For those with post-traumatic stress disorder — nightmares, angry outbursts, suicidal thoughts and flashbacks are symptoms of time spent in war zones. Those symptoms give victims no peace. 

But now, the symptoms are being experienced by school age children in urban Louisiana. 

According to a study by the Institute of Women & Ethnic Studies, 60% of children in New Orleans experience PTSD. That rate is four times the national average.  

So, how did the Big Easy — a city known for fun, jazz and Mardi Gras — create an environment similar to a war zone? 

Niya Cordier and her husband, Jason Jackson, say for their family, it all began with Hurricane Katrina. 

One of the largest and most destructive storms in U.S. history, killed over 1,800 and left behind $125 billion in damage. 

"Katrina was a catastrophic event," Cordier said. "It traumatized my entire family."

She says her 10-year-old son, Will, saw things no child should experience.  

SEE MORE: Habitat For Humanity: Rebuilding New Orleans After Katrina

"My own son got to see dead bodies, people being shot, people being shoved to the ground, harmed, hurt, fighting over buses, fighting over food, fighting over the little bit that was being looted, waiting for days for someone to come and he was 10," Cordier continued. "What did they expect that would do to all of these kids?"

After Katrina came another trauma—gun violence.  

Samuel Chesterfiled is a longtime licensed professional counselor who's helped school-aged children through PTSD.

"Seeing my neighbor or the stranger murdered in my yard, I see the blood. That's traumatic," he said. 

Chesterfield says it's common for children living in urban areas like New Orleans to experience PTSD. "Natural disasters, traumatic events, abuse — and that's both physical and emotional trauma. That could be the death of a loved one, a chronic illness, that could be cancer, a traumatic event, a car wreck, violence, all of those things play a major, major role and especially when you live in an inner city," he said.

SEE MORE: How Has Our Approach To Treating PTSD Evolved?

With the support of family, Will graduated from high school and made it to college. But a decision to return home for the summer, sent his life into a tailspin. 

"He was playing ball one night …. A guy pulls out a gun and starts shooting," Cordier said. "Those few little words changed my life...'Ma, I got shot' ... The events of what happened when my son was shot was like a domino effect for us."

After the shooting, Cordier says her son turned into a completely different person. He changed his name, carried guns, and dropped out of college. 

The shooting left this family in shock. And triggered PTSD in his younger 13-year-old sister, Jayce. Newsy is not showing her face to protect her privacy. 

"I'm scared," she said. "It's like a thought [that] if I make eye contact with the wrong person and I hold it for a little too long, something bad might happen."

Jayce now refuses to go through that neighborhood of New Orleans where her big brother nearly lost his life.  

"It makes me nervous and it makes me ancy if I'm being honest," she said. "It's like, an unsettling feeling."

Summer months in New Orleans not only bring heat, but also violence.  

In 2022, New Orleans topped the list of cities with the highest increase in homicide rates, according to Wallet Hub. Mental health experts say it's due to a lack of activities, internships and jobs for teens. 

The Center for Resilience was born out of a desperate need to help children in the city. For the last eight years, executive director Elizabeth Marcell Williams has been a provider. 

"Over a period of time in the years after Hurricane Katrina, we saw a gradual shutdown of state-run programming for children and adolescents with mental health needs," she said. "Around 2012 or so, schools in the city began articulating a need and saying, 'We have kids in our building right now who are crying out for more intensive support than we are equipped to be able to provide and it's manifesting in aggressive behaviors and property destruction and, you know, children are not being able to learn.'"

They are now the city's only therapeutic day program, shining a light to help kids find their way out of darkness. The nonprofit provides counseling and enough academics to help students graduate.  

"On average, when we look at our success rate, 83% of the kids who have come through our program and gone back to their home school have been successful in that home school," Williams said.

Cordier says such a program might have helped her family. Instead, she and her husband moved to the suburbs of New Orleans for protection of their mental health, and peace. 

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Johnny Pinchback spent 27 years behind bars for a crime he didn't commit.

"It was hell, right here on Earth," he said. "Pure hell."

Pinchback was convicted of aggravated sexual assault and sentenced to 99 years in prison.

"Man, it is very hurtful, very painful," he continued. "A whole bunch of guys that were sent there for rape crimes and child molestation, that couldn't defend themselves — they were raped themselves, beat up and raped themselves, and so many of them killed themselves."

Thanks to DNA evidence and the Texas Innocence Project, Pinchback has been a free man for 11 years but says his readjustment into society has been its own challenge.

"After I got out, you know, I was lost, man," Pinchback said. "When I got out, it was a shock, man. It was a cultural shock."

Despite how tough his experience has been on his psyche, Pinchback says formal therapy didn't work for him.

"They sent a few of us to it," he said. "We were like, 'Man, we do counseling and do therapy for each other.' And that's what we did."

Chantal Fahmy is a University of Texas San Antonio professor and has spent her career studying the formerly incarcerated.

She says reentry into society is its own punishment and takes a toll mentally.

"Their education really hasn't changed all that much. So, it's not like they're attaining these jobs that they weren't able to get prior," she said. "They're ineligible for a lot of forms of public assistance, like welfare. They're alienated from mainstream life, period."

A study from the University of Chicago compares the mental toll of being wrongfully imprisoned to the anguish suffered by military veterans and torture survivors.

Researchers say common effects among the exonerated include severe PTSD, persistent personality changes, depression and complex feelings of loss.

Fahmy says the resources specifically for exonerees are very limited, but for anyone leaving prison, family support can have a positive impact.

"When you have a solid support system in both of those ways, whether it's from family or whether it's from friends, your mental health is better," she said.

Anna Vasquez spent 13 years behind bars for a crime that never happened.

She and three other women were charged with gang raping two children, and their story was featured in the documentary "Southwest of Salem."

Ultimately, their conviction was thrown out due to inaccurate scientific testimony and an admission by the accuser that her father forced her to make false allegations.

Vasquez now serves as the director of outreach for the Innocence Project of Texas and says she hopes she can be that resource for people in her position.

"I think it brings them some comfort," she said. "You know, when I speak to them, it's not coming from an attorney, or a paralegal, you know, it is somebody that has actually been there, going through what they're going through. … It's just hard to relate to somebody that has never been in prison."

As technology has advanced, exonerations have become more common.

According to the National Registry of Exonerations, more than 3,000 people have been wrongly convicted and exonerated since 1989, amounting to 25,000 years lost behind bars.

"I'm still a work in progress, you know?" Vasquez said. "Actually, yesterday, it was my brother's, I guess, death anniversary. I don't know how I should say that, but it makes me mad when I think about [the fact] I only had two years with him. It's anger, frustration. Unbelievable that something like this could happen."

Those 3,000 people who have now been exonerated are also reintegrating into society while dealing with unimaginable trauma and potential mental health challenges.

"Talking about your feelings or your emotions in prison was not to be done, you know?" Vasquez said. "You hid under a cover and you cried. So, the way that I coped with it was, I was hopeful. But I will not tell you that I didn't have my bad days. And you know, I was depressed, but I always seem to pick myself up."

Pinchback says the time he spends with other people who have been wrongfully convicted is his own kind of therapy.

"I've got another friend about 10 minutes from here," he said. "He did 31 years wrongfully convicted, and sometimes we'll joke around and stuff like that about prison we'll be joking and stuff like, 'Hey man, I'm going to the commissary today. Would you bring me three soups?' … Then we'll say, 'Hey man, it is a blessing for that to be behind us.'"

Pinchback and Vasquez regularly speak to law students and tell their stories to make that story less common.

"That's my job," Pinchback said. "It's my job until I die, man, until I can't do it no more. It's my job."

Newsy’s mental health initiative “America’s Breakdown: Confronting Our Mental Health Crisis” brings you deeply personal and thoughtfully told stories on the state of mental health care in the U.S. Click here to learn more.

Newsy is the nation’s only free 24/7 national news network. You can find Newsy using your TV’s digital antenna or stream for free. See all the ways you can watch Newsy here.

SUMMIT COUNTY, Colo. — For many veterans, physical obstacles are something they take head-on with pride, but it's the silent obstacles that can be the hardest to overcome.

Austin Breuninger is the reason a group of veterans gathered together on a Friday morning at a Colorado trailhead. He started High Country Veterans Adventures after experiencing the tragedy of losing friends to suicide.

"We like to surround ourselves with other veterans so we can have that kind of instant rapport. We can share things with ourselves that we may not feel comfortable sharing with other people," he said.

Studies have shown that the more time people diagnosed with post-traumatic stress disorder spend in the outdoors, the more they see a reduction in their PTSD symptoms.

A recent study by Penn State shows that now 50% of people in America participate in outdoor activities a 20% increase from pre-pandemic times. While this means more people are getting more mental health benefits, crowded parks and expensive equipment can mean more barriers for people like veterans or others with PTSD exist.

"We've essentially removed the obstacles that prevent a veteran from coming out and enjoying these events," said Breuninger.

His group moves some of those barriers by lending equipment and providing avalanche training, so veterans can access the pure wilderness of America's backcountry safely.

Veteran Zach Whitmore found the group serendipitously a few years ago and says the ability to get outside with few barriers has been life-changing.

"I can't picture my life in any other way other than being in the mountains and being out in the wild with my friends," said Whitmore.

Connection through nature may be harder to find these days, but these veterans say through proper knowledge and finding a group to show you the way, the outdoors can remain to be one of the greatest healers available.

"At the end of the day, we just want everybody to get up the mountain, finish the objective and get down safely and it brings us together," he said.

As the importance of mental health becomes more widely accepted in the United States, men are still battling the stigma that it should not be discussed.

But that changed recently when famous MMA fighter Paddy “the Baddie” Pimblett delivered a moving public message after a fight, saying he has been struggling himself.

In his post-fight speech, Pimblett spoke about a close friend of his who had taken his life only days before the fight. He urged men to talk about their issues.

“I’d rather my mate cry on my shoulder than go to his funeral," he said.

The speech was an important message to men worldwide.

“I saw that clip of Paddy and I was just stopped. I had that sense of 'finally,'” said Eric French, a psychiatrist at the Mind Spa in Denver. “[Men] have these conceptions about [themselves] that we’re supposed to be strong, stoic, press forward no matter what is going on but we are human beings and that means there are aspects of ourselves that are no less real if we acknowledge them or not; that being our emotional state. And if acknowledging your emotional state makes you vulnerable, that’s not a bad thing.”

“I was always taught that a man is supposed to be strong, courageous. You bottle up all your feelings,” said Sam Peterson, a retired war veteran.

Peterson knows about that stigma first-hand. He was a bomb technician in Afghanistan for more than four years. The PTSD he developed from his time in the Army nearly led him to take his own life in 2014.

“It was very much like panic attacks, and, you know, I very nearly ended my own life because of it,” he said. “I had my .45 in my hand, you know, ready to pull the trigger and I got a text message from one of my very good friends and he’s like hey man come over. I sat down on the couch and I just bawled my eyes out for like three hours. Just letting it all out and it felt like someone had just taken my soul out of my body and just washed it in bleach and stuck it back in.”

After the speech by Pimblett, who is from the U.K., mental health clinicians in the region reported seeing more men coming to their practice for help.

“You have to have someone there who can hold up a mirror to your biases and help you break them down or you’re just going to be stuck in the same rut,” said Peterson.

“If you’re struggling and you get the sense that this feeling you’re having is not going away, it’s not going to go away,” added French. “It’s going to stay there until you face it.”

MAYFIELD, Ky. —

Kentucky towns devastated during a rare December tornado outbreak will take months or longer to rebuild. Recovering from the emotional trauma could take even longer.

Experts say it is important for tornado victims to be vulnerable and open to talking about the trauma they experienced.

"There's no rulebook of how to manage a natural disaster," said Tara Immele, a clinical social worker with Greater Cincinnati Behavioral Health Services. "The first and foremost, you need a roof over your head and everyone acknowledges that. But the challenge is going back to address the emotional components there."

Immele said PTSD is common in people who experience a traumatizing natural disaster like a tornado.

"A lot of times it's a delayed response: a week, a month, six months later. You see a lot of folks enrolled in just basic counseling still addressing and responding to some of their negative experiences," she said. "Some people may withdrawal or act out, especially kiddos. But the thing is to make it a part of conversation, not force it but at the same time, don't make the tornado taboo."

The American Red Cross utilizes licensed therapists to meet survivors' emotional needs in the immediate aftermath of a disaster.

A spokeswoman said the teams "identify individuals who need additional support, provide short-term disaster mental health interventions and refer individuals to local resources as necessary, in order to supplement local community resources and strengthen community resilience."

Tim Andreasen and his family are a handful of the tornado survivors in Mayfield who recognize they will need some kind of professional help to rebuild their minds and overcome the trauma of the storm.

"I'm taking it day by day right now. It's not fully hit me yet. It will hit me when I'm alone by myself," Andreasen said last week.

His 7-year-old son and 9-year-old daughter were both home when the tornado ripped their home apart.

"They keep hearing glass break every time they go to sleep," he said. "I keep telling him he needs to talk and get it out before it eats him up. I haven't even talked to nobody yet."

The 2008 recession proved devastating not only to the economy but American lives after suicide numbers spiked in its wake. And for veterans at a high risk of unemployment and mental illness, experts say greater efforts are needed to support the population.

A nonprofit in San Diego is using a unique form of therapy to help veterans and their caregivers during this time.

"All I have to do is relax. Being able to get out of my head and literally not have to do anything for an hour, it's amazing," said Candra Murphy, an Air Force veteran.

In a pool heated to match the human temperature, veterans are transported to a state of calm.

"It's often equated to if you were to go all the way back to being the womb, and that safety and serenity of being in the watery environment," said Elizabeth Berg, executive director of Wave Academy.

But like many veterans sent to the aquatic therapy program, Murphy had her reservations.

"The first session, I was tense pretty much all the way through," remembered Murphy.

Murphy served for six years and deployed once to Balad, Iraq. She says the base was a constant target for mortar attacks, and the most difficult part of the deployment was not knowing what was going to happen next.

When she reintegrated back into civilian life, everyday tasks like driving, were a challenge.

"It just depends on the day. More often than not, my symptoms tend to show up as anxiety, hyper-vigilance, general distrust of crowds. I tend to self-isolate a lot," said Murphy.

Through counseling, Murphy learned she had Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD). She began sessions at Wave Academy before COVID-19, but like many services, it was put on hold.

Murphy says she's been managing the pandemic well, but it was challenging not having access to the therapies which help with her PTSD.

"For the first time ever, we have a wait list of people who would like to have our therapy program," said Berg.

Wave Academy serves veterans, active duty service members, and caregivers. Through donors and granters, they're able to provide eight sessions at no cost for people with low to moderate-income.

"It's great for physical therapy as well, the warm water and the light massaging and maybe twist or stretches is absolutely helpful for the physical body. But I think the piece that makes it so effective when we're working with veterans who have post-traumatic stress, you know we're working with that trauma of the mind, is that this particular therapy transcends from body to mind," said Berg.

Clinical psychologist Mark Jesinoski works with combat veterans, many who were already dealing with heightened physical and emotional pain before the pandemic.

"I'm hearing from a lot of veterans that they're feeling more isolated, they're feeling less supported. Exactly what they need they're not getting right now," said Dr. Jesinoski.

He says he's alarmed by what he sees in his practice, for both civilians and veterans.

"When I look back at my veteran community that I get to work with every day and feel their pulse, what I notice is every single thing they experience as normal people is completely and totally magnified by what's happening in our society today," said Dr. Jesinoski.

A report from the Meadows Mental Health Policy Institute indicated that for every 5 percent increase in the national unemployment rate, as many as 550 veterans a year could be lost to suicide, and 20,000 more could suffer from substance abuse disorders.

But instead of focusing on predictions, Dr. Jesinoski says society should seek proactive solutions.

"I don't think it's a matter of putting more money into it, I think it's about being much smarter and much wiser in how we allocate that money in being a much more interconnected system of services," said Dr. Jesinoski.

Between the government and community nonprofits like Wave Academy.

"What I would say to a veteran if they are struggling is don't do that pride thing, don't do that isolation thing, don't do the 'I ain't got time to bleed thing'. Be willing to take a breath and to overcome that resistance to asking for help," said Jesinoski.

After being inspired by his journey of working and healing with veterans, Dr. Jesinosky started a podcast to help support the population.

If you or someone you know needs help, you can contact the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline anytime at 1-800–273-8255.

SEATTLE, Wash. — Working in emergency services means putting yourself in dangerous situations.

Often, it is life or death, like when a devastating mudslide hit a community north of Seattle in 2014.

“I was deployed to the Oso mudslide about seven years ago and it was a mudslide that killed 40 people,” said Lt. Michael Dulas, with the Seattle Fire Department.

“My role was to help search the mudslide for people. So, we were literally digging, looking for people,” he said.

The weeks-long search effort left an impression on Dulas and hundreds of other first responders.

“We were up there for four 24 hour shifts in a row,” said Steve Yeutter, who works with Dulas at the fire department.

“The most normal part of that day was petting the search dogs at the end of the day,” said Dulas.

The Oso slide and its aftermath inspired Dulas to make a small but significant change within Seattle Fire. The department got dogs.

“Zoe’s a 2-year-old Bernedoodle, so half Bernese mountain dog and half poodle,” said Dulas.

Zoe is Mike’s dog and one of three therapy dogs who have joined the fire department as part of a pilot program. The other two, Hera and Bob, are also owned by Seattle firefighters.

“She’s just being a dog, bringing a smile to people’s faces, being goofy, doing dog things. And dogs are proven to lower your heart rate, lower your blood pressure,” said Dulas

Agencies across the U.S. are looking for a solution to the mental health crisis. Police and firefighters are now more likely to die by suicide than in the line of duty. About 30% of emergency responders will develop behavioral health conditions like depression and post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD).

“For a number of years, those issues were really under-recognized, and it was just assumed, 'Oh, they’re tough. They see it every day,'” said Chip Schreiber, a clinical psychologist at UCLA who specializes in creating programs to reduce PTSD in first responders.

“Suicide and serious depression are the final common pathway of stress and symptoms that potentiate and then lead to greater conflict in the environment and ability to function in your family,” said Schreiber.

“In ’95, Seattle lost four firefighters in the Mary Pang warehouse fire. One of them was my very best friend. Randy Terlicker was his name,” said Yeutter. “Had a hard time for about 24 hours just even functioning.”

Yeutter has spent three decades with Seattle Fire.

Today, one of his jobs is working as a peer support coordinator, helping firefighters deal with a wide variety of scenarios.

“Possibly line of duty deaths, injuries to firefighters. Some of the other things that might trigger a response might be multi-casualty incidents, or possibly suicides or difficult runs with children,” said Yeutter.

Yeutter and Dulas both say they've had experiences where they wished there was more offered by the department.

“I lost a little brother who was in the Army to suicide. I’ve watched my older brother as a firefighter struggle with PTSD and that’s a lot of my motivation is just I want to take a different path and I want to be well,” said Dulas.

Both say there are more resources available to firefighters today.

“When you feel those reactions when you sick, when you feel stressed, when you can’t sleep for a couple weeks, get out there and ask for help,” said Yeutter.

“I want to see everyone retire healthy, happy, with their families intact and just go have a great life after,” said Dulas.

WASHINGTON, D.C. — Nearly one year after the first official COVID-19 diagnosis in the U.S., medical professionals remain on the front lines of a seemingly never-ending pandemic.

“It's been a trying time for all of us, for all my colleagues and all, everyone involved in the care of the patient,” said Helen Cordova, an ICU nurse at Kaiser Permanente in Los Angeles.

It’s a trying time, with real consequences on the mental health of those we rely on for our health.

According to a recent study conducted by Mental Health America:

• 93 percent of health care workers reported experiencing stress
• 86 percent reported anxiety
• 76 percent were exhausted and burned out
• 75 percent said they were overwhelmed

“If you work in the environment like that, you don't know what's going to come,” said Dr. Eugene Lipov is with the Stella Center, which specializes in treating post-traumatic stress disorder, or PTSD. “It's stressful because you're afraid of not doing your job right. You don't want people dying. You also are afraid you're going to get this communicable disease.”

He said some people working in health care are exhibiting symptoms of PTSD because of the constant psychological toll COVID-19 is taking on them.

“It's very similar to being in a war zone and that actually leads to fight-and-flight system being kicked on,” Dr. Lipov said. “And if it stays on, then you get symptoms of PTSD, such as not being able to sleep, such as all the activity, paranoia - all of that.”

How can workers combat it? Dr. Lipov suggested several steps.

“Number one: you need to get some sleep, meaning turn off the devices,” he said. ”If you can get outside, walk, get some natural light, walk for at least 30 minutes.”

Finally, he said health care workers need to remember to take care of themselves, with the same passion they often show for their patients.

SHELBYVILLE, K.y. — For Emily Hernandez, transitioning from sergeant in the Army to civilian took a toll she did not expect.

"I was just ready for the next chapter, and then when I started working on the civilian side, I just went into work, work, work. 'Cause that's what I was used to. And I started to feel so alone," she said.

After seven years of active duty in the Army and a tour in Afghanistan, Emily went back to her hometown of Shelbyville, Kentucky with her son and husband. When she got back to friends and family, something was missing – she could no longer relate to the people around her.

"I noticed it when I was working night shift and when I would come home, it was about a 20-minute drive. There's not a lot of cars on the road and you're just able to like, sit there with your thoughts. That's when I started to think, I was like, 'man, life is a lot different,'" she said.

In the U.S. – there are two million female veterans and although women make up only 9% of the military, it’s the fastest growing military and veteran population.

In a study published by Boston Medical Center this year, it was found that although female veterans were younger with less combat experience, they were more likely to have lifetime PTSD, depression, suicidal thoughts, and more likely to use lifetime mental health services, compared to male veterans.

Sherry Whitehouse says the root of the mental obstacles for many female veterans is finding the understanding and a sense of identity they had in service in their new role as a civilian. It’s something she struggled with until she found it in helping others like her – at Veterans Club.

"Our ladies definitely have been under served in the past and I'm grateful to the veterans club for allowing that space to be open, safe and supported," said Whitehouse.

The Kentucky-based organization helps more than 6,000 veterans by providing that missing link of understanding – providing healing through connection. Founder Jeremy Harrell said they started a women-only group because the need was great.

"It's a rare thing from what I understand and it shouldn't be, and we hope that this helps others go, 'We should probably do that too,' because there's some women out there who gave their all for the defense of this country. That are hurting because they don't feel like anybody cares," said Harrell.

Whitehouse is the leader of that program, helping women to open up and own every aspect of their self.

"That's one of the things that I've worked really hard to change just across the board with our ladies that it's okay to stand up, It's okay to say I served. It's okay to say that I need help," she said.

Though Hernandez has gone back into the service, she says the connections she's made at Veteran's Club with other women have helped her greatly.

"I didn't want to admit somethings in my own self-reflection. So when I would hear people in the veterans club explain their stories and it sounded a lot like mine. that's when I started feeling like, 'Oh, like I needed this.' And I think that equally they need me as well," she said.

She hopes other women take the step in finding a community that understands.

"Reach out and understand that you're not alone and once the military's over or even if it's not, you know, there's a big group of people that are here and we want to welcome you with open arms," said Hernandez.

Although Veterans Club is based in Kentucky, they are hoping to connect people across the country.

If you or someone you know believes they can benefit from their services, visit their website by clicking on this link.

SAN DIEGO, Calif. — People who have post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD) are finding relief with a single shot in the neck.

The treatment, called stellate ganglion block (SGB), has been used to treat pain for nearly a century. And in recent years, it has been shown to reduce symptoms associated with PTSD significantly.

Local anesthesia is injected near a bundle of nerves in the neck, called the stellate ganglion. These nerves are a key part of the sympathetic nervous system or our fight or flight response.

Immense trauma can send our fight or flight response into constant overdrive, disrupting sleep, causing overwhelming panic, anger attacks, chronic anxiety, nightmares, or flashbacks.

The medicine has a short-term effect, soothing and resetting overactive nerves.

“The procedure itself helps to take away those symptoms and make a person able to function normally," said Dr. John How. "You're not always on edge. Not everything is a threat."

Dr. How performs the treatment in Encinitas, California, and is part of a nationwide network of doctors with the Stella Center. Stella's Chief Medical Officer, Dr. Eugene Lipov, is among the pioneers of SGB for PTSD.

"I think the most profound effects that happen – and it can happen 20 minutes after the procedure – people say they can take a deep breath, they feel like a weight on their chest has been lifted," said Dr. How.

An emergency physician, Dr. How not only performs the treatment but was a patient himself.

"It's something that really affects my community for front-line healthcare workers and first responders, and I found something that can help my community.”

Already used in the military, Stella Center is among several providers working to make the treatment accessible to more Americans.

While Dr. How says it's not a cure-all, he says 80% of patients find relief after one injection.

"Has made it so that many people have been able to take stop taking their medicines," said Dr. How. “The more people that know about this the better because it’s helping a lot of people.”

Air Force veteran Chris Jachimiec says the treatment was a game-changer in his post-traumatic stress recovery.

“In real-time, I actually felt like every muscle in my body just relaxed simultaneously," said Jachimiec. "I know my mindset has changed."

Jachimiec served in the Air Force for 20 years, causing wear and tear on his body and mind.

His brother, who was in the Marine Corps, died by suicide in 2017.

“The unit I was with was responding to hurricanes in Texas and Florida, so it was like, go, go, go. It wasn’t really a time to step back and address some of the mental anguish that I was going through, the trauma," said Jachimiec.

Within six months of his brother's death, Jachimiec would also lose two comrades to suicide. While he self-medicated with alcohol, he sought help in the military.

“There’s not a one-size-fits-all solution," he says. "You have to find what works for you."

Jachimiec is in alcohol recovery and no longer takes medication for stress. He created an organization to support those who’ve lost loved ones to suicide.

“This isn’t just for folks who served the military. Our society, in general, has gone through a lot of trauma," said Jachimiec.

While insurance covers the SGB procedure for the pain, it doesn’t cover treatment for PTSD. But that could change; lawmakers have joined doctors and patients in calling for more access.

Out-of-pocket, the treatment costs between $1,200 and $3,000. Providers like the Stella Center offer financing programs, as well as discounts and travel stipends to those who qualify.

“It does get better. It can. We all have good days, we all have bad days, we all have in different days, we all have great days," said Jachimiec. "If this unlocks something for somebody else and allows somebody to heal, then these words are absolutely worth it.”

John Mory has made a career out of serving his country and helping his community.

“I saw everything from pediatric patients with significant burns, obviously gunshot wounds, injuries from IEDs,” he said about his time serving in the military.

Mory was a medic for the United States Army Special Forces. He retired as a Master Sgt. and later joined a fire department as a paramedic.

Working on the front lines for decades, however, eventually took an emotional toll.

“It put me in a place where I didn’t want to hurt myself,” he said. “But I understood why 22 veterans take their lives every day.”

That’s when Mory decided to get professional help. But it wasn’t until he paired therapy with yoga that he was able to truly start healing.

“Yoga and mindfulness gave me my life back. It improved my mood. It allowed me to have more of a thoughtful response to things in my environment,” he said.

Now, an organization is looking to help other veterans discover the healing powers of this ancient practice.

“We don’t recommend as an alternative therapy for post-traumatic stress, but it’s an amazing compliment to therapy; it’s part of an integrative approach,” said Daniel Libby, Ph.D., founder of the Veterans Yoga Project, a nonprofit dedicated to helping veterans recover emotionally through this unique form of exercise and meditation.

Libby says yoga impacts mind and body.

“It really provides us the tools that we need to be able to deal with life and all of its stressors,” he said.

Since it started, the Veterans Yoga Project has expanded to cities across the country and is available online.

They also started training veterans like Mory to teach classes.

“It kind of triggered my leave no man behind mentality that I learned in the military,” he said. “This is something I need to teach fellow veterans.”

Mory says he’ll continue to serve his country and his community in a new way.

“It might not be the answer to suicide prevention” he said about practicing yoga, “but I feel it’s definitely part of the solution.”