Hooked up with a friend who happens to be an Iraqi war vet. Apparently he spent one Christmas hunkered down in enemy territory because the winds were so bad helicopters were grounded.
The topic of PTSD came up in relation to both of us having to look mortality head on, and he made an interesting comment to the effect that he'd already died, and he was just waiting for his body to catch up. Rather a sad thing to hear from someone in his mid 20's.
I don't think that it's death, but I am certainly feeling like I'm still waiting a coin to drop somewhere. Yet I *am* changed.
Friday, December 20, 2013
Saturday, December 14, 2013
It's been nine months now. I was posting on a friend's FB wall and made an off-hand comment about the incident, not realizing that we'd become friends AFTER my attack and she'd had no idea of what had happened to me. so I sent her a brief FB message providing some detail about what happened, and the reality of being that close to dying reared its head a bit.
I guess this prompts the question of how much I'm still suppressing, if anything. Is it something that holds you back until you finish the process of dealing with it? Or is it more like an onion you carry around, where you pull it out every once in a while, peel off a layer (with the kind of tears you also seem to get when you're peeling onions) while you keep moving forward (with a trail of onion peels behind you to mark your path)?
I may be in denial, but I believe I've done well. I did have to deal with a certain amount of disappointment in feeling like I was somehow abandoned, but the flip side of that is that I've always projected the image of self-sufficiency and a change from that may have created a different environment that might not have been as healthy. And the reality is that it wasn't just about me. We were attacked as a group, and I made the choice to carry on business as usual to minimize the chance of creating a post trauma environment that might have freaked out others in the group.
But it feels like I have to deal with this in stealth mode in relation to the group. And I find myself not able to do this cheerfully at times.
I guess this prompts the question of how much I'm still suppressing, if anything. Is it something that holds you back until you finish the process of dealing with it? Or is it more like an onion you carry around, where you pull it out every once in a while, peel off a layer (with the kind of tears you also seem to get when you're peeling onions) while you keep moving forward (with a trail of onion peels behind you to mark your path)?
I may be in denial, but I believe I've done well. I did have to deal with a certain amount of disappointment in feeling like I was somehow abandoned, but the flip side of that is that I've always projected the image of self-sufficiency and a change from that may have created a different environment that might not have been as healthy. And the reality is that it wasn't just about me. We were attacked as a group, and I made the choice to carry on business as usual to minimize the chance of creating a post trauma environment that might have freaked out others in the group.
But it feels like I have to deal with this in stealth mode in relation to the group. And I find myself not able to do this cheerfully at times.
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