PTSD - I thought only solider got it

Post traumatic stress disorder is a term I have heard in reference to veterans who have been mentally scared from battle. But as I was informed by my therapist that anyone who has suffered a trauma in their life can suffer from it. I found this to be the case for me. My son's death has left me with some of the same characteristics that I see in my brother, who is a Vietnam vet. I didn't understand his behavior until I myself have had some of the same symptoms. Sometimes there are times when I just feel overwehlmed with life in general, crowds make me nervous and I have the feeling that I must flee my surrounding sometimes. It is hard to explain this to someone who has never felt this way because it is as if you just lose control of your own behavior, your subconcience mind takes control, sending you in a state of panic. My mind replays things over and over, horrible things about my sons death that I don't want to relive, but cannot help but do so. Little things that make the trauma surface again and again....like right now for the last week I have been thinking about cleaning out Brandon's room. Yes it has been over 8 years and it has been left untouched, but I feel it is time to clean it out, but my mind keeps going back to the day we picked out his bedroom furniture. The salesman was giving us the sales pitch that the furniture was of good quality, solid wood and would last him years, even into marriage. Brandon was with me this day and I let him pick out his furniture. I would have never thought that the furniture would out live/last my son's life, but it has. For the past two weeks this thought has passed my mind more than once daily, the words the saleman spoke that day, I never imagined that those words would make me feel so sad. How can this be that this furniture is here, but Brandon is not....I don't understand and again my mind just keep replaying these words. I see a child with blonde hair and instantly my mind goes to a small boy with beautiful blonde hair that was mine and now he is gone. These children always bring a image of my son to me again reminding me that a part of my heart is missing and will never return. There are times like right now tonight that I am so tired but my mind is racing with thoughts of my son and I cannot sleep. PSTD causes floods of panic to run through your body when memories are triggered by something and it can be just the smallest thing. I remember right after Brandon died being in the grocery store, I saw corn dogs, he loved me to buy corn dogs, after this sighting I felt that panic, it is a strange feeling that manifested in me making me wanting to flee, so that is what I did that day got out of the store as fast as I could, my heart pounding, feel anxious and just hurting all over. I still have issues with crowds, I feel stifled as if I cannot take all of the energy that their bodies emit and again feel that I have to get away. Maybe this explains why I enjoy so much going away from my home, too many memories, always wanting to run away hoping that the change of scenery will make vivid pictures go away, at least for a small amount of time. I cannot tolerate people who don't really understand the gift they have been given who have children. Yes they can be exasperating, but let me tell you the alternative of them not being here to drive you crazy is much worst of a hell than all the trouble they give you. I know this is something no one can understand until they have been standing in the shoes that a walk in everyday. The trauma that I have suffered from my son's death has given me a much clearer picture of the value of children no matter how crazy they make you, because believe me if something happens to them that makes them not here to drive you crazy, will actually make you crazy. That is the way I feel at times crazy, trying to sort out all the thoughts in my mind and make sense why this has happened. I found no solutions, I am a practible person wanting the answers and trying to figure out why things have to happen the way they do. I cannot rationlize why my son had to die and that makes my mind go over and over the events of my son's death, which then makes me stressed, my nervous system has never been one of the strongest of my features, now I feel it is just shot.....trying to remember things that happened when my son was small, visualizing what he would look like now and what he would be doing. Obsessing over why this had to happen, reliving the day, the moments after I heard the news, the funeral, the calls, the days that followed when I found myself only able to get up, get my daughter to school and just lie on the couch feeling as if my blood had been drained from my body, everything was an effort to do. Now after 8 years at 11:00 at night my mind still plays the same conversations over and over that my son and I had so many years ago. Maybe I am not far from insanity, because sometimes I feel as if I am right at the edge and I have to pull myself back to reality. PTSD takes away a zest for life, because you have lived through a nightmare and the nightmare continues and will do so for the rest of your life. So in closing, this is another lesson I have learned that we can never judge a person and saying that they just need to get over it, because if it was that simply, those of us who suffer from PTSD and trauma would surely choose to do so, so we would be able to find that peace that I am looking for but still having trouble finding. So now I know how uncontrollable PTSD can be, your mind simply takes over and throws all of fears and hurts right back at you and all you can do is relive them and hope that they become less with time, I myself cannot see this as the case, but maybe this is where need to read more of the Bible to find out how the people of this period lived through so much, but survived. I think because of their faith it gave them the strength to deal with all of the issues. I need to do the same.

Life

I just got off chatting on facebook with my neighbor and was told that our other neighbor's mother, who is a sweet, loving woman, is losing her battle with cancer. It makes me think about the pain that accompanies death. All of the people who love the person dying is having to go through the steps to watch their loved one move on from this life on earth to another. I have to think that the ones here left on earth are the unlucky ones. We have to finish our life with a void created from the death, along with that comes emotional pain, wondering if we did everything we should have for that person and then we have to deal with all of the emotions that come with it for the rest of our lives. I choose to believe that when it is our time to exit this earth we will be going on to a place which is radiated with love, all sadness, pain, anger and emptiness is filled with nothing but happiness. We get to be reunited with the ones that we have lost before it was our time to leave and move on. This has to be a joyous moment, then we know that all that we have endured during our life on earth led up to this and it has to feel like complete nirvana. I often wonder if those who pass on can look down on all of us here on earth grieving their loss and thinking, I wish they knew how wonderful it is here and know that I am fine and will be waiting for them when they arrive. I have to think this way to make the pain from losing my son bearable and prepare me for the loss of those who I love that go on before me. I hope that when it is my time I will be able to send a sign to my love ones that I am okay and give them some peace. I think my son Brandon has done that, I just need to pay attention and believe, not question these signs. I feel for all of us who are left here on this planet to suffer the loss of our family, friends and others that we have met on the road of life. I just have to believe that there will come a time when we all meet again and we will find out why we had to learn the life lessons we did here and all of our questions be answered. I pray for the family of my neighbor, I know they will miss their mother, grandmother and even great-grandmother, but I am sure she will be reunited with her husband watching over all of them.

Thinking of my children

Right now as I sit in our condo in Mexico my thoughts are on my children. My daughter is on her way home from a great summer trip, Semester at Sea, she has been gone 58 days and will be home in 7 days, I cannot wait to see her. I missed her this summer, this is the time she is usually home from college and I feel whole again with her at home. Still even in this beautiful place located right on the ocean, my heart aches for my son. The ocean does seem to give me some of the peace that I seek. The sound of the waves crashing have a tranquil affect on me. Why is it that woman who become mothers are always change from the moment that their baby is born? I think children are life's greatest treasure, our legacy to the world. It is with this thought that I hope that I have given my children what the needed as they grew up, they know I love them, maybe I don't say the words often enough, but I know they know. I should learn to verbalize my love more, because I know that I wish I would have with my son, but our time ran out too soon. My daughter is my world, I don't know if this is good or bad....she has her own life to live and I don't want to be a burden for her. I know she feels that she has to make up for the loss that our family has suffered, that is a big burden to carry, she misses her brother and also feels she has to do everything right to help her parents. I cannot explain in words the depth of my pain when I think about my son. My mind wanders to all kinds of things, something I hear on television can bring up horrible images in my mind, the other day a character on tv mentioned "only a bag of bones in a box" referring to a dead person. As soon as I heard these words my mind flashed to the day I had to see my son laying in his casket, I just couldn't handle it, I feel to my knees not wanting to believe my eyes....this image automatically came up when I heard the quote above, then I just thought of the bones in the casket that was once my son, as I write this tears fill my eyes and I sharp piercing pain hits my heart. It is hard to explain how emotional pain can cause physical pain, but I know it is possible because it happens to me, just like at this moment. I wonder if there will ever be a time when this ends, I doubt it. But I have to stay tough and learn to enjoy the time I have with my daughter, again trying to look past my pain to a brighter tomorrow. Why is it so hard? I wish I had the answer so I could solve my dilema.