No doubt, committing more troops to the war will mean more soldiers exposed to combat, more individuals left with life-changing injuries, and, as a result, more men and women turning to drugs and alcohol to numb their physical and psychological pain.

Having worked as a psychology intern at the Brooklyn VA, I have witnessed the complicated mental health issues many military personnel confront. When they return from war, their brains do not automatically flip a switch that allows them to readjust to civilian life. Consequently, the mental shift that occurs in the war zone can lead to a host of lingering symptoms, not limited to insomnia, flashbacks, nightmares, and paranoia. Searching for relief, they are prone to self-medication through illicit substances. Others become addicted to the heavy painkillers prescribed to treat their physical wounds.

Often exposed to intense combat trauma—beyond the normal realm of exposure—those who have served in Afghanistan and Iraq are particularly vulnerable. Many face multiple deployments, which increases the likelihood of injury and intensifies the “battlemind” they develop to survive. To date, an estimated 300,000 Iraq and Afghanistan War vets have post-traumatic stress disorder.

These profound challenges make Afghanistan, Iraq, and other military personnel a special population when it comes to treating addiction. Above all, when they seek help, they’re looking for people with military credibility who speak their language. For this reason, we as treatment providers have a responsibility to recruit and train staff who are educated to understand their experience.

In addition to dealing with vets’ chronic pain and psychological wounds, we must be prepared to address other critical issues that can trigger substance abuse, including homelessness, unemployment, and family difficulties.  The VA estimates that about 131,000 vets are homeless on any given night and approximately twice that many may experience homelessness over the course of the year. About one out of every three homeless adults have put on a uniform and served our country. More than 70% of homeless veterans suffer from alcohol and other drug abuse problems.

When it comes to employment, in a 2007 Military.com survey, three-quarters of vets entering the civilian workforce reported “an inability to effectively translate their military skills to civilian terms.” The same survey found that 61% of employers felt they lacked “a complete understanding of the qualifications” of former service members. To this end, helping those who have served gain employable skills should be a component of an effective recovery plan. Of equal importance, we must extend counseling and support to family members, who are directly affected by the trauma servicemen and women experience, but who currently have limited resources for help.

This holistic strategy is part of our coordinated effort as we lay the framework of our new Veterans Program. While the VA and DoD have identified military-related mental health-issues as a top concern, they have also emphasized the role of local agencies and nonprofit organizations to help expand the available care and reach more service members, vets, and their families. With this in mind, in the coming months, we will meet with military personnel who are currently in treatment and begin to develop a program specifically tailored to meet their needs.

Although we cannot predict the fate of the men and women who will join our forces in Afghanistan, it is our duty to ensure that when they return, we will be there.

At the age of eighteen, I saw the Air Force as less of a patriotic duty than a means to an end—a way to finance my college education. But the military played a much more pivotal role in my life than I had imagined. Working in inventory management for four years, I had the opportunity to travel to 29 states and nine different countries. The experience opened my eyes to new cultures and places, and taught me the importance of hard work and discipline.

And, it also taught me how to medicate my feelings with alcohol and drugs. One of the only African American women on our base in Texas, I was young and unprepared to deal with the racial and sexual harassment I faced. Adding to the stress, my tours, lasting three to twelve weeks at a time, required constant traveling—often on fourteen-hour flights, strapped in a C-130 aircraft, in the middle of the night. To cope with the intensity of our work, we regularly binged—and the commanding officers turned a blind eye. If we didn’t like to drink, we could easily find marijuana, LSD, or acid. Sometimes, we’d even take speed before getting on the plane.

The structure of the Air Force kept my drug use to a level where I could still meet everyday responsibilities, but my life began a downward spiral once I returned home. I got into cocaine and eventually transitioned to crack. Within two years, my addiction reached a boiling point. I lost my car, my job at a cosmetics company, and ultimately, I became homeless. Still, I didn’t seek help; the Air Force had trained me to be tough and to believe that I could handle my problems on my own.

It was only after my mom refused to let me come home for Thanksgiving and I participated in a summer tent revival that I finally reached out. I asked my mother to call a relative who had completed the program at Phoenix House and had gone on to work there. I entered Phoenix House on October 12, 1989 and have never looked back.

Today, as I march with Phoenix House in the Veterans Day Parade, I will think of the young men and women returning home after so bravely serving our country. According to the latest NIDA research, 25-30% of Iraq and Afghanistan War veterans have reported symptoms of a mental disorder or cognitive impairment—post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD) being the most common. Between 2004 and 2006, 7.1% of veterans (an estimated 1.8 million people 18 or older) met criteria for substance abuse.

If my story could be an example to any one of these young people, I would tell them, “Psychological wounds are as real as physical ones. If you find yourself turning to alcohol or drugs, don’t think you can manage addiction on your own.”  

As we honor our veterans, we must work to overcome the stigma of treatment. I am living proof that recovery is possible. Twenty years sober, I now have a career that fulfills me in ways that drugs never could—and a marriage to a man I’ve loved for 18 years.

This Veterans Day, I salute both my military family and my Phoenix House family for helping me to become the strong, resilient person I am today.

For information about Phoenix House’s Veterans Program, please contact Tali Shmulovich at tshmulovich@phoenixhouse.org.