But he was the provider. She learned to move on after incidents of emotional and even physical abuse. They relied on their faith in God to help keep the tenuous ties of their relationship from breaking.

In 1983, Aline almost left her family. Over the span of 18 months, Paul had moved the family in and out of four states as his PTSD interfered in one job after another. One day one of her children was in a high chair, another in the yard playing and another at school.

"I almost walked out of the house," she said. "I was very depressed."

She wanted out, and she would have left if her husband had taken the motorcycle to work instead of the car. Paul's choice of transportation that day gave Aline time to think through her feelings.

She knew already that her children didn't have much of a father outside of someone to bring home a paycheck and keep a roof over their heads. Aline figured back then that if she left, her children wouldn't have anyone to raise them.

So she stayed in the marriage, despite what Paul had become. During those years, if she wanted to do anything or go anywhere, she always had to go alone or just with the children, sans their father.

"PTSD robs you of everything you have — happiness, a social life, going to the movies, restaurants," Aline said.

Treatment and hope

Even now, Paul still can't attend a Fourth of July celebration. He's unable to control thoughts of fear and anger when the fireworks start going off. With loud noises, a fight-or-flight response kicks in, and Paul still hits the ground and looks for cover, an instinct that he said kept him alive in Vietnam.

Paul never turned to drugs or alcohol, and a brief flirtation with thoughts of suicide gave way to a conclusion he reached on his own that went something like, "I want to live," he said.

On his own, however, he was unable to effectively manage his PTSD. To help him, Hollenbeck is introducing cognitive therapy into his treatment.

On a return trip last year to the Vietnam Memorial, in a simple random act of kindness on a plane, Paul was thanked by a stranger for his service in Vietnam. Hollenbeck considers that rarity to be the kind of healing experience Paul needs more of in his life.

Hollenbeck can see a difference in Paul and in his relationship with Aline. He's more calm, happy, relaxed and more in charge of his emotions, she said.

And Paul knows now that it's OK to ask a restaurant hostess for a table that allows him to see all of the exits. "If that's what he has to do for the rest of his life, big deal," Hollenbeck said. The key is that he's confronting his fears and anxieties and not trying to bury them, she added.

That's what Paul and Aline want for all veterans who may have PTSD. The couple wants those veterans to move past the stigma of PTSD.

"Get help — don't be afraid," Aline said. "Don't suffer — heal emotionally and mentally."

Paul said that men in particular need to ditch the "macho" attitude that gets in the way of seeking therapy for PTSD.

"I want people to understand this is a real thing, this is a real illness that's affecting vets," he said. "You have to admit it, as a vet, and get out of that macho attitude."

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E-mail: sspeckman@desnews.com