CHAPTER 1

Operator Syndrome

“Every time I see a new primary doctor, VA or civilian, they are completely overwhelmed by the sheer number and severity of the different medical issues I have. Nobody knows how to treat me. I’m completely different from any other patient they’ve had.

“For over ten years I struggled to understand why I am the way I am, and to know what was really wrong with me. Then I came across an article on Operator Syndrome and was like, ‘Holy shit, I’m normal!’ I went from feeling totally alone to being part of the tribe again.

“It’s hard to quantify the change I have experienced in the last year to simply understanding that I wasn’t just ‘fucked up.’ Knowing I wasn’t alone in that I was dealing with some very heavy things, and knowing that there was a community forming to tackle them together, gave me hope. I’ve been able to access care that isn’t widely known, or even ‘authorized’ yet for certain conditions.”

—Clay Jensen, U.S. Army Master Sergeant (Ret.),
Special Operations Team-Alpha (SOT-A), 7th Special
Forces Group, Other Government Agency (CIA)
contractor, with seven deployments to
combat zones from 2001 to 2008

“No one warned us about this. As a SEAL wife, I knew that I could lose him or that he could come back wounded or without limbs. These were the hard realities I actually prepared for. But no one ever told us that they would come back from war, looking perfectly fine, and be so completely changed. That our future would be so drastically altered by silent injuries. It makes recovery that much harder because no one thinks anything is wrong, the Operators included.”

—Tania Beaudoin, licensed clinical social worker,
U.S. Navy SEAL spouse

“When I teach current and prior operators about Operator Syndrome, I see lightbulb moments in the room, which is usually followed by an intense sense of relief. So many of them have been told over and over again that there is nothing wrongwith them—that their MRI was normal, or their T-levels were normal (according to the branch’s standard), and that it must be PTSD or some other mental health ‘issue.’”

—Dr. Jennifer Byrne, U.S. Air Force veteran,
Special Operations spouse

“When educating operators on Operator Syndrome, the most common response is: ‘How did you know?’ This response is usually expressed with a tone of relief and a subtle smile. For the operator, it marks a moment of validation and a glimmer of hope: ‘Maybe I’m not alone.’ Understanding that their brain is injured and they aren’t broken illuminates a light at the end of the tunnel.”

—Hoagie, Special Operator (Ret.)

I magine a male medical patient in his late thirties who describes the following symptoms to his doctor: low mood, insomnia, irritability, low motivation, low energy, and poor concentration. The patient’s expression is flat, and his face looks weary. His shoulders are slumped a little, and he stares at the floor a lot. During the clinical interview, he acknowledges that he has been drinking heavily for the past few months and arguing more with his girlfriend. He doesn’t understand what is wrong with him. He’s never been like this before.

In most modern medical settings, this patient is virtually guaranteed to receive a diagnosis of major depressive disorder and probably at least one or two other psychiatric