Breaking the Silence
As someone who’s spent 26 years in the military, including 15 grueling months in Iraq’s ‘Triangle of Death,’ I’ve witnessed firsthand the immense psychological toll that combat takes on soldiers. We come back with scars that aren’t always visible. PTSD, anxiety, depression—these aren’t just concepts we read about; they’re the realities we live with every day. And yet, for many of us, seeking help is the last thing we want to do. The question is: why?
The truth is there are deeply ingrained barriers that prevent military members from seeking mental health services. These barriers are complex, multilayered, and often deeply personal. In my years of service and in talking to my fellow veterans, I’ve realized that we’re not just fighting our minds—we’re fighting a culture that tells us we should be able to handle it all on our own.
The Military Culture of Stoicism and Strength
From day one in the military, we’re taught that strength is everything. We’re conditioned to believe that showing vulnerability is a sign of weakness and that mental health struggles are something to be pushed down, not dealt with. I can remember countless times when soldiers were told to “suck it up” or to “drive on.” I recall a specific incident during a training exercise where a soldier was struggling with anxiety, and instead of being encouraged to seek help, he was told to ‘man up’ and ‘get over it.’ Mental toughness isn’t just valued in the military—it’s expected. And for many of us, admitting that we need help feels like a betrayal of that expectation.
This cultural norm doesn’t just affect us during service—it follows us home. When I came back from Iraq, I found myself grappling with the effects of PTSD and moral injury. But even though I knew something wasn’t right, I kept it to myself. I had spent so many years being strong, being the guy who could handle anything, that the idea of sitting down and talking to someone about my struggles felt foreign and uncomfortable. It felt like I would be admitting defeat. I remember driving home in a brand new Jeep Wrangler I had bought with the money I saved just looking at each telephone pole as I passed it by, wanting to crash into one of them at a high rate of speed and end everything. I was too proud to ask for help, so I suffered silently, not realizing it was okay to seek help.
But that’s the problem. The military conditions us to equate seeking help with weakness, and it’s one of the biggest reasons so many of us don’t pursue mental health services. We fear what others might think and how they might see us. We worry that we’ll be judged, ostracized, or seen as less capable. And that stigma is powerful enough to keep even the most resilient soldiers from getting the care they need.
Fear of Career Consequences
Another significant barrier to seeking mental health care in the military is the fear of how it might affect our careers. I’ve seen it repeatedly: a soldier knows he needs help but avoids seeking it because he’s afraid it will derail his career. And it’s not an unfounded fear. In the military, your reputation is everything, and the perception that you’re “unstable” or “unfit” can have real consequences for your career progression.
I’ve had friends who were worried that going to mental health services would put a target on their back. They feared being labeled as “broken” or “damaged,” which could affect their ability to deploy or receive promotions. In the military, where your entire life is centered around your ability to serve, the thought of being sidelined because of a mental health diagnosis is terrifying. So, instead of getting help, many choose to tough it out, hoping the symptoms will disappear, or you get tougher.
But they don’t go away. Ignoring PTSD, depression, or anxiety doesn’t make it disappear. It only makes things worse. I know this because I’ve lived it. I tried to “power through” my struggles, thinking that if I just stayed busy enough and stayed focused enough, I could outrun the effects of my trauma. But eventually, it caught up with me, and I had to confront the reality that I couldn’t do it alone. It takes immense courage to seek help, and it’s a step that can lead to a brighter future.
The Mistrust of Mental Health Professionals
Another barrier that prevents military members from seeking mental health services is a deep mistrust of mental health professionals. Many of us fear that the therapists, counselors, or psychologists we talk to won’t understand what we’ve been through. How could they? Unless they’ve been in combat themselves, it’s hard to imagine that anyone could truly comprehend the kind of trauma that military members experience.
I’ve had conversations with fellow veterans who’ve said things like, “Why should I talk to someone who’s never even been in a firefight?” or “How could they possibly get what it’s like to lose a brother in combat?” This skepticism is natural and is one of the biggest reasons many military members don’t seek help. They feel that talking to a civilian mental health professional will be a waste of time because there’s no way they could understand the depth of the trauma.
For me, that mistrust was something I had to work through as well; growing up fatherless deepened that distrust due to childhood trauma. I hesitated to open up to anyone who hadn’t been in my shoes. It wasn’t until it put me in a chokehold and almost took everything from me that I forced myself to start seeking help. Many people outside of military service, like our employers and colleagues, do not understand the military culture; they sat awkwardly as I talked about the surface-level stuff, testing them to see how they might respond, which made me shrug it off and act like nothing was wrong. It’s crucial for those who work with veterans to have this level of understanding and empathy. But not everyone finds that kind of connection, and for many, the fear of not being understood keeps them from seeking help.
The Stigma of Mental Health Diagnosis
One of the things that kept me from seeking help for so long was the fear of what a mental health diagnosis might mean for me. Would it mean I wasn’t as strong as I thought I was? Would it mean that I was somehow broken or flawed? These are the kinds of thoughts that go through your mind when you’re considering reaching out for help.
The stigma of a mental health diagnosis is accurate, especially in the military. Many of us fear being labeled, whether it’s PTSD, depression, or anxiety. We don’t want to be seen as “crazy” or “unstable.” We don’t want to be treated differently or looked at with pity. So, we avoid the label altogether by avoiding the diagnosis. But I’ve realized that getting help isn’t about accepting a label but reclaiming control over my life.
Breaking the Silence
The biggest challenge we face as military members when it comes to mental health is breaking the silence. The culture of stoicism, the fear of career consequences, the mistrust of professionals—these are all barriers that keep us locked in a cycle of suffering. But it doesn’t have to be that way.
I’m speaking from experience when I say seeking help is not a sign of weakness. It’s a sign of strength. It takes courage to admit that you can’t do it alone and need support. Sometimes, it takes leaving something you love or feel called to do so you can find the right tribe that will support you. Once I took that step and started talking about what I was going through, I realized how many others were also struggling in silence.
We need to change the culture in the military when it comes to mental health. We need to create an environment where seeking help is seen as a necessary part of staying fit to serve—not as something that will derail your career or post-career. We must build trust between mental health professionals, employers, faith communities, military members, families, and veterans, ensuring that those needing care feel understood and supported. And most importantly, we need to break the stigma surrounding mental health diagnoses so that no one feels ashamed for seeking the help they need.