My head is screaming at me right now. Yelling inside my own brain, to not write this. To deny, truth. I have PTSD. And now, I find myself staring at my own screen, almost unable to believe I am going to tell you about this. I have PTSD. I have a mental disorder. An anxiety disorder. And you know what? It does not mean I am crazy. It does not mean that I am going to go postal one day. For me, it means that I suffered through traumatic events, and I look at things differently than most people. It means that, I act in very specific ways, under certain conditions. It means that I have fought for many things in my life. It also means, that I can see things, that others cannot.

I will not tell you how my PTSD came about exactly, it does not really matter. What does matter, is that it was daily, brutal, ritualistic, and I lived through it. I thought I had my PTSD under control. For years, I accepted what I was in many situations, a ghost. Now when I say that I am a ghost, I don’t mean in any literal sense of the word, I’m not Casper. I am the man that no one truly sees. You see me. You make an assumption of me. And then, you dismiss me. I was never really bitter about this, I actually rather enjoyed the, quiet, it granted me. I am often seen as a hard ass, because I am a no-bullshit type of individual. I am often seen as a person who is not nice. I am often seen as a person who does not bother with trying to, “Put myself out there”. I am often seen as the creepy guy in the shadows.

You want to know who I am? I am the hard ass, that will stand by you through all the shit, the world throws at you. I am the no-bullshit type of individual, because I believe that a friend should be able to tell you the truth, whether you want to hear it or not. I am the person you see as not being nice, because you have not taken the time to find out. I am the person who does not bother to “Put myself out there”, because I am happy where I am, with those I am with. I am the creepy guy in the shadows, who is smiling at the sound of your laughter, and enjoys the way your eyes light up due to the happiness you experience. I am also the man that can see the beauty in a flower, or the way water flows around a rock in a river. I am a man who enjoys the smell of a rainstorm, or the smell of a campfire on a cool night. I am also a man who can love a woman, with no reservation, no restraint, and no embarrassment over the fact that I do.

I have fought for years against my PTSD. Struggling to be able to do certain things easier than they were before, and becoming the man I am now. I was very close to achieving something I had never thought possible, and right when I thought it might be possible, life growled back at me. It reared up, and smiled that evil little smile that it has some times, and it put me in the dirt. It did not just sucker punch me, it carpet bombed my ass. And when it did, my old friend PTSD jumped through my window, landed on my bed with muddy shoes, dripping wet, and a handful of balloons, just to let me know that he missed me, and had never really gone away entirely. Gone away? Oh, no. Mr. PTSD had simply been waiting, and working out, because he came back much stronger then I had ever imagined he could be.

When you try to explain your actions, and behavior to others that do not understand, it can be, discouraging to say the least. I accept, who I am. I accept, that I have PTSD. I accept, that it is a fight, that I have to win. Not only for myself, but for those I am lucky enough to have in my life. I accept that, when I look back at certain things, and they were not what I believed, or thought they were, that I have to be strong enough to fight again to make those things right. I accept that it will be difficult. I accept that it will be hard. And…

I accept that fight.

Enjoy what you do.