PTSD- It's Not Just For Veterans

I love that I've seen posts like this on Facebook over the last few days leading up to the Fourth of July. I love that people are aware of the effects that fireworks can have on those with PTSD from war. And I love that people want to be courteous because of it. I think that that's amazing.

It's been making me think though. Today has been really hard for me too in a lot of ways, also because I have PTSD, but not because of explosions, not because of war. And it was a great day in so many ways! Yet I was on the verge of tears for a lot of it, whether anyone could tell or not.

Before I go on, you should read this. I was officially diagnosed with PTSD a couple of months ago, but only just now looked up the symptoms and was amazed by how spot on they are. I can completely relate with all of the symptoms listed here.

Okay, continuing on.

I didn't have plans for today. For the last week or so people have asked me what my plans were for the Fourth of July and I didn't have any, but they were going to Utah or something, so couldn't make plans with me either.

But last night an awesome friend of mine invited me to watch the parade on Main with her, so I did. And then at the parade I was invited to go swimming with some people in my ward. And so I did. And I went to Idaho Falls with them to watch the fireworks too! We played games, ate food, made a massage train, and then enjoyed one of the best fireworks displays I have ever seen (which is saying something for me).

It was truly a wonderful day. I am so grateful for my friends for reaching out and letting me tag along.

But. During the parade police cars passed, and I couldn't help but wonder if any of the policemen that have worked on my ex-fiance's case were in any of them.

And then on the way to the lake we passed the courthouse and jail. And the thought that my ex-fiance was in there over a holiday while I was hanging out with friends hurt me.

And then going to IF to see the fireworks was hard because I distinctly remember going there last year and just missing him so badly because we were doing long distance at the time and I just desperately wished that he could be sitting there, watching the fireworks with me instead of 2,000 some miles away. But then also having the lovely thought that after we got married, I wouldn't have to celebrate another holiday without him ever again. I also realized that next month it'll be a year since we got engaged.

And then I again remembered that this year he's sitting in jail on the Fourth. And I wondered if he could hear fireworks going off. Or the parade as it went right by the jail on Main. And if he could, was it as hard on him as I imagine it would be?

I hate to think of him in there. I mean, I'm glad that he is where he is because I think that it is proper for the crime that he committed. And honestly, it might even be good for him that he is missing a holiday with friends and family. Yet it still pains me to think about because I still can't shake the image of him as the man that I fell in love with. And the thought of that man sitting alone in jail on the Fourth of July is what hurts, even if he didn't end up really being the man that I thought that he was after all.

And so all day I've just had this sadness tainting everything else.

I started crying at one point during the fireworks. I pushed the tears away quickly and managed to stop, but I still felt fairly miserable despite the spectacular show.

On the car ride home, one of my wonderful friends played Uno with me over, and over, and over again. As long as I wanted to play, he would play. And I don't know that he truly realizes how important that was.

Because if I hadn't been distracted with a game and everyone had been dozing or on their phones during the long ride home, then I would have been left to my thoughts, left to my loneliness, and I probably would have broken down finally.

I needed him to keep playing Uno with me because I was afraid of what would happen if we stopped.

Everything that's been going through my head today made me think about Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. Before this year, I always thought of PTSD as something that soldiers home from Afghanistan had. And that was pretty much it.

And then MY world fell apart. Not with a bomb or a gunshot. But it fell apart just the same.

And I was asking people to skip songs that made me hurt inside. And I would ask that we watch a different movie for movie night because I knew that I wouldn't be able to handle the one that they had planned. And I would leave a game night after being there for only twenty minutes because I just couldn't handle trying to be overly social at the moment.

And my incredible friends have always been completely understanding and that means the world to me. I really wish that I could help them all to see how much they have done- and continue to do -for me. Because I always feel bad asking things of them or leaving early. But not because they made me feel bad. Those things never seem to matter to them, they really don't seem to mind one bit. And that's why they're amazing.

Because everyone is aware, if not sensitive of, veterans' suffering from PTSD. But there are so many others out there with PTSD that people probably don't know about. People who were in bad accidents or lost loved ones or were raped or were victims or witnesses of some other crime.

This whole experience has taught me what it's like to suffer from PTSD. To be emotionally set off by the simplest things. To look over my shoulder all the time because I think that I saw him. And every time I know that it couldn't actually be him because he was in Utah or (now) jail. But I still double check because I have to be sure. Anyone with a similar haircut or build or gait freaks me out. And even after the double check, even after I know that it's not actually him, I'm still emotionally in turmoil after seeing "him."

And I know the feelings of depression, anxiety, and social withdrawal. And the lightheadedness and headaches. And the nightmares and sleeplessness. And I understand the need to avoid things that make you think of an event, or in my case, a person. And to be so keyed up and anxious that it's hard to focus or get to sleep.

And while my situation, and the resulting repercussions have been fairly well known, not everyone's are. I think that we'd be shocked to find out how just how many of the people around us are suffering from some sort of PTSD.

And so I just ask that we offer the same courtesy to those with PTSD that are not veterans as we do to those who are. And they may not ever come out and say that they have PTSD, and they might not ask you to change a song. But try to be aware. Look around you. Does someone look sad or uncomfortable all of a sudden? It's very possible that it's because they've been triggered.

So pay attention, and don't ignore the heads that are hanging down right in front of you. Be there. Be a friend. Be the kind of person who doesn't make anyone feel like they can't request a song or movie or topic change. Be the kind of person that acts like it's no big deal because it's really NOT that big of a deal in the grand scheme of things, but we still feel bad for asking.

I have been so, SO blessed to be surrounded by such understanding people. I hope to be able to bring some awareness so that others who are struggling can receive the same caliber of love, support, and understanding that I have received.

And you can help those who are struggling without really ever knowing the impact that you are having.

Going back to today's example:

I probably would have broken down a few times today if things had gone differently. Last night I was already starting to struggle with the memories of last year and thoughts of how I was in the same place today as last year but he is in a very, very different situation than last year. I broke down late last night. And I likely would have again today if I hadn't been unwittingly rescued by some friends. They kept me busy all day and gave me something to turn to when I started to feel overwhelmed with it all. I would latch on to a game or conversation. Even just being with people was at least enough for me to push it all down and try to focus on something else so that I wasn't just sad all day. I was actually really happy for a lot of it.

I don't think that my friends realized (and if they did, probably not fully) how much I was struggling today. They helped me not because I asked them to or even because they knew that I needed it. They helped me in a way that probably didn't feel like helping to them. They helped me simply by being my friend and including me.

And you can do that. Just be nice to people, be inclusive. Invite those people that you don't know very well to do things with you. Because you might be the only one that does. You might be the one who helps them to feel loved. You might be the one that helps them to swallow the PTSD for a little bit and actually enjoy themselves for a bit.

Because it'll creep back in later. It's always there, always present. But it sure is nice to be able to get even a little bit of a break from it. And that moment of relief almost always comes from time spent with friends.

You have the power to help provide that relief. You only have to decide to use it.