Friday, June 10, 2011

straight to the point.

I’m different from you. I have been my entire life. It’s no longer something I try to fight nor is it something I try to change. 
The sky is blue, the grass is green, I have PTSD.

PTSD, Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, comes in all types of sizes and shapes. Mine is chronic. For the rest of my life, this is as easy as it gets, and I’m ok with that. I have no other choice. The sun comes out during the day, the moon comes out at night, my brain works differently from yours.These are just the facts. It’s as simple as it gets.

I know what it means to have PTSD, to be me. I know what sets me apart and for the most part, I mostly understand what it’s like to be you, a “normal” person, but do you know what it’s like to be me?

In a mix of maddness over the years, I’ve slowly begun to realize that I’m not like the rest of the world. So I did what any normal human being that wants to fit in with this thing called the “human race” would do, I started keeping it all to myself. Over the years I learned my differences by either listening to other people talk, maybe asking some questions when I’d feel brave enough, and unfortunatley by just saying that wrong thing that makes people look at you with a puzzled look.
I’ve come to understand that “they” won’t understand when their only response to a problem I may have is an oblivious look on their face while they mutter “Just get over it.”
Oh, get over it. I wasn’t aware such things were so simple or perhaps I would’ve tried that a long time ago.