PTSD in the ADF needs to be treated as a workplace injury

In a recent radio interview with David Curnow (listen here), he asked what could be done to help those who have served in the military deal with their psychological wounds.

My answer strayed onto the way the system makes it very difficult for those who are struggling to seek help.

The way it works is this:
1. If you report you are having psychological issues to the ADF you are often deemed unfit to deploy
2. If you don't deploy there is no place for you in the army

Now when I first heard about number 2, I couldn't believe it was right. But when I questioned the validity of the statement an army psychologist confirmed it was true.

I still grapple to understand how this can be the case. The ADF is a workplace, no? You acquire an injury (this time it happens to be psychological) at your workplace. Does it not count as a workplace injury?

According to the framework of the Workplace Injury Rehabilitation and Compensation Act 2013 (WIRC Act) which aims to help injured workers achieve an early return to work, employers like the ADF should:
– increase the provision of suitable employment to workers who are injured to enable their early return to work
– enhance flexibility in the system and allow for adaptation to the particular needs of disparate work situations
– provide a framework for the effective occupational rehabilitation of injured workers and their early return to work

I just don't see how the ADF is doing this. The headline of a recent article read,
ADF personnel seek PTSD treatment in secrecy to avoid 'career suicide', members say (read here)
It describes how people serving in the ADF are being forced to seek psychological assistance in secret so their careers aren't ruined. How can this do anything but confirm that the system is not working?

Sure, some people will recognise they have a problem and pay to see a therapist in their own time. But others may not. They might be so scared about admitting anything is wrong that they are unwilling to take this kind of action. What happens to them? When they return home to their families, what happens behind those closed doors.

The psychological cost of being deployed on life-threatening military operations is beyond imagining for anyone who except those who have been there. The level of trauma left behind can be so large that it fills, then spills over the top of an individual, splashing onto the family of that person.

If the ADF doesn't do more to help, many people's lives will be broken. Veterans will continue to take their lives. Partners and children will continue to bear the brunt of the system's failure. Something needs to change.

The picture, the words

My fellow school captain, Patrick, unearthed this photo of us. It appeared in the paper when we became captains of our primary school. I wrote about it in my book from memory, but this is the first time I have seen the actual photograph in many years.

Here's how I described it in my book...

'What a pretty face you've got, love,' the photographer had told me as he squished me beside the boy captain for our shot in the mayor's office, after our official welcome into our new roles. 'And you must be smart as well, to be captain. Bet the boys love you.' I wanted to believe his words, but the ideas rested on my skin, unable to penetrate.

When the photo had appeared in the local paper, a big grin lighting my face as I pushed my badge into the lens for the whole world to see, Mum had smiled and hugged me. But her eyes had still been puffy from crying and they hadn't quite met mine. How could good stuff happen to me when she spent ten hours a day sobbing.

Anyway, thought some people who read my book might be interested to see a photo from that time.

The Real Reason Authors Should Be on Social Media, or The Shame of an Audience of Zero at Your Author Talk

I would like to play out a little moment in time that happened to me recently surrounding a Q & A event for my newly published, and first ever book, Enemy.

Scene 1

(Location: Bookshop)

Event Organiser: So how many people do you know are definitely coming tonight?

Me: Umm… I’m not exactly sure anyone is coming. I kind of used up my friends for my book launch

Event Organiser: (Panic stricken look on face) Have you told people about it on social media?

Me: Yeah

Event Organiser: I’m sure people will come. It’ll be great

Fade on my face showing that I am100% sure she is wrong.

Scene 2

(Home)

Me tweeting and facebooking the event again, trying to outrun the growing feeling of shame that comes when planning a party nobody wants to attend. Three responses ping back to me. All friends. All saying something along the lines of, “I was planning on coming, but something has come up.”

Holy Crap.

Scene 3

(Home)

Me:  (text to publicist) I just wanted to let you know that it seems highly unlikely that anyone will be coming to this talk tonight. Sorry for being such a no-friends loser.

Scene 4

(Home)

Publicist: (on phone) I’ve spoken to the bookshop and Cate [my publisher who was doing the Q & A with me]. They both know it may be a no-show. If it is, you can just have a glass of wine and chat with them. You won’t be the first author this has happened to. It’ll be fine. Try not to worry.

Great. So now my publisher knows they should never have produced my book and this bookshop now wishes they had not sacrificed their precious shelf space to stock it. Kill me now.

Scene 5

(Home)

Another message chimes, this time from someone I went to high school with who follows my page on facebook but who I haven’t seen for twenty years.

Friend: I’m still coming tonight, but don’t know how long I can stay.

Me: However long you can stay is more than fine. Look forward to seeing you then.

Brilliant. Now I have a lone witness to my absolute failure as an author and human being.

Scene 6

Just before event

(Location: Bookshop)

Me: Sorry about this. The only people I knew were coming are now not coming, except one guy who probably can’t stay very long. It’s all a bit embarrassing, isn’t it?

Event organiser: I’m sure it’ll be fine.

Woman 1: Are you Ruth Clare?

Me: Yes… are you… here for the event?

Woman 1: Yes. I found out about it on twitter.

Me: (nearly sobbing with relief) I’m so glad you’re here, I thought no one would come!

Man 1: Hi. We met on twitter.

Me: We did! I wasn’t sure if you would come!

Man 1: I’m looking forward to it.

Scene 7

(Location: Bookshop.)

A crowd of eight people gather, looking attentive and friendly.

Cate: Let me welcome you to this event…

END

***

Now firstly, let me say, I am extremely grateful to be in the lucky position of having a bookshop host an event for me at all. May I also say that this particular bookshop did a fantastic job of promoting my Q & A event in their newsletter, in-store and on social media.

My publisher also got in on the act, promoting the event to the large number of followers on social media. I have less than zero complaints that everyone did their absolute best to spread the word about the event.

Let me also say, that in the few weeks since my book, Enemy, has been out in the world it has had some pretty amazing media coverage. I have talked about it on Conversations with Richard Fidler (an hour-long radio interview that broadcasts Australia-wide and has a huge podcast following both here and internationally). It has had a multi-pages excerpt in one of Australia’s largest circulation newspaper publications, The Good Weekend Magazine, which subsequently rolled out to regional centres. It has had an amazing review in The Australian, as well as a few more community radio interviews. It pretty much could not have had a more amazing amount of exposure.

But let’s look at the reality of the situation. This is my first book. People don’t really know me. To ask someone to come to an event like this means asking them to arrange babysitters to put the kids to bed, or leave the excitement of their after-work drinks, or interrupt the very lovely eating of takeaway while watching Netflix.

To attend an author talk takes effort and energy. If people are going to do it, they need to have a good reason why. So what was that reason? For my event, the reason boiled down to the effort I had made at connection on social media.

Apart from one person who attended after reading the excerpt in The Good Weekend, every single person who came to my event was someone who I either met exclusively via twitter or facebook, or who was aware of my event because they followed my posts.

I really had no idea if anyone would come. I was beyond delighted that they did, but I know that unless I had put myself out there, the attendance at my event would have been one person. So if you have been umming and ahhing about whether you want to get involved in social media, may I suggest that you picture yourself in the position I was in.

Your first book is published. You have the opportunity of doing more than one event to promote it. Who are you going to invite? How are they going to know about it? Even if you are with a big publishing house, you are still one person trying to compete with the lure of binge watching House of Cards or Nashville.

People are people. When you are starting out in your career as an author it may be the personal connections you make on-line and in the real world that save your event from complete disaster.

Let the shame of the no-show override your shame of being a blowhard. Start making connections now!