PsychBytes

A publication of the Washington Baltimore Center for Psychoanalysis

Share This Post

Moral Injury

Nancy Sherman, PhD
Member, The Washington Center for Psychoanalysis
January 2017 | Volume 4 | Issue 1

Thousands of soldiers from the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan are re-entering civilian life with invisible wounds: some with post traumatic stress disorder from killing or witnessing death and dismembering injuries, but also with moral injuries, which may be hidden or medicated with alcohol and drugs, and which require different treatment approaches than fear based trauma.

Some returning soldiers feel the guilt of surviving due to luck and state of the art medical intervention, experiencing that good luck as a betrayal of buddies. Others feel culpable for the loss of soldiers they have commanded and whose backs they covered, even if the actual cause of death was bad luck. One 19-year-old Marine, who served in Fallujah and Marja, said, “They’re all like little brothers who I trained.”

Others feel shame or helplessness about deaths occurring while they were absent, believing their presence could have prevented the deaths. For others the sense of moral betrayal is a sense of the awful costs of wars poorly conceived and unending. For them there is work finding meaning in experiences of wars that have come to feel futile.

Civilians have a role in the healing of moral injury by engaging with soldiers beyond the thin crust of “Thank you for your service.” At the heart of civilian-veteran dialogue is the creation of safe places to talk, for example, watching and reacting to a drama about war such as “Ajax” by Sophocles. It is not easy to tell those who have not been to war about war, not only because of the blood and gore, but because of the feelings evoked.

Engaging with soldiers in their struggle to understand the moral contours of their experience in war honors our moral obligation incurred in sending them to war.

Explore more in PsychBytes

So Near and Yet So Far

In a Rockville, Maryland, churchyard near the site of Chestnut Lodge, the defunct psychoanalytic mecca, F. Scott Fitzgerald and his wife, Zelda, lie buried. Inscribed on their shared tombstone is the final sentence of “The Great Gatsby,” which encapsulates the theme of his novel and evokes the challenge of analytic treatment: “So we beat on, boats against the current, borne back ceaselessly into the past.”

Loop of Familiarity

I went out for a walk today. The air was still, heavy with that strange quiet that sits between reflection and loneliness. I thought of him—the person who adds activity to my life but not depth. We run together, try new restaurants, and share banter that fills the silence. He pushes me out of my physical comfort zone, but not my emotional one.

Content Edit Request

Content Edit Request

Please submit one request at a time.