I have PTSD. Like so many I denied I had a problem for many years. This denial resulted is an inability to hold a job for longer than 3 years. It also resulted in 2 divorces. For many years I had recurring night mares but refused to seek care. After all, I wasn’t crazy. It was not until my life hit the low point and I found myself with a hand full of pills, preparing to end it all, that I finally sought help. At the time, the Veterans Administration still required proof of a specific stressor, something I could not provide. I was one of those medics treating severely injured soldiers and marines in the rear on the hospital ship the USS Sanctuary. It was not until sometime later that I was able to identify one specific stressor. A young marine had been brought to the ship with severe wounds to his hands and the doctor said the fingers had to go. I cut through the little skin that remained and watched them fall into a basin. While this was and continues to be the night mare I endure almost nightly, proving it happened was impossible. Did it really occur or was I making it up? It was not until years later that the Veterans Administration came to realize that individuals like myself had multiple stressors; stressors that could not be identified specifically. Today I live day to day. I try to do all I can to assure that my fellow veterans are not forgotten. Were it not for my family I would not be here. They support me regardless. The other person that makes my life full is my faithful DOG. Regardless of my mood Dog is here at my feet.
Posted on: Mon, 11 Nov 2013 19:56:16 +0000
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