One Moment in Time…PTSD
Guest
Thread Starter
Join Date: Aug 2004
Posts: 780
One Moment in Time…PTSD
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.
He suddenly felt lightheaded. Another officer noticed the dripping blood. Immediately 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 22 years ago, today.
The young man has died, buried and gone these 22 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, as I always do. Praying for your healing.
__________________
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.
He suddenly felt lightheaded. Another officer noticed the dripping blood. Immediately 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 22 years ago, today.
The young man has died, buried and gone these 22 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, as I always do. Praying for your healing.
__________________
Member
Join Date: Jan 2014
Posts: 60
wow ... my rAH has been diagnosed with PTSD. He has been in treatment for the PTSD and the alcohol for about six weeks with almost three more to go. This gave me a good description of what it feels like. It is strange how other officers deal with the same thing and it doesn't phase them or change who they are. Then there are those who are changed immensely and it affects all aspects of their lives.
I am hoping he is able to come through this and that our family life can eventually become a healthy and happy one.
Thanks for posting
I am hoping he is able to come through this and that our family life can eventually become a healthy and happy one.
Thanks for posting
Member
Join Date: Oct 2006
Location: right here, right now
Posts: 6,516
It's not about anything we did, it's about what was done to us
There is help to find for PTSD. It's frightening to venture into because, at least for me, I thought it was easier to just deny that it was as bad as it was. Pretend it was just a superficial scratch that would heal on its own. Until I got a flashback and couldn't breathe and just wanted to die.
Don't give up.
Currently Active Users Viewing this Thread: 1 (0 members and 1 guests)
