PTSD and Me


It’s a beautiful day in a suburban neighborhood.


Three people are walking down three different, but essentially identical, streets on a sunny day in the suburbs. The sun is shining. The birds are singing. The trees are blowing in the light breeze. The flowers are blooming. Somewhere in the distance, a dog barks. A child’s giggles and squeaks of playground equipment can be heard. A lawnmower is running somewhere. By all accounts, it’s a glorious, beautiful day.

Yet, each person is going to have an extremely different perspective of their walk and will have a completely different feeling while walking, because: statistically speaking, each of these three people has a different probability of being blown up by a bomb while they walk down their street.

Let’s talk about PTSD.


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