In case you have heard yet, I am afflicted by something called Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD). OK, now that you have had your horrified reaction, and are beginning to inch away from me slowly, let me stop you and tell you something about me and the THOUSANDS of others who suffer from or have come to understand and reclaim their lives frm this.
Unlike what Hollywood would have you believe...the vast majority of us are NOT a mass murderer on a razor's edge between the good and a killing spree. We are more likely to kill off all of our relationships and several bottles of our own brand of self-medication, be it in liquid, pill or some other form, than we are to go harm innocent folks.
What brings this about...why do we snap, have arguments with any and everyone at the drop of a mote of dust, alienate those we love, hide in the bottom of a bottle, shut out the world and if we do still interact with the world, it seems like we are living for a death-wish than anything else seeking a constant source of adrenaline high that makes the antics in Crank look almost (I did say almost we aren't generally THAT outrageous) tame by comparison.
Well, it is generally one of three things or a combination thereof. We saw DEATH. Face to Face. Whether it was our moment and we cheated Thanatos or it was the moment of someone with whom we have been almost as or more intimate with than some of our lovers...joked, cried, lived and lied with, or maybe even someone(s) that we didn't know but who shouldn't have died due the the innocence that surrounded them. That confrontation, that glimpse of Death was overpowering. And yet we survived. WHY!?! Why did I survive? That is the first way that one of us becomes infected with this disease. And it doesn't have to be in combat. Any severe trauma where Death and his Pale horse breathed upon us, where the swish of the scthe was more than a mere whisper but a seeming howl as it moved, can make someone unable to process it all in the way our minds work normally and cause us to have issue.
The next is when we become death incarnate for a moment. When we are the dealer of destruction. For most human beings the choice to take the life of another human, even when it is a matter of survival, even when it is wholly and completely justified, is abhorrent to our moral self. Reckoning our own individual morality with what we have done is a fight that appears to be irreconciliable. And the third goes along the lines of the second but does not have to do with killing but having done some other act that causes our psyche to feel as if we have transgressed irreparably upon our own moral code. that there is no salvation, no penance, no reparation that is possible to redeem us from what we have done (even if we have taken Jesus into our hearts and excepted him as Lord and Savior).
Ladies and gentlemen. The people with PTSD that you may know, for the most part are not going to do a Dr Jekyell Mr Hyde on you. If you have known them prior to the trauma, you will notice changes in them. They WILL be different. But they have not become a monster. If they are seeking help, continue to support them and love them, and try to understand them. Even if they seem to be utterly alien to you. Things will get better. Maybe not to what once was, but they will get better. If they have not sought help, urge them to. This is "brain" surgery of a sort, and "self-medication" isn't going to fix the problem. On occasion it may get ugly. It will be scary, and yes, unfortunately it may turn violent. But without help, they will do one of two things...Die violently (vehicle crash, adrenaline high seeking fatal mishap, or as a criminal), or die old, mean and utterly alone. Neither is fitting for most people, and when it comes to our Heroes in uniform (military or public safety), it is an utter tragedy.
Have you hugged your Veteran today?
