Invisible Wounds: What PTSD Feels Like Hour by Hour — My Story as a Wife, and How Caregivers Can Help

thewayofthewiseowl
Jul 14
5 min read

By Dagmarie Daniels | Life Coach, Wife of a Disabled Veteran, Founder of Beyond Invisible Battles: Battle-Tested, Forgotten Veteran

I didn’t fully understand what PTSD was until I lived with it—until I married it.

Not in the literal sense, but when you’re married to a disabled veteran with chronic PTSD, it becomes a third party in the relationship. It shapes routines, moods, energy, and intimacy.

We don’t talk enough about what living with PTSD feels like—for the veteran, and for the spouse standing by, watching, holding space, and breaking silently while trying to stay strong.

So today, I want to take you into a day in our life, hour by hour.

Because PTSD isn’t just a moment or a flashback, it’s an endless cycle.

As a life coach and a wife, I want caregivers, partners, and loved ones to understand this better so they know they are not alone and that they matter too.

⏰ Morning: Waking Up Already Exhausted

Morning in our house isn’t bright and peaceful. It’s heavy.

My husband takes medication to manage his PTSD, anxiety, and panic attacks. Those medications save his life, but they also rob him of energy. By morning, his body is sluggish, his mind is groggy, and his spirit is weighed down.

Even if he sleeps, he rarely feels rested. The nights are full of fragmented sleep, nightmares, or tossing and turning. He wakes up almost all the time sweaty, sometimes hot, with his heart racing so fast that I feel it’s about to burst out of his chest. What’s even more difficult is getting up, feeling confused about whether he’s dreaming or awake.

For caregivers:

Begin the day gently: Do not rush or overwhelm them with questions. Simple touches, a quiet presence, and gentle reminders that it is morning can help them feel grounded.

Make a daily ritual: whether it’s a favorite breakfast, a gentle song, or an early walk. Small rituals help children refocus on the present.

⏰ Midday: The World is Too Loud

By midday, his medication leaves him drowsy—he’s not fully alert. Even though he can drive, most days it’s safer if I do. His reaction time is slower, and his focus is not sharp enough to feel confident on the road.

And then there’s the reality of being out in public.

Crowds are unbearable for him.

A straightforward visit to the supermarket feels like a war zone. The noise, the closeness of people, sudden movements—it’s all too much. His body stays in fight-or-flight mode. I see it in the way his jaw clenches, his eyes scan every corner, and his breathing gets shallow.

Because of that, I run the errands. I take care of shopping, appointments, and anything that puts us in crowded or unpredictable places.

As a wife, some days that responsibility is heavy. Some days, I wish he could take on more of those tasks, but I know that for him, it’s not avoidance, it’s survival.

💡A Midday Tip For Caregivers: This is what has worked for me as a Wife:

Choose delivery services or curbside pickup to reduce contact with crowded places.
Plan errands for off-peak hours when it’s calmer and less overwhelming.
Avoid criticizing them for staying in—it’s not idleness, it’s safeguarding their mental well-being.
Please encourage them to participate in alternative ways at home that feel secure and achievable.

⏰ Afternoon: The Triggers Hit

Afternoons are unpredictable. This is when fatigue from holding it all together starts showing.

Triggers don’t need permission to appear. It could be a sound on TV, the smell of something familiar, or even just a phrase. Suddenly, the switch flips: he withdraws, gets quiet, or, on bad days, snaps in anger—not because of me, but because his mind is back there, in a place I can’t reach.

In the past, I took it personally. I thought I did something wrong. But I’ve learned that these are trauma responses, not character flaws.

💡 An Afternoon Tip for Caregivers:

Don’t push them to explain. Let them know you’re there when they’re ready.
Learn the signs of their triggers: breathing changes, pacing, zoning out, irritability—these are cues to give space or offer comfort.
Have grounding tools available: weighted blankets, aromatherapy, calming music, or sensory items can help them self-regulate.
Protect your energy: Step away if needed. You can’t pour from an empty cup.

⏰ Evening: The Emotional Distance

Evenings are typically when the majority of people reconnect after a long day. But for us, many nights feel like a quiet coexistence. He’s exhausted—not just physically, but mentally and emotionally.

There are nights when he’s distant, barely speaking, or scrolling aimlessly on his phone to distract himself from his thoughts.

As his wife, I miss him—even when he’s right next to me. I miss the connection, the ease, the laughter we had before PTSD became our companion.

But I have learned that my presence is more important than anything; just being there without demands or expectations, is sometimes the only connection he can handle at the time.

💡 Evening Tips for Caregivers:

Stop Expecting Connection: Stop needing to connect deeply every night; sometimes just being in the same room is enough.
Establish calming routines: Cooking together, binge-watching a favorite show, or just listening to soft music.
Show gratitude: A straightforward “I appreciate your presence” can reinforce their worth, even during moments of silence.

⏰ Night: The War Resumes

Nighttime is the most brutal. It’s when the house is quiet, but his mind isn’t. Nightmares come in waves. Sometimes he wakes up yelling, gasping, and on other nights, completely disoriented.

I’ve held him, rubbed his back, whispered that he’s safe—but some nights, nothing brings him back quickly.

This is the hour where PTSD steals from both of us: his peace and my rest.

💡 Tips when Nighttime Arrives for Caregivers:

Have a system: agree on ways to wake them gently, or how to support them if they wake up distressed.
Encourage nighttime routines that promote calm: herbal teas, meditation, soft lighting, or white noise.
Take care of your sleep hygiene. As a caregiver, rest is your right, not a luxury.

❤️ What I’ve Learned as a Wife, a Caregiver, and a Life Coach

This life is not easy. I won’t pretend it is.

But I’ve learned that I’m not supposed to fix him.

I’m supposed to love him in the capacity he can receive. I’m supposed to love myself

enough to seek support when I need it, too.

This is why I created Beyond Invisible Battles: Battle-Tested, Forgotten-Veteran

Because our veterans aren’t the only ones fighting—spouses, caregivers, and families are on the frontlines too.

We all need:

More education about PTSD.
More community and caregiver support.
More compassion—for them and ourselves.

🫂 To Every Caregiver, Spouse, and Partner

You’re doing more than you realize.

You’re the bridge between the past that haunts them and the present they’re trying to stay in.

Don’t forget yourself in this battle.

You deserve rest.

You deserve support.

You deserve to be seen.

📍 Join me and the movement: www.wayofthewiseowl.com

🎧 Listen to my story on the podcast: Road of Recovery of a Female Player

📩 Reach out to me directly: dagmariedaniels@gmail.com