LovebirdsFlying
My husband drew this cartoon of me.
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For those who are unfamiliar, PTSD is Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. It's what they used to call shell shock. It's most common in military personnel who have experienced war, but it also exists in abuse survivors such as myself. The site I linked to here says it can happen in anyone who has experienced a life-threatening event.
I had a doctor's appointment today. Normally we schedule these things for hubby to be's day off so he can be with me, but this time it couldn't be helped. I took a bus. So there I am at the transit center, waiting for my connection, when a young punk who looked to be in his mid to late teens (hereafter referred to as YP, for "young punk") suddenly recognized someone he apparently had a beef with. YP ran off toward that person, screaming obscenities, and began shoving him, obviously picking a physical fight. Security acted immediately, but YP showed no respect. Amid more obscenities, he responded, "You're nothing. You're not a cop. You're just a security guard." Then when told that the police were going to be called, YP dared the security guard to do so--with still more shouted obscenities, of course.
Everyone did their jobs very well. No one was hurt. The police arrived quickly, at about the same time my bus did, so I didn't see beyond that. It happened just a few feet away from me but didn't involve me in any way. I did not speak to, or make direct eye contact with, the perpetrator or his intended victim. Nor did I discuss it with any transit employee other than hubby to be, who is a transit employee himself, when he called to make sure I got home all right. He'd already heard there had been trouble at the transit center, and says he's sorry I had to see it.
When I got on the bus, I was shaking badly and felt nauseous. And, I was boiling with rage toward YP. Which was serving no purpose whatsoever, since everything that needed to be done about the matter had been done. It took me a while to calm down. If I had somehow been provoked again, by some small matter, I could easily have gone off like a bottle rocket myself, and created another scene. Sort of a cascade effect.
Those feelings are so uncomfortable, and I hate having them. Why do I get SO disturbed?
I had a doctor's appointment today. Normally we schedule these things for hubby to be's day off so he can be with me, but this time it couldn't be helped. I took a bus. So there I am at the transit center, waiting for my connection, when a young punk who looked to be in his mid to late teens (hereafter referred to as YP, for "young punk") suddenly recognized someone he apparently had a beef with. YP ran off toward that person, screaming obscenities, and began shoving him, obviously picking a physical fight. Security acted immediately, but YP showed no respect. Amid more obscenities, he responded, "You're nothing. You're not a cop. You're just a security guard." Then when told that the police were going to be called, YP dared the security guard to do so--with still more shouted obscenities, of course.
Everyone did their jobs very well. No one was hurt. The police arrived quickly, at about the same time my bus did, so I didn't see beyond that. It happened just a few feet away from me but didn't involve me in any way. I did not speak to, or make direct eye contact with, the perpetrator or his intended victim. Nor did I discuss it with any transit employee other than hubby to be, who is a transit employee himself, when he called to make sure I got home all right. He'd already heard there had been trouble at the transit center, and says he's sorry I had to see it.
When I got on the bus, I was shaking badly and felt nauseous. And, I was boiling with rage toward YP. Which was serving no purpose whatsoever, since everything that needed to be done about the matter had been done. It took me a while to calm down. If I had somehow been provoked again, by some small matter, I could easily have gone off like a bottle rocket myself, and created another scene. Sort of a cascade effect.
Those feelings are so uncomfortable, and I hate having them. Why do I get SO disturbed?
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