This is the interview I did with project-delta. They have helped me come a long way with understanding how PTSD effects my everyday life. Please share!
It’s been almost a week since Tank has left and I’m hanging on by a thread already. I’ve noticed quite a few changes in the way I approach life that I forgot I used to do.
“I seriously wish that I had full control over my mind, body and spirit. I have my body and spirit in tip- top condition, but my mind just seems to do whatever the heck it wants sometimes.”
For instance, I’ve noticed that I clench my jaw when I’m under stress, which is almost every second that I’m outside of the house on my own. Two days after Tank left my jaw hurt really bad. I couldn’t eat it was so painful.
It felt like my teeth were going to fall out. I went to bed with my face throbbing.
The morning after, the pain got slightly better but I was only able to eat soft foods for half the day.
It comes from the Hyper-vigilance that engulfs me wherever I go. Even at home I can’t stand in the yard or my garage without “hearing” someone walk up behind me, making me watch my back like someone’s trying to kill me. I can’t stop watching for danger.
It feels like I’m slowly reverting back to my old state of mind like before I started my search for a service dog.
It’s weird how infused Tank was with my life. I still hold reminiscence of him within every stride I make in life. Sometimes I hear his collar jingle and get a jolt of excitement thinking he’s walking up behind me, only to turn and be devastated by reality.
I don’t think I’m going down a path that will revert me back to the dark place I was in just a few years ago. Mainly because I have structure within my life now. I wake up and take care of my daughter and then I write and promote my book.
I’m still on a mission to save as many veterans lives as I possibly can before I’m whisked off to a better place.
It won’t be long before I’m paired with another dog, so these feelings of despair and depression will soon fade. Until then I have to strive to fight my demons on my own in order to help motivate others to do the same.
It’s been almost a week since Tank has left and I’m already hanging on by a thread. I’ve noticed quite a few changes in the way I approach life that I forgot I used to do.
“I seriously wish that I had full control over my mind, body and soul.”
I have my body and soul in tip- top condition, but my mind just seems to do whatever the heck it wants sometimes.
For instance, I’ve noticed that I clench my jaw when under stress, which is almost every second that I’m outside of the house on my own. Two days after Tank left my jaw hurt really bad. I couldn’t eat it was so painful.
“It felt like my teeth were going to fall out. I went to bed with my face throbbing.”
The pain got slightly better the morning after, but I was only able to eat soft foods for half the day before it started hurting again.
It comes from the Hyper-vigilance that engulfs me wherever I go. I can’t even stand in the yard or my garage at home without “hearing” someone walk up behind me, making me watch my back like someone’s trying to kill me. I can’t stop watching out for danger.
It feels like I’m slowly reverting back to my old state of mind like before I started my search for a service dog.
Tank
A Soul Infused with Tank
It’s weird how infused Tank was with my life. I still hold reminiscence of him within every stride I make in life. Sometimes I get a jolt of excitement to hear his collar thinking he’s walking up behind me, only to turn and be devastated by reality.
I don’t think I’m going down a path that will revert me back to the dark place I was in just a few years ago. Mainly because I have structure within my life now. I wake up and take care of my daughter and then I write and promote my book.
I’m still on a mission to save as many veterans lives as I possibly can before I’m whisked off to a better place.
It won’t be long before I’m paired with another dog, so these feelings of despair and depression will soon fade. Until then I have to strive to fight my demons on my own in order to help motivate others to do the same.
Tank has left a everlasting impression within my heart…
I can’t stop the tears from rolling down my cheek. It been two days without Tank and my hearts grown weak. Our bond will last within my heart forever, Broken only by time and this body that withers. Tank, dear friend, I love you so much, Although it feels like the end, I’ll always be able to remember your touch.
Although it feels like the end of my journey, I can’t accept giving up.
“One door closes, another one opens” has to be my mentality.
One day as I look back at this situation, I’ll have a great new best friend by my side and my heart won’t feel heavy with sorrow.
I’ve just received news from Project Delta that a couple in a town near me is interested in fostering and possibly adopting Tank. This coming up Sunday I’m going to bring him over to their house for a meet and greet. They really sound like a nice couple and I’m hoping the best for our upcoming meeting.
I really started to think about the awesome relationship that Tank and I have since hearing he’ll be going to a better place soon. He’s saved me from the emptiness I’ve felt inside since coming home from war.What I’ve been actively trying to fix about myself for the past thirteen years was accomplished within a few months of being with Tank.
Tank isn’t your ordinary dog. He’s smart beyond belief. The first time I saw him I knew that there was something special about him. He immediately caught my attention the way that he was so cautious in how he approached everything. I was told not to pet him the first time he walked up to me, it took every ounce of patience that I had not to. ‘He’s such a pretty dog’ I remember thinking as he looked at me with his soft mahogany brown eyes as he walked past me.
It felt like the constant fog of anger and frustration that was over me parted. The calm came over me felt so good. As he made he second round around the room I was told to calm him over to me. All I did was say, “Come here boy!” and he ran straight into my hands. As I per him he rubbed his head across my leg over and over again
Something started stirring up inside my chest that I haven’t felt in a long time. After a while I noticed that I had a smile was smeared across my face.
I knew he was the one. When everyone asked what I thought about him, I couldn’t help but to say yes. They told me that I would know deep down inside when I’ve found a great dog to pair, they weren’t lying.
The bond between us grew stronger the more time we trained together. After two months I noticed a huge change in how I approached the world. I started having positive thought instead of negative. My mind was clear enough for me to take my time whenever I had to go to a store with my family. If Tank wasn’t so overprotective he would have been the perfect service dog.
Now I’m stuck with giving this extraordinary dog over to a couple that he could possible grow a stronger bond with forever. It really sucks to think about it. I actually feel jealous, but I know he’ll be happier, especially with another dog’s for him to sniff. Ha!
Today I’ll start out by saying I’ve never felt more alive than I have with my buddy Tank. Just a year ago I was having anxiety attacks overtime I left my house, so I just stayed inside as much as I could. I couldn’t go out by myself because my mind would play tricks on me, causing me flashbacks that would send my mood spiraling out of control.
Since having my buddy around, I don’t get caught up in the unexpected anymore because he keeps me grounded. Now when I’m in public and I feel like overwhelmed all I have to do is reach down and pet Tank. His soft fur and baby brown eyes always grabs my attention and everything else seems to fade away.
I wish I could have Tank forever. Sadly, after three months of training I’ve found that he isn’t the right dog for the job, here’s why.
A week ago I had to go into my chiropractor office to get some work done. When we first got there, Tank was fine. I signed in and took a seat, Tank laid down next to me. When my doctor came around the corner and looked at me, Tank got upset and started growling at him. I told him to stop as I stood up to shake his hand.
After I was done on a back stretching machine, my doctor came into the dimly lit room and walked over to unstrap me. Tank started growling ferociously at him again. I pulled him close to me and held onto his collar so that the doctor could unstrap me because he wouldn’t quit. When I got up, I stood over to the side of the doctor. Tank went quite so I released his collar and held onto his leash, but within a second he lunged towards the doctor and nipped at him.
If my doctor wouldn’t have jumped back Tank would have taken a bit of his leg instead of his pants. I was in total shock with what happened and I apologized profusely. When we walked out of the office I didn’t want to look at Tank. I’ve never seen him act so violently towards someone.
Quite honestly I was scared; not of Tank, but for him. If he would have bitten my doctor he would be put down. Before this had happened, I didn’t think he could be so aggressive, he acts like a baby any other time, so what happened?
I talked with my trainer Lindsay and told her what happen. She let me know that I shouldn’t take him into public again until she can see his reaction. I want to say I listened to her, but I had appointments and shopping to do so I kept bringing him with me.
One day while I was at the VA hospital talking to one of my friends, Tank lunged at him when he was coming in to shake my hand. He put his jaws around his hand but didn’t bit down. Other than scaring my friend half to death, nothing serious happened. It was at that moment where I started to worry about bringing him anywhere.
I met up with Lindsay at the mall one evening so she could see what Tank does. She had her husband try to provoke Tank by walking by us. Tank didn’t react the first two times, but the third time when he walked up slowly behind me and started to place his hand on my shoulder, Tank went manic.
He started barking nonstop, lunging at her husband with everything he had. It took a lot for me to hold him back. Even after Lindsay walked up and introduced her husband to Tank, with treats, he still wouldn’t stop barking. I walked off with him to calm him down, but every person that passed us seemed to provoke a bad response out of him.
Lindsay didn’t like what she saw at all. It didn’t take long for her to make the vision to stop training him to be a service dog because this was the dog he really was. She said that our bond is so strong that he fells it necessary to be over protective of me.
“There was no way we could have known he would be like this” she told me. Something inside of me shattered at hearing that. I thought for sure Tank was going to be with me forever, or at least until he passed on to doggy heaven. To think after months of training everything is over for us.
Lindsay explained to me that not every dog makes it through training. There is actually only a 40 percent pass rate for service dogs.
I have a lot to think over the next two weeks. I have to figure out if Tank will stay with us while I try to train another dog or am I going to give him up for adoption. It’s so hard to even think about him not being with us anymore. Tank is so intertwined with me and my family, he is loved beyond words. But, I need a service dog for the goals I want to accomplish.
I’m stuck between a rock and a hard place. It’s caused quite a controversy in my household. It seems like every day since I told my family about the situation we start to argue about what we should do. My daughter was literally in tears over this. She even told me I don’t care about Tank.
If only she knew how much he meant to me. I’m already starting to feel a difference with him not next to me all the time.
I don’t know. I just don’t know anymore. Controversy
My name is Samuel Murray Boney IV, Combat Medic veteran of the United States Army. I’ve struggled with Combat PTSD and severe pain for the last 10 years after serving with the 1st Cavalry Division in Operation Iraqi Freedom/Enduring Freedom from 2004-05, the craziest 14 months of my life. I publishing my book Combat Medic: A soldier’s story of the Iraq warhoping to reach out to veterans to let them know that the fight with PTSD is real and that they’re not alone.
While out promoting I ran into an organization called Project Delta. They specialize in paring Veterans that have PTSD and Traumatic Brain Injury ( TBI) with Dogs from local shelters to be trained service dogs. A week after signing up for the program I was brought to a shelter to be paired. Everyone in the program kept telling me that I didn’t have to pick him even before I saw him. But when I saw him I knew he was an awesome dog and I couldn’t let him go. I named him Tank, it suites him well.
My hope is that through this eight month process of training for certification to public access, Tank will become the tool I need to get out into the world to share my story. I can help save countless lives from suicide if I can get my story out to the right people. This will be my journey, the road Tank and I will travel to teach veterans these three simple values of life: Love, Family and Salvation in hopes that they can live better lives with PTSD like me.
It’s weird how infused Tank was with my life. I still hold reminiscence of him within every stride I make in life. Sometimes I hear his collar jingle and get a jolt of excitement thinking he’s walking up behind me, only to turn and be devastated by reality.
Combat Medic 