Living with PTSD: Lidor and Yael's Story

Noga, the eldest daughter of Lidor and Yael Leibovitz, was just two years old when she went with her parents to an amusement park. "We were standing at the entrance where there was a long line of people," Lidor recounts. "Noga was on my shoulders, and suddenly she asked me, 'Dad, do you want a hug?' I asked her, 'Why?' And she answered, 'Because there are a lot of people here.' My biggest miracle was that I had sunglasses, making it easier to hide the tears."

This was the moment Lidor and Yael realized that they had a particularly sensitive child, and they also understood something else: the PTSD that had been troubling Lidor in recent years due to his military service was not just his issue; it was affecting the whole family. This realization motivated them to start speaking about it openly, despite being very private people who never sought publicity.

"It's so important for people experiencing similar things to know there's a way to overcome the difficulty," Yael explains. "PTSD presents a challenging struggle, and you never know when the next outbreak will occur. But the more you learn about it, the better you can manage, and crucially, you understand you are not alone."

When Life Hits Pause

The first time Lidor and Yael began to feel the symptoms of PTSD was during the COVID-19 pandemic. When the first lockdown started, their eldest daughter was born, and they found themselves homebound for days with a small baby. Yael noticed something was amiss with her husband, but she couldn't precisely identify it, believing it was all related to coping with the pandemic.

Lidor also began to sense something was wrong. "Work pressure was high," he recalls, "and suddenly, life halted with the lockdown. I felt my reactions were not usual, I was saying inappropriate remarks, having outbreaks, and felt almost like I was having an out-of-body experience."

Yael, a rehabilitative criminologist, wrote her thesis on "Growth from Trauma," allowing her to professionally discern that something had happened to her husband. "She insisted I attend therapy with a psychologist," Lidor remembers, "and although I didn’t see the point, I went for half a year, weekly, mainly for the sake of peace at home."

"During therapy, the psychologist mentioned the military, and I immediately dismissed it, thinking there couldn’t be a connection. But as she continued, I started wondering: 'Maybe there is something in this?'"

"Eventually, with Yael and her friend’s help, I reached the 'Combat Reaction Unit at Tel HaShomer' and got connected with the 'Warriors for Life' organization, which helped us get legal support to gain recognition as having PTSD from the Ministry of Defense."

That was the start of a long journey. "Treating PTSD is not easy," Lidor clarifies, "because it takes you back to the experience you had, which is extremely hard. Therapy was every Thursday, and already by Wednesday afternoon, I’d become 'hedgehog-like,' tense all over. After sessions, I needed to work until Shabbat to not react to anyone. It was a tough period, and post-treatment, we realized the trauma does not disappear; we have to learn to live alongside it."

What do you mean? The therapy didn’t erase the PTSD?

"PTSD is a chronic condition that accompanies you for life," Lidor clarifies. "There's no way to erase it, but you can learn to live alongside it. You learn to control the outbursts, to stop yourself around the kids, and to know when you need rest. Of course, this self-control costs you - you're often tired, lacking energy, and less in the mood.

"Incidents always seem to happen at the most inconvenient times – at 8:30 in the morning on the way to preschool, or during other stress-filled moments requiring immense energy to avoid outbursts and to ensure I don't harm anyone."

Living with Trauma

"The difficulty is not just Lidor's," Yael makes clear. "Living with a partner with PTSD isn't easy. I'm the one by his side during the nights when he wakes from nightmares, and sometimes when he can't sleep at all. I learned, over time, that there are triggers for his outbreaks, which aren't directly related to war but are tied to things like exhaust fumes or the smell of orange blossoms.

"Luckily, with academic knowledge and experience, I identified the symptoms as PTSD-related. Fortunately, Lidor was very proactive and motivated to improve, not just for his surroundings but for himself too.

"But the struggle is never-ending; I'll give an example: recently, we went abroad and, on our return, had to take three separate flights with tight connections and immense stress levels. I wished Lidor had a sign on his chest saying 'disabled.' I was afraid he'd explode or yell. Ultimately, Lidor inspired us all with his efforts, managing to keep a hold on himself while only I knew the real effort it demanded within him."

Lidor stops his wife and notes, "Yael is being humble. The reason I endured that day was largely thanks to her acting like a walking stick for me. At a certain point, overwhelmed by stress, I left her alone with the suitcases. I'm certain that without her support, I would have ended up detained."

Importantly, as they both point out, a major part of their story is the impact on their small daughters, who see their father yelling, sad, and crying often, sensing something is wrong.

How do you explain this to them?

"That's exactly the question we asked ourselves," Lidor clarifies. "We knew we needed a tool to help convey the PTSD concept to the kids. It's not easy to talk about, but Noga is smart enough to understand, and even Tamar, one and a half, will have to at some point.

"We looked for a children's book on the subject but didn't find any. When we realized there was a huge need, especially during times of war when many are affected, and PTSD surfaces, we decided to write one ourselves," Yael adds. "It's called 'Posty and Me,' and it's currently in a crowdfunding stage. It's not just a children's book, but a personal journey for our family. It’s told through the eyes of a sensitive little girl trying to understand her father’s complexity. Through the story, we provide tools for open family dialogue, support, and strong familial ties. Our desire is for this book to reach every household dealing with PTSD or any hardship. Because, in the end, who among us doesn't face struggles, and who doesn’t need tools for support?"

From the book 'Posty and Me'

There Are Solutions

Lidor and Yael aren't just stopping at writing a book; they're involved in other efforts to raise awareness. Both serve as mentors—Yael to partners of those with PTSD, and Lidor to those experiencing it themselves.

"Lidor is also very active in the 'Floating Ship' group run by Challenges non-profit, sailing sometimes for a week with other PTSD survivors," Yael shares. "I feel empowered by community connections, so I joined a community of women partners of PTSD survivors to speak the same language and understand situations others can't comprehend.

"We've learned to live alongside PTSD," she concludes, "and to ensure it doesn't control us; instead, we control it. Our shared journey has strengthened our bond, and I’m more certain than ever that Lidor is my best life partner. Our life is good and happy because we see challenges not as pains but as hurdles, and believe there are always solutions as we stride forward, overcoming each bump."