I suffered from PTSD, lived overseas, but didn’t serve in the military
When you think of PTSD, what comes to mind? Veterans returning from Afghanistan, Iraq, Vietnam, or any sort of armed conflict?
My story of how I was diagnosed with this infamous 4 lettered acronym ‘disorder’ is quite the story and meant for a campfire out in the woods somewhere.
What I can say is that it’s a psychological as well as an emotional wound.
When the wound is fresh, the pain is unforgiving and like an itch you can’t scratch that maybe is on your back or in a place you ABSOLUTELY cannot reach. Contrary to popular belief it can be treated, although some cases are much stronger than others.
When the wound becomes a scar, there’s still the memory of waking up at 3 AM on the dot screaming at the top of MY lungs drenched in my bed sheets thinking I wet the bed like I did when I was kid, but instead I felt like I ran a marathon from the massive amount sweat I exerted.
There’s the frustration I have with being at birthday parties or events where balloons are present and kids are making that annoying rubbing sound on blown up balloons and I’m waiting for…
