I don’t know if there is a Post Traumatic Stress Disorder day in the calender. But if it is I will celebrate it.
What is a Post Traumatic Stress Disorder?
Due to the National Institute of National Health Post Traumatic Stress Disorder is:
PTSD is a disorder that develops in some people who have experienced a shocking, scary, or dangerous event.
It is natural to feel afraid during and after a traumatic situation. Fear triggers many split-second changes in the body to help defend against danger or to avoid it. This “fight-or-flight” response is a typical reaction meant to protect a person from harm. Nearly everyone will experience a range of reactions after trauma, yet most people recover from initial symptoms naturally. Those who continue to experience problems may be diagnosed with PTSD. People who have PTSD may feel stressed or frightened even when they are not in danger.
You can feel this sensations after being raped, after being in war or seeing horribel accidents or having the fear and belief that your life is in severe danger.
27 years ago I was attacked. And the scars remains.
And today I had a flashback when I was about to sell my car.
I was just going to sell my car. A normal thing to do. And a guy called and said he was very interested in seeing the car and he and his friends wanted to come and see it. But after deciding place and time my heart started to race.
Three guys and me in a garage? The memories from 27 years ago suddenly were fresh as the attack happened yesterday. And I started to look for my pepper spray or something else to defend myself with.
When I went to the garage I had my boyfriend in the telefone. He called from Madrid. If something did happen he couldn’t help me. Still it was a life line to hear his voice.
Meanwhile a war was going on inside of me, three polite guys camed and looked at the car and said no thank you and left. And I returned to my flat with a racing heart and a feeling of shame.
It was a Post Traumatic Stress Disorder day for me, even if it wasn’t in the calender.
And the worst part wasn’t the memories or the fast heartbeats. The worst part was the shame I felt. You know, that kind of shame who doesn’t go away with a shower.
So here I am. Not knowing what to do this evening.
Still I’m glad I’m alive and that my boys are alive.
And with that, I wish everyone of you a nice sunday evening and a good week to come.