invisible injury

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A Retired Marine And A Photojournalist Confront War’s ‘Invisible Injuries’

After Marine Sgt. Thomas (“TJ”) Brennan was hit by the blast from a rocket-propelled grenade in Afghanistan in 2010, he suffered a traumatic brain injury that left him unable to recall much of his immediate past — including, at times, the name of his own daughter.

“When I got blown up, it erased a lot of my memories,” Brennan says.

Brennan began therapies to address his TBI. He used the 200 letters he’d exchanged with his wife to put together a broad narrative of his time at war. When it came to the grenade blast itself, Brennan pieced together the sequence of events surrounding his injury with the help of Finbarr O'Reilly, a photographer who had embedded with Brennan’s unit in Afghanistan.

“I have the whole sequence documented of him,” O'Reilly says. “One of the things I … [photographed] was this Afghan national policeman who fired the rocket that ultimately went astray and blew up very close to TJ, knocking him unconscious … and the explosion afterwards, and the guys who went to recover TJ.”

Back in the U.S., both men struggled with the aftereffects of war. Brennan suffered from PTSD and debilitating depression, while O'Reilly grappled with the psychological toll of years spent documenting human brutality in conflict zones across the world. Together, they collaborated on a memoir, called Shooting Ghosts, about what Brennan refers to as the “invisible injuries” of war.

Photos (Top) A U.S. Marine from the 1st Battalion, 8th Marines, Alpha Company looks out as an evening storm gathers above an outpost near Kunjak, in southern Afghanistan’s Helmand province.

Bottom: Photographer Finbarr O'Reilly says he was drawn to Afghanistan’s “rugged, cinematic desert landscape.”

Finbarr O'Reilly/Reuters/Viking

Reader Insert Masterlist Part II

Teen Wolf:

The Internship:

The Maze Runner:

Cross-Over:

Lord of The Rings/The Hobbits:

Supernatural:

Prompts:

Teen Wolf:

Supernatural:

The Maze Runner:

Doctor Who:

Harry Potter:

Has it been easy...

No honestly it hasn’t. I have been discounted and discredited by health “professionals” and the very lawyers who were suppose to advocate my cause.


I am a black woman who has had a Traumatic Brain Injury and I have a spasmodic condition that leaves me without control of my involuntary movements from the waist down.


It is difficult to talk about,but it is more difficult for my sisters and brothers who have suffered through much worse and especially those who have fought in battles or conflict. They have been brave as they face more than I could ever imagine.


I think of soldiers who have to continue to “function” after TBI as they deal with PTSD. With physical and mental injuries they continue on.They are my heroes.


It may be not much just my one voice. But maybe someone may remember something I have said and they will give pause and see the need to support those they come in contact with differently than they would have before.


Just as diabetic needs insulin so does the wounded brain and psyche need an injection of awareness and compassion with proper medical assessments,diagnosis and treatment.
With Much Love and Hope to all of you. Thank you for the love and support messages and encouragement. Not feeling abounded and alone does make a difference. I am grateful for you all.

a little strider ficlet

Dirk + Dave, just over 1,000 words. some time shenanigans. 

post Act 7. new world stuff. 

This is good. You’re down for this. Sitting here in the breeze off the lake, sun warming the tops of your shoulders. Your coffee is still too hot to drink; milk makes you sick to your stomach, and you refuse to add ice. Dilutes that shit. 

Dave had choked his coffee with cream, then stared you down like he was daring you to call him on it. You don’t know what the fuck your other self had against his health and wellbeing, but you really hate the guy for it. You’re honestly surprised every time Dave wants to hang out, but you’re grateful. Really fucking grateful.

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Cont. from  ❪


It wasn’t often the subject was brought up. It wasn’t often Natsume came to him with questions and while he had already answered most of them he could only stare at the other in shock. He proclaimed to be hurt, yet there were no visible injuries and for the life of him he can’t see past that. There was something in the way; a conflict and it only echoed in the form of words his father had drilled into him with each and every blow to show him what pain truly was. 

   ❛ —You want to know what real pain is, kid? I’ll show ya real pain. ❜

That was right. There was no such thing as invisible injuries. One couldn’t hurt like that on the inside. It was all excuses and made people angry. There may have been a point where Tsumugi had had his feelings hurt, where he had recognized and validated them, but he could no longer see it; he had had that beaten out of him a long time ago. So, why was Natsume…? There was conflict in those golden eyes and all he could do was smile as if to say it was all going to be ok.

         ❝Natsume-kun, you really scared me that day. I thought we were going to have to get you to the infirmary. I thought someone hurt you. B-but Eichi’s plan worked. The academy is saved now thanks to you and him– you’ll get to graduate and be an idol if you wish. It won’t be like it was before. Eichi promised… s-so if it meant giving away your secrets I’d gladly do it and everything all over again just to see everyone get a chance at being something. ❞ Everyone but him. He had never expected to benefit from it or be anything more than what he already was. But surly the lowest of the low could help the ones that had a chance, right? 

He had asked about Shu’s doll Mademoiselle, too. His smile grew even more distant at that and for a moment he remembered the displeasure dolls had brought his mother when she caught him playing with them at the school. They weren’t for boys, how dare he embarrass her and disgust her. How many strikes had that cost him when he didn’t listen, when a girl at the training school spread the rumors around about it and she found out; when she caught him? 

       ❝Shu-kun is so talented. I’m just worried it will be frowned on when we graduate. Also, haven’t you noticed it, Natsume-kun? It’s like he can’t hear her anymore– it’s becoming more and more frequent. What will he do if he’s not prepared for the day when all the magic from that doll leaves him? ❞

@mahoutsukaisan

  • Depresion: You're worthless, you mean nothing to anyone, you're invisible.
  • Self-Injury: Go ahead, dig into your skin, burn yourself, see if you're really alive, see if you can feel anything.
  • Sucidial Thoughts: You matter to no one, just overdoes again.
  • Anorexia: You're too fat, stop eating
  • Bulimia: You ate too much salad, get it out now!
  • Insomnia: You haven't slept in 4 days? Let's think of all the reasons why you're a failure.

anonymous asked:

38 rose/ten bc the thought of them in a police uniform is hot lol

#6 The One With The Warden

1600~ words, Teen, #38 - Cop/Person Getting A Parking Ticket AU



The first time they crossed paths, he was sprinting out of his publisher’s office, racing against time, hoping against all hope that his legs and gravity would somehow meld together and produce a miracle.

No such luck. The warden had her ticket pad in hand as he jogged up to her, out of breath.

“Come on,” he said pleadingly, “Give us a break, I’ve an hour at least!”

“I wait five minutes before I issue a ticket in a pay-and-display car park,” she said with her head bent, reciting from memory in a monotone as she scribbled, “And two minutes for someone on yellow lines, unless the lines are zigzags or stripes on the kerb, which means no loading.” She pointed at the line peeking out under the wheel of his car. “That’s an instant fine.”

The very loud groan that issued from his lungs made her turn her head his way, giving him a look at her face for the first time.

He was instantly distracted.

Her blonde hair was gathered in a tight knot at the back of her head, showing off a graceful neck and a face full of character, high cheekbones and full rosy lips. The eyes that surveyed him from under slightly narrowed eyebrows were the warmest shade of honeyed brown he’d ever seen, like the colour of perfectly brewed tea right before you added the milk… blimey, he was thirsty from running.

“Feel free to appeal to the council,” she said, handing him the ticket. “Have a nice day.”

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The Heads Together campaign is intended to raise awareness and end the stigma attached to mental health. A source said the three royals hoped next year’s event would become known as the ‘mental health marathon’. The campaign will officially launch on May 16 and provide 250 places for runners. Competitors will raise money for a group of mental health charities with which the three royals are working. (…)


As part of the initiative, the three are working with their Royal Foundation to develop mental health programmes offering support for schools, workplaces and veterans. The year-long campaign will also involve joint and solo engagements, with each focused on particular areas. Harry, who will attend today’s London marathon and who served two tours of duty in Afghanistan, will concentrate on the “invisible injuries” of servicemen and women. The Duchess will focus on the mental health problems suffered by children and the Duke will highlight the difficulties affecting young men, in particular male suicide. As part of the campaign, the Duke will also launch a project on bullying and cyberbullying.

—  Roya Nikkah (x)