorente in a Palo Alto fire truck in 2011 on the way to Gilliams flying lesson with a cousin. Courtesy photo

Combat

As a teenager, Gilliam scored high on tests but was uninterested in school. He was introspective and brash, a gun-lover who wanted more excitement than the Navy had offered his parents. He enlisted with the Marines at age 17 so he could serve his country and “blow s* up.”

“He just wanted to be a grunt,” said his mother, Lisa Gilliam of Fresno.

After a sea tour, Gilliam volunteered for combat. He deployed in October 2010 as an infantryman and designated marksman to Sangin, a Taliban stronghold in southwestern Afghanistan where U.S. Marines were taking over from British forces.

Four Marines died in a bomb strike on the first day. Gilliam served on the quick-reaction force, manning the Mark 19 grenade launcher or .50-caliber gun, pitching in with litter teams after roadside bomb attacks and shootouts.

When he called home Christmas Day, apologizing for upsetting his mother by missing the holiday for the first time, he sounded like a man fighting to survive.

“Is it bad?” Lorente asked. “Are you guys doing OK?”

“We are taking hits. S* is just rough right now,” Gilliam said. “We are doing everything we can.”

Cpl. Farrell Gilliam (right) on a 2010-2011 deployment to Sangin, Afghanistan.

Cpl. Farrell Gilliam (right) on a 2010-2011 deployment to Sangin, Afghanistan.

Gilliam shielded his mother from the worst so she wouldn’t worry. But Lisa Gilliam, a pediatric nurse practitioner specializing in surgery and trauma care, realized after that phone call that her son was going to need help.

“I could tell in his voice,” she said. It was exhausted. Haunted. “I knew he was not going to come home the same as he left.”

A week later, on Jan. 5, 2011, Farrell Gilliam stepped on an IED. The Marines were walking through a desert neighborhood of mud-walled compounds near their base, toward a distant radio tower.

Gilliam, a team leader, was at the back of the patrol. About 10 Marines had trod ahead, marking a narrow path as they went, before he triggered a pressure plate buried in the dirt.

Finney heard the explosion. He looked back and saw a cloud of dust. No one answered him on the radio but he could hear yelling. When he crested the hill, he saw Gilliam inside a bomb crater.

One of Gilliam’s grenades had detonated in the explosion, mangling his side. His feet were blasted away and his right arm broken.

Gilliam was the first from their squad of “Regulators” to be wounded. “I didn’t want to believe it, but at that point we’d kind of gotten used to guys getting hurt,” Finney said.

By then, 24 had been killed with the battalion. Gilliam and the Lima Company quick-reaction force had responded to 18 urgent casualty evacuations, most of them limb amputations.

Navy hospital corpsmen and Marines worked rapidly to stop Gilliam from bleeding to death. They cinched his legs with tourniquets, stuffed his guts back in his belly and injected him with morphine.

One Marine held down Gilliam’s thrashing body while another calmed him, assuring him he would be fine.

On the drive to Forward Operating Base Nolay, a corpsman jammed his fingers in Gilliam’s wounds to keep him awake. To keep him alive until the medevac flight crew finally put him to sleep.

Gilliam was terrified he would die on that helicopter, like a squad leader from his company, Sgt. Ian Tawney.

Lisa Gilliam heard her son speak of it only once. It was after he arrived on Jan. 9, 2011, at Bethesda, Md., and the National Naval Medical Center. He was in the intensive care unit, suffering terrible flashbacks.

“What are you afraid of?” a chaplain asked.

Gilliam recounted every detail. His voice was hoarse from the breathing tube that had just been removed. He was crying.

“I remember putting one of my guys on the medevac. They took off and he died later,” his mother recalled him saying.

Then one day they put him on the helicopter, too. And Gilliam was afraid. So afraid.

“That I was going to die later, too,” he said.

REHAB

Both legs had to be amputated above the knee because of debris rammed into his flesh, trauma from the explosion and infection. Gilliam also lost half of his abdominal muscles, a section of arm bone and portions of his testicles.

On the upside, his brain and face were intact, he kept both arms, and with help from hormone treatment, he could expect to father a child normally.

When Lisa Gilliam’s husband, from whom she was long separated, called saying their son was badly wounded and may not live, she screamed into the phone as if he were dead.

Gilliam’s family members thought he was protected in the war zone by his training and armored Humvees.

“I didn’t know what an IED was. I had to look it up,” Lisa Gilliam said. “What the hell are they out there doing looking for IEDs? I thought they were shooting guns behind bunkers like you see in the World War II movies.”

Her daughter Sarah, 22, just didn’t understand. “I thought she was trying to tell me he was dead. I couldn’t comprehend: he’s lost his legs but he’s alive?” How could that be?

Gen. James Amos, commandant of the Marine Corps, pins on Cpl. Farrell Gilliams Purple Heart medal while the young Marine is in the Intensive Care Unit at Bethesda, Maryland Jan. 28, 2011.Courtesy photo

Gen. James Amos, commandant of the Marine Corps, pins on Cpl. Farrell Gilliams Purple Heart medal while the young Marine is in the Intensive Care Unit at Bethesda, Maryland Jan. 28, 2011.Courtesy photo

The first year of recovery was rough for Gilliam. He was overcome by bouts of anger, fear, depression and frustration, even as he fantasized about returning to combat.

“I remember him saying, ‘We need to hurry up and get me better so I can go back.’ I was like, ‘You are going to kill Mom if you go back!’” his brother Lorente said.

Gilliam responded: “What? This time around if I step on an IED, I’ll just get new (prosthetic) sticks and I’ll be fine!”

Medications clouded his mind and made him vomit regularly for five months straight. He flushed them after one surgery, then had to order more to cope with the pain.

illiam sometimes slipped into what his mother called “black moods.” He would sit, unresponsive, for hours or even days at a time.

“He would just, like, check out. He would be fine and then it would be like turning off a light switch and he would just be somewhere else. You couldn’t reach him. You couldn’t talk to him,” she recalled.

In time, those dark spells grew shorter and less frequent.

These were normal struggles for a young man coming to terms with half his body blown away, according to his father, Mike Gilliam, a civilian defense worker from Ridgecrest, Calif. Family and fellow Marines tried to help him adjust.

“His first sergeant told him, ‘You ain’t got that much to be angry about.’ He knew it. He just had to get over it and get some perspective. And he was,” Mike Gilliam said.

“You’ve got lots of guys out there who lost both their arms and one leg and they just lay in their bed twitching. Or they get their brain rattled and they don’t think straight anymore. They lose their jaw.

“Good grief, he came out pretty good. The politicians, they loved to pose with him. He was a photogenic case,” he said. A handsome young man with dark almond eyes and a mischievous grin whose bedside visitors included the president and the commandant of the Marine Corps.

Gilliam got over his “attitude problem,” his father said, and tried to recover as quickly as possible. Soon he was zipping around corners of the VA Palo Alto on one wheel of his chair, a move immortalized as a “Farrell turn” at the hospital where Gilliam’s portrait still hangs.

“Every time I saw him, he was in good spirits,” said Finney the former squad leader. Even while coming out of physical therapy, which can be tiring and painful. “He always acted like he was going to beat it.”

Cpl. Farrell Gilliam is reunited with his unit for the first time in May 2011 at Camp Pendleton, at a memorial ceremony for 25 killed in action serving in Sangin, Afghanistan with the 3rd Battalion, 5th Marine Regiment. Courtesy photo

Cpl. Farrell Gilliam is reunited with his unit for the first time in May 2011 at Camp Pendleton, at a memorial ceremony for 25 killed in action serving in Sangin, Afghanistan with the 3rd Battalion, 5th Marine Regiment. Courtesy photo

 

TEXAS

In October 2011, Gilliam transferred to Brooke Army Medical Center in San Antonio, home to one of the nation’s top rehabilitation programs for the more than 1,500 Iraq or Afghanistan war veterans with an amputated limb.

He would be far from family in California, but they thought the Center for the Intrepid — with its surf tank and other amenities — offered him the best long-term chance of recovery.

Gilliam moved into the wounded warrior barracks at Fort Sam Houston, among its detachment of about two dozen Marines and equal number of staff members.

On Jan. 5, 2012, he celebrated the first anniversary of his “Alive Day,” when Marine amputees mark the moment they cheated death in combat, and toast those who weren’t so lucky. Gilliam wrote on his Facebook page: “One year ago today I got blown the f* up, but I’m here on the river walk in San Antonio getting hammered with my buddies.

“SUCK IT TALIBAN, YOU LOSE,” he wrote.

More than 500 people hit “like” on the post. After a long string of supportive comments, including jabs at Taliban living in caves, Gilliam wrote: “this just made my day.”

Cpl. Farrell Gilliam with his grandmother, Theresa Stavens, brother Daniel Lorente, and mother Lisa Gilliam in Bethesda, Maryland March 2011 on Gilliams first outing from the hospital. Courtesy photo

Cpl. Farrell Gilliam with his grandmother, Theresa Stavens, brother Daniel Lorente, and mother Lisa Gilliam in Bethesda, Maryland March 2011 on Gilliams first outing from the hospital. Courtesy photo

During visits home last year for the holidays, he seemed to be thriving. Independent again, full of life and plans for the future. And more outgoing than before he was wounded.

Gilliam had reconciled himself to a wheelchair because his missing abdominal muscles made it difficult to use prosthetic legs. But he didn’t let that confine him.

He bought a big truck with hand controls and drove it to New Mexico to see a friend. Cruising with his sisters, he would dance in the driver’s seat to anything from Angels & Airwaves rock to classical music.

Gilliam ate only organic food, worked out diligently and adopted the Paleo Diet. On Thanksgiving, he propped his cookbook on the counter and mixed up pumpkin muffins with almond flour.

“I was in awe,” his brother Lorente said. “Whatever they are doing in San Antonio has changed my brother into this young man who was going to be able to take over the world if he wanted to.”

There was a nice young lady in the picture. A part-time job waiting for him and studies toward an English major at Arizona State University, for which he had already started online classes.

Gilliam loved reading — especially Kipling, Wordsworth and Emerson — a pastime he shared with his good friend James McCain. The two were going to be roommates after Gilliam left the Corps.

Gilliam had served with the U.S. senator’s son, a 25-year-old Marine veteran, before deploying to Afghanistan. When they reconnected after Gilliam was wounded, McCain was impressed to find “practically the only other person on the planet” who knew about the philosophy of naturalism.

He was “a really deep young guy I really enjoyed talking to,” McCain said. They spoke almost every day.

“The sweetest guy I ever met really. There wasn’t an angry bone in his body. When I would get pissed off, I would end up calling him. ‘Jim, we’ll be alright,’ he would say. That taught me a lot about life,” McCain said.

Gilliam never mentioned wanting to kill himself, not even in jest, McCain said. But he remembers the one time his friend revealed the burden of his wounds.

They were drinking beers one afternoon about six months ago. Gilliam was on the couch when McCain got in his chair to wheel over some refills. “Man, this is the best beer-getting chair!” McCain joked.

“Yeah, it’s pretty awesome when you don’t have to be stuck in it the rest of your life,” Gilliam said.

McCain and Gilliam celebrated New Year’s with friends in Arizona. After exchanging a pile of books, Gilliam left on Jan. 3 for Texas. “‘Alright man, see you soon,’ he said. And that was it,” McCain said.

“He seemed fine. His normal self.”

TRIGGER

Gilliam told his sister Sarah that he had a great time in Arizona and didn’t want to return to San Antonio. “He didn’t want to sit in his room and wonder when he would see everybody again. It just went downhill from there,” she said.

He sat alone in the barracks drinking a bottle of Scotch, ignoring his sister’s protests.

“It was an overwhelming sense of isolation, from everybody and everything,” Sarah said.

A couple days later, on Jan. 5, on what he now called his “Survival Day,” Gilliam wrote a long post on Facebook. He ruminated over each moment of the IED attack and thanked everyone by name who helped him.

“Three years ago today I won (or lost) a game of hide and seek with an IED in Afghanistan,” he wrote.

“Doc Brown, Doc Gojar, Gutierrez, Griff, and Finney, and countless other surgeons, doctors, nurses and corpsmen helped keep my name off the KIA list.

“Every morning I wake up and realize that I am actually alive, I think about all of you,” he said.

He mentioned his hope that stem cell technology could give him a new pair of legs, then wrote: “I love you guys. I think about you every day and will continue to do so until I can no longer think due to Alzheimer’s, dementia, or death. Thank you.”

On Jan. 9, three years to the day after he returned to the United States from Afghanistan, Gilliam sent a mass text to his closest relatives and friends.

“I love you. Far more than you know,” it said.

Responses filled all of their phone screens: I love you too, brother; Love ya, Gilly …

Sarah was worried. “How ya doing by the way?” she texted.

No response.

“Seriously though are you ok?”

No response.

“IF YOU REALLY LOVED ME YOU WOULDN’T MAKE ME WORRY.”

An hour after that, a barracks resident heard the gunshot.

The family of Camp Pendleton Marine Cpl. Farrell Gilliam, from left, sister Erin Gilliam, brother Daniel Lorente, mother Lisa Gilliam, and sister Sarah Gilliam, at Seaport Village in San Diego on Saturday. Cpl. Gilliam, who was terribly wounded in Afghanistan, recently took his own life. Marines and relatives don't consider it suicide and is petitioning to have his name on a stone memorial with the other 25 members of the battalion killed in action. Hayne Palmour IV

The family of Camp Pendleton Marine Cpl. Farrell Gilliam, from left, sister Erin Gilliam, brother Daniel Lorente, mother Lisa Gilliam, and sister Sarah Gilliam, at Seaport Village in San Diego on Saturday. Cpl. Gilliam, who was terribly wounded in Afghanistan, recently took his own life. Marines and relatives don’t consider it suicide and is petitioning to have his name on a stone memorial with the other 25 members of the battalion killed in action. Hayne Palmour IV

AFTERMATH

Lisa Gilliam saw two Marines at her door and thought they were gathering donations.

They said her son had passed, but she couldn’t believe it. She screamed: “How do you know? How do you know!”

Gilliam didn’t appear to suffer from depression, PTSD or suicidal tendencies. He quit all medications several months earlier, as far as his family knew.

“The universal reaction was, ‘Where did this come from?’” his father said. “No one was under the impression that he was going through any kind of battle in this regard.”

To this day, he can’t accept it. Maybe a brain lesion or seizure was to blame, he wonders, though naval investigators ruled the shooting a suicide.

Lisa Gilliam was disturbed to learn that her son hadn’t received psychological treatment for two years.

He didn’t seem to need it, she agreed. As in the civilian world, the military can’t force personnel into psychological care unless they appear in danger of hurting someone, she was told.

“He put on a great face in the day. But I think nights, alone in the barracks there at San Antonio, were probably hell for him. The Marine Corps and the military in general, they need to look at these different stages. They can’t say just because they aren’t showing signs, that there’s nothing going on upstairs,” she said.

When the troops return home, “the war is not over for them. It rages for them in their heads and their hearts. Farrell’s physical was the least of his problems, apparently. We didn’t think so, but look at where we are at now.

“That’s what PTSD is. It’s like a tumor that you can’t see. If it’s not treated, it’s going to kill you.”

As a family, they have so many questions about Gilliam and other combat veterans.

Why bother to heal their bodies if you can’t heal their minds? Why do wounded Marines have single rooms instead of being forced to buddy up? Why couldn’t Gilliam live with a Jack Russell therapy dog like he wanted? Why is it so easy to sneak a gun into the barracks?

And the most important question of all. The one they know can never be answered: Why did he leave them?

As the Corps grapples with fallout from 13 years of combat, it encourages Marines to look out for each other and for signs of distress. Many are reluctant to ask for help because of the stigma against psychological care, a fear of appearing weak and mistrust of medical providers who haven’t seen combat.

“We are a stubborn breed,” said Capt. Ryan Powell, a spokesman for the Marine Corps Wounded Warrior Regiment.

PETITION

After Gilliam died, Marines who served with him in Sangin started talking about the battalion’s 26th KIA.

Mark Soto, the father of a “Darkhorse” Marine who struggled with suicidal impulses but got help, started a petition. It asks the Corps and Defense Department to add Gilliam’s name to the memorial stone at Camp Pendleton for the 5th Marine Regiment war dead.

It quickly gained more than 1,000 supporters.

Jim Binion, whose stepson Sgt. Matthew Abbate was killed in Sangin, encouraged readers of his “Hella Sick Clothing” blog on Facebook to sign the petition.

When some objected to Gilliam being counted among the KIA, Binion replied: “Farrell woke up to pain every day, and PTSD like you can only think of in nightmares, and one night the demons got him.

“If you have a problem with us pushing for Farrell, feel free to leave the page. But I know what Matt expected from me. He would not leave a brother behind.”

Finney, the former squad leader, said Gilliam deserves respect for being one of the few Americans who volunteered to be a Marine grunt. On top of that, “he goes to a combat zone and receives a Purple Heart. It makes him 1 percent of 1 percent of 1 percent.”

Then he quoted from Henry V. The same words Gilliam used on Memorial Day 2012 when he beseeched the public to “remember our fallen, so they will not die.”

“Our 25, the giants of our generation, who fell in battle against the mighty Taliban, in the far off lands of a place called Afghanistan. A place the rest of us will never leave.”

Then from Shakespeare: “He which hath no stomach to this fight let him depart. But we in it shall be remembered. We few, we happy few, we band of brothers! For he today that sheds his blood with me shall always be my brother.”

McCain said he doesn’t understand why one of the strongest people he ever met wanted to end his own life. “We never will,” he said. “He’s just gone and I will always love him.”

Lisa Gilliam is proud of her son, but angry too. “He overcame so much. He was wounded to a horrible degree and yet he, he got through it. He did everything they asked him to do.”

So many surgeries, they stopped counting. All of his physical therapy. Learning to respond gracefully when children pointed and stared.

To kill himself, “sorry for my French, but it’s a big f* you to everybody, to everybody that had a part in his care and helping him come so far,” his mother said.

The family is strong and will persevere, but “it’s devastating,” his brother Lorente said, starting to weep. “It was such a battle on the homefront. It was a battle for us as a family for so long. I hate to see my Mom have to suffer, and my sisters …”

Sarah is angry too, they all are. “But maybe that’s the whole problem — he fought for so long and he just couldn’t anymore,” she said. “It’s easy to think you did this to me. But it wasn’t about any of us. It was about what he was going through.”

Then there’s the guilt. “We wish we could take the pain away. We wish we could have done more,” said his sister Erin, 20.

 

While in treatment during the summer of 2011 at the VA Palo Alto Polytrauma Center, Cpl. Farrell Gilliam stayed up all night building a Lego toy that he donated to a childrens program. Courtesy photo

While in treatment during the summer of 2011 at the VA Palo Alto Polytrauma Center, Cpl. Farrell Gilliam stayed up all night building a Lego toy that he donated to a childrens program. Courtesy photo

Now they mourn him, each in his own way.

Gilliam had a generous and gentle heart, his relatives said. When Sarah needed a kidney transplant in December, he argued with his mother that he should be the one to donate since he was younger.

When Erin admired a $1,500 special edition set of Harry Potter books, he gave them to her at Christmas. “He was very insightful. He took the time to know people,” Erin said.

Gilliam’s father had returned to work immediately after Gilliam was wounded. He didn’t know what else to do. No one knew what to say to him then, and they know even less now.

“You see your son in a box, you find out what you believe,” Mike Gilliam said. For him, it’s the resurrection. “I anticipate seeing him again. … He got a head start on the rest of us. But we will see him.”

What to feel is more difficult.

“Everybody around me is screaming their heads off. I’ve got nothing. I’m just kind of dealing with the situation. I am kind of waiting until the lights are out and everybody is tucked into bed and there is nobody around.

“A parenting thing you know, you deal with the problems after nobody else is around,” he said.

A son dies young, before his father — Mike Gilliam expects he will be dealing with it for years.

“What he was going to be. I miss that” most of all, he said. “What he was gonna be …”

FINAL REST

Strangers and friends. Medical staff from both coasts. Marines who fought with him in Afghanistan. Hundreds and hundreds across the country paid their respects after Gilliam died.

“They came from all over,” his brother Lorente said. “It was really moving how many people’s lives he touched. It was absolutely humbling.”

It started in San Antonio at the airport.

“We have the privilege and the honor today to be escorting a fallen warrior home to his final resting place,” the announcer said. Everyone in the terminal froze and fell silent.

Gilliam was loaded into the cargo hold of the plane under the scrutiny of his staff sergeant. The Marine escorted his body, standing vigil beside him every moment, until he was buried.

When the plane landed in San Jose, firefighters shot two arcs of water over the aircraft in salute. Police stopped Friday afternoon traffic to make way for the hearse and more than 100 Patriot Guard motorcycle riders.

On the drive to Fresno, every overpass was crowded with people. Firefighters standing at attention atop their trucks. A Marine honor guard. Sheriff’s deputies. Forestry workers.

Finney, Gilliam’s former squad leader, was among the Marine pallbearers who carried his coffin draped in red, white and blue.

After a volley of rifle fire in salute and the playing of taps, the Gilliams released a flock of white doves at Beth Israel Cemetery in Fresno, where he was buried Jan. 21 with full military honors.

Gilliam’s sisters tattooed his final text message prominently on their bodies. When she feels sad, Erin Gilliam rubs the flesh of her inner bicep where her brother’s words are inked. Sarah Gilliam has the words on her wrist.

“If anything good comes out of this,” Sarah said, “I just want it to be that somebody gets help that nobody thought they needed.”

Farrell Gilliam in 2008, on a sea tour with 1st Battalion, 1st Marine Regiment.

Farrell Gilliam in 2008, on a sea tour with 1st Battalion, 1st Marine Regiment.

gretel.kovach@utsandiego.com; (619) 293-1293; Twitter @gckovach; Facebook: U-T Military

 

 

 

 

 

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