The Price to be Superman: Combat PTSD

Hey, we have those moments that run into eternity sometimes it seems, lol. We must cry to grieve the part of ourselves that we lost in those moments when we had to hold it together. Who said we always had to hold it together? Did we do what was required to save more then we lost? That is why we must cry today, for in doing what we needed to do then we paid a price. Today, you cry for those who were lost. And for what we must accept as our personal responsibility in our actions as weighed against the incalculable absurdity of war (my account of one event where I accept the appropriate level of responsibility for my actions thus enabling me to work through that aspect of my war trauma).

We paid a price to be superman in the moment, to perform flawlessly for days on end without sleep to carry or guide our guys across alien landscapes as war erupted and ripped through the dunes. We were the super soldiers in the commercials they show for brief moments of controlled fear that required our full attention or people would and did die. We were kids with million dollar pieces of equipment with the most sophisticated weapons in the world shooting targets like the video games. Except, niggling behind the commercial appeal of the technology, we were killing people.

While I had the advantage, our enemy fought with a fierce zeal to the tune of over 20,000 deaths in 100 hours. These are the flashbacks that I have and experiences daily. It is frightening when I'm having a really cool moment with people and these images become strewn about their faces, trying to attach themselves. I fight to separate the flashbacks from the people in reality. At times when others act defensive or passive aggressively it triggers me, happened today with a friend of mine. What is the appropriate response to that, "Excuse me, but I need a moment all I can see right now is the bright red glare of vaporized people misting in the air."