PTSD...one moment in time...
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Join Date: Aug 2004
Posts: 780
PTSD...one moment in time...
December 1, 1991. 2:36am--
He was alone, in his patrol car on a cold, early morning in December.
Stopped at a traffic light, he could barely make out the young man's face.
A troubled, confused young man. He blatantly accelerated, taunting the officer.
The cop gave chase.
It seemed to last for hours on end, kind of
a slow motion chase, never going over 50 mph.
Through the streets of the suburb, the cop
maintained control and safety for the good
people of his community.
Twisting and turning, weaving and accelerating,
the chase continued. The cop called for backup.
The young man would not pull over, he just kept
going, going. On and on he went, and the cop calmly
pursued the young man with the composure of a well-trained, seasoned officer.
Backup arrived, and as a trail of a labyrinth was made, the young man's car came to a halt.
He emerged from the hell hole of his car and for no reason other than to hurt, because he was hurting so, opened fire on the police.
The backup officer was hit. The cop fired. Several shots echoed up and down the street. The assailant shot again, hitting the cop. Miraculously,
the bullet passed clean through the badge on the breast of the cop's jacket. It deflected the bullet away from his torso and came to rest in his shoulder.
He didn't feel any pain. The adrenalin coursed through his veins as though he had it intravenously administered to him. He didn't even know he was hit.
The young man, with long auburn hair, lay on the street, motionless. The cop approached him, and reaching for handcuffs, noticed his own blood dripping down his left arm.
Feeling lightheaded, and another officer noticing the dripping blood, the cop was whisked away from the scene and transported to the hospital.
The young man's cause of death was directly related to the round "the cop" fired at him.
One life ends, another goes on to relive this scenario more frequently than his mind can control...
This is a true story. It happened 20 years ago, today.
The young man has died, buried and gone these 20 years, but the burning memories of the cop keeps the scene alive and replayed over and over again in his mind.
He sees it as fresh and new as if it happened yesterday.
This is Post Traumatic Stress Disorder.
Unforgiving, unrelenting, unremitting. It goes on.
Time does fade some things, but triggers set it off again.
A debilitating ailment. It crushes one's life and proceeds to continue to do so years after the trauma.
This post is in honor of the cop who suffered this event, and for all of the sufferer's of PTSD, no matter what the trauma it precipitated.
Thinking of you, this night. Hoping all is well with you.
He was alone, in his patrol car on a cold, early morning in December.
Stopped at a traffic light, he could barely make out the young man's face.
A troubled, confused young man. He blatantly accelerated, taunting the officer.
The cop gave chase.
It seemed to last for hours on end, kind of
a slow motion chase, never going over 50 mph.
Through the streets of the suburb, the cop
maintained control and safety for the good
people of his community.
Twisting and turning, weaving and accelerating,
the chase continued. The cop called for backup.
The young man would not pull over, he just kept
going, going. On and on he went, and the cop calmly
pursued the young man with the composure of a well-trained, seasoned officer.
Backup arrived, and as a trail of a labyrinth was made, the young man's car came to a halt.
He emerged from the hell hole of his car and for no reason other than to hurt, because he was hurting so, opened fire on the police.
The backup officer was hit. The cop fired. Several shots echoed up and down the street. The assailant shot again, hitting the cop. Miraculously,
the bullet passed clean through the badge on the breast of the cop's jacket. It deflected the bullet away from his torso and came to rest in his shoulder.
He didn't feel any pain. The adrenalin coursed through his veins as though he had it intravenously administered to him. He didn't even know he was hit.
The young man, with long auburn hair, lay on the street, motionless. The cop approached him, and reaching for handcuffs, noticed his own blood dripping down his left arm.
Feeling lightheaded, and another officer noticing the dripping blood, the cop was whisked away from the scene and transported to the hospital.
The young man's cause of death was directly related to the round "the cop" fired at him.
One life ends, another goes on to relive this scenario more frequently than his mind can control...
This is a true story. It happened 20 years ago, today.
The young man has died, buried and gone these 20 years, but the burning memories of the cop keeps the scene alive and replayed over and over again in his mind.
He sees it as fresh and new as if it happened yesterday.
This is Post Traumatic Stress Disorder.
Unforgiving, unrelenting, unremitting. It goes on.
Time does fade some things, but triggers set it off again.
A debilitating ailment. It crushes one's life and proceeds to continue to do so years after the trauma.
This post is in honor of the cop who suffered this event, and for all of the sufferer's of PTSD, no matter what the trauma it precipitated.
Thinking of you, this night. Hoping all is well with you.
Member
Join Date: Aug 2010
Posts: 178
Wow. It is amazing how one moment in time can echo forever in your mind like that - even less than a minute in time can haunt you with constant questioning, like what happened then, why did that happen - if only I had.....
I wrestle with PTSD myself, although the events were many and happened over a long period of time, like one shock after another, or unbearable event on top of unbearable event until all there is is numbness and confusion.
It is getting better over time, but I still am on a bit of a seesaw emotionally. I got so used to that, it seems like my whole biology is used to that.
It's been over for 2 1/2 years and I am only of recent times beginning to feel safe-ish.
The counsellor I saw said it can be called complicated grief or it can be called PTSD. Whatever you want to call it, it's horrible to be on constant rerun of events that you were forced to witness and couldn't control, and watching someone you love slowly destroy themselves )-:
I am so sorry for this policeman. It must be even more shocking when you don't know the person, but still they leave an indelible scar on your soul. Maybe my scar is more bearable because I loved him and he was going to be there forever anyway, but still....
Sometimes I feel like I understand my ex better since he died because the pain has been so intense that I am often trying to fight the urge to self-destruct.
Sometimes I wonder who started all of this??? Somebody hurt somebody who then hurts somebody else and on and on it goes.
I wish this world was kinder than it is and no young man ever felt so hopeless that he didn't care who else he hurt......
I wrestle with PTSD myself, although the events were many and happened over a long period of time, like one shock after another, or unbearable event on top of unbearable event until all there is is numbness and confusion.
It is getting better over time, but I still am on a bit of a seesaw emotionally. I got so used to that, it seems like my whole biology is used to that.
It's been over for 2 1/2 years and I am only of recent times beginning to feel safe-ish.
The counsellor I saw said it can be called complicated grief or it can be called PTSD. Whatever you want to call it, it's horrible to be on constant rerun of events that you were forced to witness and couldn't control, and watching someone you love slowly destroy themselves )-:
I am so sorry for this policeman. It must be even more shocking when you don't know the person, but still they leave an indelible scar on your soul. Maybe my scar is more bearable because I loved him and he was going to be there forever anyway, but still....
Sometimes I feel like I understand my ex better since he died because the pain has been so intense that I am often trying to fight the urge to self-destruct.
Sometimes I wonder who started all of this??? Somebody hurt somebody who then hurts somebody else and on and on it goes.
I wish this world was kinder than it is and no young man ever felt so hopeless that he didn't care who else he hurt......
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