I have been told several times over the past two years I suffer from PSTD. I have never agreed to this diagnosis. I do not feel worthy of it. When I think of this condition I think of soldiers. People who witnessed horrific events. 
My tragedy is mine. I can recall very clearly the fire trucks, police and ambulances passing me, heading to him, only to pull up to it myself. Sitting on the side of the road of my husbands car accident while they look for his body only to find it eight feet deep in muddy water. Kneeling beside his lifeless body in the hospital praying to God while they worked on him. Knowing he was already gone. Laying next to that same shell of a body pleading with him to wake up. These are my memories. They have mold me into this new person I am today. 

I remember for months after the accident anytime an emergency vehicle would pass me it would take my breath away and cause total panic inside me. Most of the time leading to tears. I have learned how to deal with this anxiety and keep it to myself. 
I also have a huge fear of people I love leaving me. I know it’s only a matter of time. Every relationship will end and if not in disagreement then most certainly in death. I acknowledge this is not a rational thought. So again I keep it to myself. 
Only a few hours at the hospital once they pronounced him dead a nurse offered me “something to help”. She wanted me to take a anxiety pill of some kind. I couldn’t believe she offered that to me. I needed to feel emotions right now and she just wanted to numb me. 

So tonight I received a FaceTime call from my boyfriend (still so weird to say). He had just witnessed a fatal motorcycle accident. He was directly behind the bike. He stopped and called 911. He spoke to another person at the scene who said no way the guy made it he head was cracked into two. I could not keep the panic to myself I started crying hysterically I was back at Joeys accident, I was sitting in the hospital looking at all the blood that had come from his head. I was not in control. He immediately realized what he had said and what was happening to me. I had to end the call. 

So what do we do. If we are faced with moments in life that scar us so deep it only takes a sound or a story to take us right back. How do we regain normal thought process and heal? Do we see a therapist and take medicine for years possibly the rest of our lives? I don’t want that option. I saw several therapist after Joeys death none seemed to help. No one had the answers I wanted. So I don’t know what the solution is. These are my scars, anxiety is now part of my life. 

Some of us find pure peace in life and some learn to see the light through the storm. I wonder if I will ever have peace again or if I ever have. I wonder if I will ever find a solution to my own demons or just learn to live with them. And I wonder how this will effect the rest of my life and those who choose to be in it.