Growing up as both the child and now the spouse of veterans, I have seen firsthand how service-related Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder affects not only those who served, but the people who love them. My understanding of PTSD didn’t come from a textbook, it came from my home, my relationships, and the role I had to step into at a young age.
My dad lives with severe PTSD, and for years, I lived in an environment where I felt like I had to constantly be on edge. I learned to pay attention to every sound I made, every word I said, and every shift in his mood. Something as simple as eating a bag of chips could turn into a moment of fear. I remember hiding in the corner while he yelled, not because he wanted to hurt me, but because in that moment, he wasn’t fully himself. That’s one of the hardest parts of loving someone with PTSD, understanding that the person you know and love can feel like someone completely different during an episode.
From 2020 to 2022, I also became my dad’s primary caregiver due to my mom’s struggle with alcohol abuse. During that time, I took on responsibilities that forced me to grow up quickly. I learned how to manage not only practical tasks, but emotional ones, de-escalating situations, offering support, and navigating unpredictable days. While those years were difficult, they shaped my resilience and deepened my understanding of what families of veterans often go through behind closed doors.
Through these experiences, I have learned that PTSD is not just an individual struggle, it is a family experience. It impacts communication, trust, and emotional safety. I have also learned how strong people can be, even in the middle of that struggle. My dad’s experience has shown me both the weight of PTSD and the importance of compassion, patience, and proper support systems.
At the same time, these experiences have left me with fears, especially as the spouse of a veteran. I sometimes worry about history repeating itself and what that could mean for my future. But instead of letting that fear control me, it has motivated me. It has given me a clear sense of purpose.
As a social work major, I hope to work within the U.S. Department of Veterans Affairs, focusing on PTSD counseling for veterans and their families. I want to be the kind of support that I know is so often missing, someone who understands both the clinical side of PTSD and the lived experience of it. I want to help veterans feel seen without judgment, and help families feel supported rather than isolated.
More importantly, I want to advocate for better resources and awareness around PTSD, especially for families who are often overlooked in the conversation. No child should feel like they have to walk on eggshells in their own home, and no family should have to navigate PTSD without guidance.
My experiences have not been easy, but they have given me clarity. They have shown me the kind of work that matters and the kind of impact I want to have. I don’t just want to understand PTSD, I want to be part of the change that helps veterans and their families heal.