Trigger Warning:this article discusses multiple forms of trauma and mental health.

Introduction

I know there's a lot of cliche information out there about veterans at concerts or in large crowds and most of it is true. Some of the time. Veterans, specifically those with post-traumatic stress

Experiencing Crowd Anxiety

In most crowd anxiety cases it reminds them of something bad that happened that was out of their control, likely due to too many variables in the equation of impending and/or executed doom. Multiple variables can cause a cascade of questions. Who is a threat? Military-trained profiling begins. Who is in charge? Some security, are they well trained? Cops, will they make it worse or better? What is that sound? So many sounds at concerts to identify and categorize as threat or non threat. Will this sound or smell bring me back to the desert…?

Scanning the Crowd

Instinctively, I start scanning. Not in a hypervigilant way; let’s say in a keen observational way. Scanning comes with a requested definition. Scanning is identifying, evaluating, targeting the threat and releasing information of everything in front, rear, side and diagonal of my view for about 50 feet and all side alleys, entrances, doorways and garbage in the road or walkway. I do it like a reflex, though if pushed for too long it exhausts me. In those moments of exhaustion I’m reminded of convoys that lasted all night with no refuge from the danger and impending death. My scanning starts the moment we get out of the car. It’s Camden, NJ so it's not exactly unwarranted scanning. The six block walk is uneventful, including a homeless guy with an orange tabby kitten sleeping in his lap. After the concert I'll look for him to give him the $2 in my pocket but he'll be gone.

Attending Alice and Chains and Korn

Adjusting for the Band's Sound

I am grateful to miss most of the screaming from the opening band, Underoath. We put our earplugs in but I find that to be too dulling of the sound, so I take the ear plug out of my left ear (the one with the hearing loss) and it is all nice and evened out. I laugh at my husband and say maybe it wasn’t the best idea to expose the “bad” ear to more sound but it creates the perfect level of loud and I can still feel the eternal beat of the shrieking guitar. I love to sway to Alice in Chains; it is one of those bands that breaks your heart and puts you at ease, all in a bar of music. We sway through Alice in Chains and my feet begin to ache but to sit down near the beer farts and humidity is a limited affair.

Bathroom Intermission

Korn is on next. On the way to the bathroom between the sets, we navigate the vomiting audience members. I can't help but let out a little cheer of encouragement. Everyone is drunk or high for the most part, but something about head bangers all in the same communal space is actually kinda chill.

Korn is On

The design of lights and large TV projections in the shapes of rectangles and squares built up all the way to the highest rafter of the stage grasps my interest. The melodic balance between screaming and singing keeps my attention as I watch the glow of the lights, the flicker of seemingly random lines, colors and electrical currents of rage and sadness. What impresses me most is the ability of the lights to stay perfectly in sync with the beats in the songs. During the headbangy parts, the seizure-inducing strobe lights compliment the rhythmic nodding of heads throughout the crowd.

Conclusion

Walking back to the car I feel more at ease, less scanny, because Korn gave the audience that tribal feeling. We were all in it together, fighting the same demons and trying to navigate a system designed to tear us apart. Similar to that moment in combat when you realize you would give your life for that person standing next to you, uniting us in life and death. Just as Korn and Alice in Chains unites us with rhythm and poetry. Do you have any advice or recommendations for a veteran struggling with PTSD? Please feel free to share them in the comments section.