Post-SGB, I’m able to be better present at home, work, and in my community

When you’re serving in the Marine Corps and training for and deploying to combat, it’s necessary to be aggressive—biased for action and prepared for the worst possible contingencies. Keeping your mind, body, and spirit ready for this is part of our culture, and for good reason. Being fit for the task isn’t for everyone. Marines carry a lifelong pride in knowing we did what others couldn’t, but at some point post-service, the intensity, stress, hypervigilance, and layering on of trauma catches up to you.

As a young Marine, it’s easy to have a higher view of yourself than you should. Part of this is physiological—case in point: a still-developing prefrontal cortex—and the rest is multi-dimensional: varying degrees of naïveté, immaturity, questionable judgment, inexperience, lack of emotional intelligence, etc. Perhaps part of it is self-protection too. If we fully knew what we would experience and how it would affect us before we joined, would we still have had the courage to step forward and take risks like we did?

Life moves on after your EAS/ETS, but the way we are—and/or how we have become—can endure. Going from 100mph to slamming on the brakes has consequences, whether seen in the moment or realized over time. Experiencing hard things can be the same way. We might push them down deep, either trying to forget, ignoring for a time, or coping to do both. But then, in seemingly random moments, we learn that these memories, thoughts, and feelings can and will come back when we either don’t want or least expect them. If we haven’t properly dealt with our aggression, hypervigilance, and trauma, how do we react? In control or out of control? Reasonably or unreasonably? Commensurate to the situation or by incorrectly perceiving a threat? Well-reasoned or embarrassingly?

We all carry weight in our pack from before we joined. More weight is added to our pack by our experiences in service. If we think we’re stronger than we are, we might be tempted to think we can keep rucking without consequences. We’re tough and we’ve been through worse, so no factor, right? And yet, we eventually wear out. Yes, we have endured, and yes, we can endure, but are we pretending we’re tougher than we actually are?

Getting help is hard: from admitting you need it, to figuring out what you might do about it, to executing on this support, to being committed to making changes so you can continue healing, to being open with your loved ones—maybe even for the first time—so you can get out of your way of self-protectionism and be vulnerable to others seeing you hurting. This is hard work: mentally, emotionally, psychologically, physiologically, and spiritually.

Getting help isn’t weakness. Weakness is knowing we have a problem, being dishonest with ourselves and our loved ones about the degree to which it is affecting us, and being too proud to do the hard thing. We were trained to endure hard things, and we have, so pushing away the hard work of dealing with our stuff is pretty ironic. We just need the courage to start. Life is hard. We will all experience some form of trauma: before, during, and after military service. While we can’t always control the way our minds and bodies respond to this, we have some agency in our avenues of approach to the objective: healing.

For years both during and post-service, I felt “stuck.” I didn’t fully know why, how to describe it, or how to fix it, but something was “stuck.” Fellow Marine Dakota Meyer’s testimonial put me on to Stellate Ganglion Blocks, Dr. Lynch, and the Stellate Institute. Learning about the complementary functions of the sympathetic nervous system and its controlling our fight or flight response and, in parallel, the parasympathetic nervous system’s controlling our ability to rest and reset, clicked for me. My system needed a computer reboot to help get me “un-stuck” and able to work through some of the weight in my pack.

In late 2023, a dual SGB treatment by Dr. Lynch helped me get “un-stuck.” This wasn’t the panacea that cured all ills. It was a piece of the puzzle in working through my physical, mental, emotional, and spiritual struggles post-Marines, but a key piece in this process. It’s hard to put into words how vital this has been in my healing, but I’ll testify that—even five weeks later—I feel the calmest I have in 15 years. I have patience with my kids, myself, and gained some good humility and maturity in the process. I realized how much I’ve held on to some of the weight on my back—and how yielding these at God’s feet, supported by my family, church, and the right medical professionals, has helped.

By no means am I fixed, and that’s ok. Post-SGB, I’m able to be better present at home, work, and in my community by God’s grace and through the care, concern, and resolve of Dr. Lynch and the Stellate Institute/ROSM team. For this I’m grateful—and resolved to encourage my military brothers and sisters to explore SGB as an avenue in your healing process. May God bless you in considering this and, if SGB becomes part of your story, I hope it helps you to find relief too.

R.L.