A Confession.

I came to realize last night that...

I've talked to doctors. Three of them to be exact. The first one, a psychologist, told me to talk to a therapist on a regular basis. She said I may not feel any of it now, but in due time it could start haunting me and hurting my relationships. That eventually the guilt might eat up at me and keep me from trusting people.

She was right. It's been almost two years since i've spoken to her.

The second one told me if I started having nightmares and such, it'd be normal. That the pain and suffering I was going through was normal. However, he told me that if it kept up I would have to go see a specialized therapist.

I ignored the advice from him too.

The third doctor I spoke with, I spoke to her a few months back. She told me what I was experiencing was normal, yes. That I would probably be living with it for the rest of my life. But she told me there was hope. That talking to a therapist or going to group therapy with others like myself would help me. That it wasn't too late for me to get help before it overran my thoughts and my life.

Can you guess what I did? I ignored her too.

But last night, it has come to my attention that ... it's true. I need help.

My confession? I won't get into detail about it. Not here, not now. Now is not the time.

I guess this is kinda why I have so much pity for our members in the military returning from a war zone where they've seen things and experienced things we civilians have the privileged of not seeing/experiencing. The nightmares, the flashbacks... all of it. I know how it feels. I know what it's like to wake up kicking, screaming and crying in the middle of the night. To have those flashbacks. To freeze in the middle of a movie or anything because something triggers that memory.

I may be young, but I've seen enough PTSD to understand what it does to it's victims.

And I? Yes. I'm a victim as well.

I have PTSD.

I don't want to admit it, and I've always put it off, but it's been two years. The dreams still seem just as vivid as always, I still experience the flashbacks.


I feel like i've already said too much when i've barely said anything at all. One baby step at a time. PTSD ruins lives, yes. But I won't let it ruin mine. Maybe I'll get into detail about this some other time. We'll see.

Other than that, I'm alive and well.