I recently triggered an episode in a good friend of mine. He was hit by an IED in July. He was home on convalescent leave and asked me to take him on some errands. He suffers from TBI and spinal and neck injuries plus terrible headaches. I was so careful driving because of all the pain, anyway he asked me to pull into a drive through for something to drink and I hit the curb, OMG, Bless his heart, he went white and was gasping, sweat was pouring off of him and he was shaking terribly. I’ll never forget the look on his face. I still feel terrible about it.
I hope your wife was forgiving. I thought about how that could have resulted in a terrible outcome but he finally was woken enough by her pleas of saying, “It’s me” and her name. I agree with you. I don’t think PTSD is that hard to develop. I have it to some degree (of course I would never, ever begin to imply anything like what one goes through in military combat) due to being beaten and abused in my first marriage. I also worked with a guy that was horribly abused by his father and walked up to him once and tapped him and he freaked out. Another co-worker told me the story. He was a lovely man and I just felt bad. Only God knows the internal demons that we deal with.
God bless you for your service esp due to the way you were treated when you guys came home. I salute you all.
Although I've never received any sort of counseling or treatment, I've had to deal with it myself. I have made adjustments in how I do things and I act in ways that are not what my impulses tell me to do. (Does that make sense?) When I want to kill someone, I have to walk away and take my mind elsewhere. When I have the dreams, i tell my wife about them. she listens and calms me.
Overall, these techniques have kept me out of trouble most of the time but not always. In the instances that my reaction to some minor aggravation has gotten me into trouble, I've tried to learn from the incident and to avoid repeating it. I can't have the window shade above the toilet open (even though we live in the woods and no one can see in) because of the sniper that exists in my mind waiting to take the shot when I'm framed by the window. It's a hell of a way to live.