Understanding PTSD

Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, commonly known as PTSD, is a mental health condition triggered by experiencing or witnessing a traumatic event. It’s a complex disorder that can affect anyone, regardless of age, gender, or background. Symptoms of PTSD can include flashbacks, severe anxiety, uncontrollable thoughts about the event, and emotional numbness. It can significantly impact a person's daily life, making it difficult to function or feel safe. For me, PTSD has become an unwelcome companion since the loss of my daughter, Sana. The trauma of watching her slip away, the helplessness of seeing her in palliative care, and the overwhelming grief that followed have all contributed to my personal experience with PTSD. Every day is a battle. Simple tasks that once brought joy now feel insurmountable. I find myself sitting in front of the TV, trying to watch a show on Netflix or Hulu, only to realize that hours have passed and I haven’t absorbed a single thing. It’s not that the shows aren’t interesting; it’s that my mind is trapped in a constant state of distraction and numbness. Concentrating on anything feels impossible. Worse yet, any show that features hospitals is entirely off-limits.Just seeing a hospital room or medical equipment on screen triggers memories so painful that I gasp, overwhelmed by the resurgence of trauma. PTSD feels like an electric current coursing through my body whenever I am triggered by memories of the trauma. It's as if my brain freezes at a specific point, bringing back those painful memories and making me relive every moment second by second. Grief and PTSD go hand in hand, each amplifying the other's intensity. Conversations with friends who have also experienced profound loss have been both comforting and validating. When we talked about our shared symptoms and struggles, I realized that what I’m going through is, unfortunately, a normal response to such immense grief. Knowing that others feel the same way doesn't take away the pain, but it does provide a sense of understanding and connection. PTSD manifests differently for everyone. For me, it includes sleepless nights filled with intrusive thoughts and vivid nightmares. It’s the sudden, overwhelming waves of sadness that hit without warning. It’s the constant feeling of guilt, wondering if I did enough for Sana, if I could have changed the outcome. These thoughts loop endlessly, making it hard to find peace. Moving to Chicago to be closer to our son is a step towards seeking some semblance of normalcy. Yet, I’m painfully aware that no physical location can truly heal the wounds left by losing Sana. The numbness and lack of joy I feel are symptoms of PTSD, a reminder that my mind is still in survival mode, trying to process the trauma. I also find it nearly impossible to visit hospitals now. The mere thought of walking through those sterile halls triggers intense memories, causing a physical reaction that makes it hard to breathe. Sana was always a beacon of resilience and strength, often telling us, "I am okay," even in the hardest times. Her courage was unwavering, a testament to her spirit. Living with PTSD means accepting that the road to healing is long and winding. It’s about finding small moments of peace, whether in a routine, a supportive conversation, or a quiet moment of reflection. It’s about allowing myself to feel the pain, the anger, and the sorrow without judgment.I’ve learned that it’s okay to not be okay. That grief and trauma don’t follow a set timeline, and that seeking help is a sign of strength, not weakness. Therapy, support groups, and open conversations with loved ones have been crucial in navigating this journey. They remind me that I’m not alone and that healing, though slow, is possible. For anyone else experiencing PTSD, know that it’s okay to seek help, to lean on others, and to take each day as it comes. Together, we can find strength in our shared experiences and hope in the promise of healing. Grief and PTSD are real, and acknowledging them is the first step toward managing their impact on our lives.