Thanks for the kind words. This was the third short story I ever wrote, and the easiest. Cedar told me she was putting together an anthology (this one) and based on what she had read of my work, wondered if I would like to submit something.
After reading the other works in this book, I felt humbled to even be considered in the same book as some of these folks. I don't have PTSD, but I have enough shipies, partners, and battle buddies that do, to understand it. (of course, reflecting back as I write this, nearly everyone I know says they don't have it, even those that do, so YMMV.)
What I do know is that PTSD is not a new thing. It has existed for as long as there has been combat, or near death experiences. It's gone by different names through the years, it's been called "seeing the elephant," Cafard, Shell shock, Battle fatigue, and many other names. No civilization I've ever heard of has completely evaded it. Some reduced it greatly, and those that did, all did it in the same way. They kept the unit together, and transitioned them slowly from front lines to civilian street, with guys that have been there and done that helping them to transition.
What they haven't done, is take them from the front lines, send them "back to the world", given them a one week class on getting a job, and showed them the gate with a few pieces of paper in their hand, and the "thanks of a grateful nation." (that usually isn't, and doesn't.)
It's even harder for the First Responders, they're "in the world" already, and you're expected to go from pulling some guys head and helmet out of the dually on a big rig, (his body and his bike were 30 yards back) or getting shot at by a KID, or maybe pulling someone's body out of a fire and having them die in your arms on the way out. (the smell is the worst) to going home and playing with the kids, and shopping for Christmas, like flipping a switch.
None of those things happen often, but I've experienced two of the three, and I know guys that have experienced all of these, some several times.
One thing that does help is talking about it. The trouble is that there's a level of required trust, in order to do so. No one that has been through the bad is going to talk about it to someone that they don't trust completely. Not the "I'm a therapist, you can trust me, everything said in this room is confidential" level of trust, but the "I'm good with him with a gun at my back, going through the door" level of trust.
This is one of the strengths of fraternal organizations. They are a place where trust bonds are built to the point where people who have "been and done" feel safe enough to talk about it.
The internet, and the computer age (among other things) is killing those organizations, as people just can't be bothered to create a "tribe" in their town, because they can create an "internet tribe" that is even closer to their own values and beliefs.
It's not the same.
Typing on a keyboard does not replace sitting around a campfire or in the corner of the lodge, with a whiskey in your hand, and talking about it.
Thanks for the kind words. This was the third short story I ever wrote, and the easiest. Cedar told me she was putting together an anthology (this one) and based on what she had read of my work, wondered if I would like to submit something.
After reading the other works in this book, I felt humbled to even be considered in the same book as some of these folks. I don't have PTSD, but I have enough shipies, partners, and battle buddies that do, to understand it. (of course, reflecting back as I write this, nearly everyone I know says they don't have it, even those that do, so YMMV.)
What I do know is that PTSD is not a new thing. It has existed for as long as there has been combat, or near death experiences. It's gone by different names through the years, it's been called "seeing the elephant," Cafard, Shell shock, Battle fatigue, and many other names. No civilization I've ever heard of has completely evaded it. Some reduced it greatly, and those that did, all did it in the same way. They kept the unit together, and transitioned them slowly from front lines to civilian street, with guys that have been there and done that helping them to transition.
What they haven't done, is take them from the front lines, send them "back to the world", given them a one week class on getting a job, and showed them the gate with a few pieces of paper in their hand, and the "thanks of a grateful nation." (that usually isn't, and doesn't.)
It's even harder for the First Responders, they're "in the world" already, and you're expected to go from pulling some guys head and helmet out of the dually on a big rig, (his body and his bike were 30 yards back) or getting shot at by a KID, or maybe pulling someone's body out of a fire and having them die in your arms on the way out. (the smell is the worst) to going home and playing with the kids, and shopping for Christmas, like flipping a switch.
None of those things happen often, but I've experienced two of the three, and I know guys that have experienced all of these, some several times.
One thing that does help is talking about it. The trouble is that there's a level of required trust, in order to do so. No one that has been through the bad is going to talk about it to someone that they don't trust completely. Not the "I'm a therapist, you can trust me, everything said in this room is confidential" level of trust, but the "I'm good with him with a gun at my back, going through the door" level of trust.
This is one of the strengths of fraternal organizations. They are a place where trust bonds are built to the point where people who have "been and done" feel safe enough to talk about it.
The internet, and the computer age (among other things) is killing those organizations, as people just can't be bothered to create a "tribe" in their town, because they can create an "internet tribe" that is even closer to their own values and beliefs.
It's not the same.
Typing on a keyboard does not replace sitting around a campfire or in the corner of the lodge, with a whiskey in your hand, and talking about it.