Tired from War: My Story of Secondary Trauma as a Central Valley Service Spouse

By Jana N. Yost, M.A. (CMH, HSC), APCC, ECSE

For years, I thought I was just tired.

I was anxious all the time. I could not sleep through the night. I was on edge and easily irritated. I found myself yelling at my kids more than I wanted to. I disconnected from people and stayed busy because there was always something that needed to be done.

Looking back, staying busy was both a coping strategy and a form of avoidance. There was always another responsibility, another move, another deployment, another transition, or another family need that required my attention. Staying busy helped me get through those years, but it also kept me from recognizing how much I was carrying.

My husband served in the Army after September 11 and deployed multiple times throughout our marriage. Like many military spouses, I learned how to adapt. I learned how to keep life moving forward regardless of what was happening around us. You do what needs to be done because there is really no other choice.

What many people forget now is the climate of the country during those years. The nation was at war, and depending on where you lived, there could be judgment attached to being military affiliated. Supporting a service member did not automatically mean supporting every decision made at the national level, but those distinctions were often lost.

Looking back, staying busy was both a coping strategy and a form of avoidance. There was always another responsibility, another move, another deployment, another transition, or another family need that required my attention. Staying busy helped me get through those years, but it also kept me from recognizing how much I was carrying.

My husband served in the Army after September 11 and deployed multiple times throughout our marriage. Like many military spouses, I learned how to adapt. I learned how to keep life moving forward regardless of what was happening around us. You do what needs to be done because there is really no other choice.

What many people forget now is the climate of the country during those years. The nation was at war, and depending on where you lived, there could be judgment attached to being military affiliated. Supporting a service member did not automatically mean supporting every decision made at the national level, but those distinctions were often lost.

At times, it felt easier to stay quiet than explain our life. While people debated war and politics, military families were living it. We were navigating deployments, missed birthdays, missed holidays, uncertainty, and the reality that life could change with a single phone call. There were seasons when I felt disconnected from people who simply did not understand the life we were living.

Then military retirement came. We had thirty days to move from the Washington, D.C. area back to California. We were selling a house in Texas, transitioning out of military life, navigating adoption, and trying to figure out what came next. I moved from one responsibility to another without slowing down long enough to process any of it.

It was not until 2018 that I realized how exhausted I was.

I was tired from war. Tired from moving. Tired from military retirement. Tired from years of uncertainty and constant transition. Tired from carrying responsibilities that many people never saw.

As I began learning more about secondary trauma, many things started to make sense. Secondary trauma is the emotional impact that can occur when someone is exposed to another person's trauma. While I was not the one deployed, military service affected every part of our family. The uncertainty, stress, fear, and constant adjustment became part of daily life.

Over the last ten years, I have spent countless hours studying, researching, and educating myself about secondary trauma and its clinical impact. My personal experience opened the door, but it does not replace the clinical work. Lived experience and research both matter. One helps us understand what it feels like. The other helps us understand how trauma affects individuals, families, and communities.

There is so much more to my story than I can fit into one essay. This is only one chapter. By sharing this small piece of my journey, maybe another service spouse will recognize a piece of their own story.

What I have learned is that healing rarely happens alone.

The Central Valley community continues to carry me today. My lifelong friendships have carried me through some of the hardest seasons of my life, and you know who you are. Those friendships began long before military life and continue today. They have celebrated victories, sat with me in disappointment, listened when I needed to talk, and reminded me where home is.

The Central Valley has always been home. It is where my roots are. It is where I learned the value of community, and it is where I continue to find support today.

That same community can carry all of us, however that may look. Sometimes it is a conversation over coffee. Sometimes it is a text message, a meal, a referral, a prayer, or simply knowing someone understands.

Community does not remove the challenges we face, but it reminds us that we do not have to face them alone. The Central Valley community continues to carry me today, and that same community can carry all of us.