PTSD - Does It Ever Go Away?

Once upon a time -

My husband served Queen and country

He said it was his duty

To protect other people’s liberty.

Nothing wrong in that -

Safeguarding civilians from terror

Unleashed by terroristic behavior

He’s the protectorate’s selfless protector.

And off he went with mates -

To the land of camels, sand and sun

Patrolling towns, seeking terror groups as one

No doubt, heavy encounters were no fun.

As once upon a time -

No Internet, no Skype, no FaceTime or FB

Connecting to home was through military

So receiving letters to and fro merited a crikey.

My husband’s letters were few -

Writing mostly about gap time in the garrison

Playing footie, rugby, whatever with troop mates in the station

It made me wonder, why no anecdote about the action?

When at last he came home for good -

I was thankful, no body parts were missing

Just a few scars all over him from bullets grazing

He was lucky, I was told, his ducks were perfect timing.

Reverting head-on to civilian life -

His further business training was a breeze

Immersion in corporate work showed him to be a whiz

Life was mostly euphoric, moving up and up was a bliss.

My tale from once upon a time -

Is not an enchantment, nor a trapping veil

On what follows after years on the military trail

Rather, to shine a light on an aspect that was a fail.

The after-life of this protector -

Was awash with ordinariness during most of the day

Could be hectic, could be boring but there was love and play

Yet when deep darkness fell, something compelling was at bay.

My husband’s dreams were infrequent -

Sporadic they might be but they were nightmarish

He screeched and yelled, his ferocious voice brutish

He kicked, punched, head-butted in a manner so fiendish.

PTSD – does it, will it, ever end?

Is protecting other people’s safety

Worth suffering this hidden illness, honestly?

I’ll stop these senseless wars in a jiffy, if up to me!

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First published here.

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