I Have Ptsd
Fish Out Of Water... It's been so long ago I have no idea how I met Duane online or how he even came into my life.
We were separate branches and he didn't want to get married until his tour was over. Plus he was struggling with the fact I didn't have the urge to convert to Christianity. I didn't understand the big deal but it was one to him.
When deployment time came I was sent to Germany and he went to Afghanistan. This was the first major push to start the war after the 9/11 attacks.
Duane left before I did and our communication was random. I'd get a blip on my .mil email from him and it would make my day better.
After I got to Germany I received one email from Duane. A week goes by, this is normal. Two weeks goes by, still normal but missing him. Three weeks goes by, something is terribly wrong.
In the middle of the 4th week I get an email from his best friend Doug who is the combat medic. I get instructions to sit down after getting a glass of water and to make sure I have some privacy.
Doug tells me I will be getting a package in the mail with things Duane wanted me to have. Doug also said there will be more information about what went on in the mail because he didn't want to air out dirty laundry on monitored email.
I knew what this meant. Duane was killed in action.
In the box I got a Bible with some blood dried on the pages and a hand written letter neatly folded and placed in a ziplock bag which was tucked away inside the Bible. I also got a stack of pictures and as promised Doug wrote me a letter explaining what had happened in detail.
The stack of pictures were of him and his unit building schools and helping Iraqi kids. Then things started to get weird. Pictures of dead dogs and birds, blown up road side bombs, and general depressive things I didn't want to look at. The one that got me the most was seeing a photocopied picture of Duane with half of his face missing.
I will never forget the dark pools of black surrounding him and covering his uniform. Skin folded back, teeth and jaw showing.
The letter said: I'm so sorry, I love you. Please move on.
I mentally lost it. That night I burned everything that was mailed to me. I hung on to a few of the "happier" pictures but they were lost when I moved around and I had a jealous boyfriend at one point that threw the ones I did have away.
Writing about this I have tears in my eyes and my throat feels like someone has their hands around it and are squeezing. My chest hurts. Sometimes I have dead body dreams. I have sat up in bed in the middle of the night from a dead sleep thinking I was getting mortared. I have gotten up and done weird shit in the middle of the night for no reason, like closing open doors and adjusting the blinds.
I am aware of my symptoms, but can you blame me?
We were separate branches and he didn't want to get married until his tour was over. Plus he was struggling with the fact I didn't have the urge to convert to Christianity. I didn't understand the big deal but it was one to him.
When deployment time came I was sent to Germany and he went to Afghanistan. This was the first major push to start the war after the 9/11 attacks.
Duane left before I did and our communication was random. I'd get a blip on my .mil email from him and it would make my day better.
After I got to Germany I received one email from Duane. A week goes by, this is normal. Two weeks goes by, still normal but missing him. Three weeks goes by, something is terribly wrong.
In the middle of the 4th week I get an email from his best friend Doug who is the combat medic. I get instructions to sit down after getting a glass of water and to make sure I have some privacy.
Doug tells me I will be getting a package in the mail with things Duane wanted me to have. Doug also said there will be more information about what went on in the mail because he didn't want to air out dirty laundry on monitored email.
I knew what this meant. Duane was killed in action.
In the box I got a Bible with some blood dried on the pages and a hand written letter neatly folded and placed in a ziplock bag which was tucked away inside the Bible. I also got a stack of pictures and as promised Doug wrote me a letter explaining what had happened in detail.
The stack of pictures were of him and his unit building schools and helping Iraqi kids. Then things started to get weird. Pictures of dead dogs and birds, blown up road side bombs, and general depressive things I didn't want to look at. The one that got me the most was seeing a photocopied picture of Duane with half of his face missing.
I will never forget the dark pools of black surrounding him and covering his uniform. Skin folded back, teeth and jaw showing.
The letter said: I'm so sorry, I love you. Please move on.
I mentally lost it. That night I burned everything that was mailed to me. I hung on to a few of the "happier" pictures but they were lost when I moved around and I had a jealous boyfriend at one point that threw the ones I did have away.
Writing about this I have tears in my eyes and my throat feels like someone has their hands around it and are squeezing. My chest hurts. Sometimes I have dead body dreams. I have sat up in bed in the middle of the night from a dead sleep thinking I was getting mortared. I have gotten up and done weird shit in the middle of the night for no reason, like closing open doors and adjusting the blinds.
I am aware of my symptoms, but can you blame me?
41-45, F
