My name is Spc. Hugo Gonzalez and I am a legally blind
wounded American Veteran.
Recently I was examined by a civilian ophthalmologist for an examination.
After a brief good morning from the nurse, she put the medicine in my eyes for
them to dilate and get ready for the doctor to come in. Shortly after the
doctor comes in and goes to get a glance at the back of my eye and abruptly
says, “my son, how did you do this to your eyes? What happened to you?!” I told
him I was injured in a road side bomb in Iraq, the explosion happened so close
to my head that a hot piece of shrapnel penetrated my left eye. That was the
end of the conversation.
To say that my day begins when I wake up in the morning isn’t
very accurate. I have to consider what kind of struggles I went through the
night before just to fall asleep. I toss and turn, and have all sorts of roller
coaster thoughts on various unrelated topics and situations that have happened
days, months or even years ago. I lay awake thinking and analyzing how things
happen, how things work, and how I would have preferred things to have happened
including alternate endings to the most catastrophic thing that has happened to
my family, my injury. By the time I realized I haven’t fallen asleep yet, the
sun is starting to come through the window.
Then I start the day feeling guilty because I probably kept my wife
awake with my constant movement and she needs to get up and get our children
ready for school. I must not succumb to
the tiredness and push through the day…I have to keep pushing forward. After
all, I am a soldier.
Because of my Visual impairment, I reject the glimpses of
reality offered to me when I’m out and about, and because of the thickness of
the macular hole that is on my left retina I can’t focus on anything that’s
farther than three feet in front of me even with my good eye. My right eye
sustained a complete optical neuropathy, which means the optical nerve was
completely crushed. I am blind in my right eye. So the things that I can see at
any distance are usually surreal reproductions or interpretations of what I
remember of the world I love so much.
My physical injury may sound very traumatic but the truth is
there is nothing worse or more severe than the symptoms of Post-Traumatic
Stress that I suffer from and that my family suffers from my blindness. I do
the best that I can daily, and compensate accordingly, but PTSD is silent.
Silent, and dangerous. How do you fight a silent predator that is waiting for
the best opportunity to strike? There are times that it is impossible for me to
concentrate on the task that I’m working on because all I can think of is the
worst case scenario, or the worst things that have ever happened to me. Living
in the past, and constantly reliving things in my head and not allowing my mind
to come into the present. That’s just part of what I have to battle on a daily
basis, and it puts strain on my family and myself because of how unpredictable
that part of my injury can be.
The combination of my physical injury and my invisible injury
can make things a hundred times more frustrating. It’s just not normal to be
sitting at the dinner table and listening to your child tell you about how good
her day was and all you can think about is how you are feeling at that very
moment almost as if you’re standing on a bridge getting ready to bungee jump
down. It doesn’t help that I can barely see her. It’s hard to not feel secluded
and like you are drowning in your own misery. Sometimes during the day, I have to go to a
quiet place and do something like listen to music to try to relieve some of the
pressure I feel. It’s like a buildup in me that just won’t go away. It’s very
painful at times. Then I have to live with the guilty feeling that I’m pushing
my loved ones away, that I leave them feeling like they did something to make
me go away. But the truth is, it’s me and the monster that lives in my head,
and the frustration of not being able to see their beautiful faces. I struggle
to find way to communicate this with them so they understand how I’m feeling
but I can’t.
This all may sound very sad, hard to read, and difficult to
understand, but I am hardly sad. I believe that God has been with me every step
of the way. As you can see from the picture, I have felt his presence since the
beginning. I feel that he has given me a loving wife who is there for me when I
need her. To put her warm hands on me every day and to remind me that I am
alive. That I survived and I am strong. I believe he gave me my children to
remind me how blessed I am and to never stop loving unconditionally and having
fun. It takes exceptional people to live, love, and accept a wounded veteran.
Especially a wounded veteran who has seen such tragedy in war and lives with
the demons daily. Also, I thank my God for the therapeutic benefits I’ve
received from The Coalition to Salute America’s Heroes. Because of my
participation with the Heroes Thanking Heroes Program, just calling to say
thank you to donors for their support helps me feel like I’m productive again
and contributing to my family and oddly enough, the hours I spend in front of
my computer calling and thanking our loving supporters allows my mind to never
wonder off into unwanted thoughts. This part of my day is my medicine, it’s my
therapy.
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