4 Comments

  1. Wendy Curtis

    This was right on point and sounds exactly like how I felt as I had to let go of my son as he progressed. But the driving and leaving my home oh no I’m scared to even think about that lol. Letting go is hard because we have been going through the journey so long it’s scarey to trust that they will be safe. I know what you was taking about with the walk to the convenience store lol the showers and everything else. Only difference is my son was a man on his own who had his own life and now he is like a teenager with behavioral issues which he never had as a teenager and I’m too old for this !!!!!!!

    • help me get away from my abusive home, if only I could help him with the gaps in his miatral benefits. By that time I was so pre-disposed to being treated in this way at home and the hospital, that I was able to just freeze my emotions and follow orders. I eventually went to Afee’s and on to boot camp. I loved it and was a very happy to start a new life for myself in the hopes that I would finally be free. I did very well, I was promoted early, and was really took to Military Life and training. This was not a combat period so I dont know about what is like except for the stories I have listened to in groups for PTSD. But everything changed when I was traveling back from leave in uniform, and was approached by a man who said he was a Navy Vet. There was a long wait for my Bus to leave for my Duty Station, and he was friendly and we spent an hour or so chatting about the Military and such, and he was waiting for a bus that his Son was coming in on, and had been told that due to the weather it was running hours late. He then suggested we go and get some lunch, and after some hesitation I agreed as I still had 3-4 hours to kill before I left. Once in his car, and buckled up and restaraunt destination agreed upon we left the station, and he immediatley withdrew a knife and explained that we were NOT going to lunch. 15 hours later I escaped, in another State completley naked, and was picked up by a passing car. The Navy sent a car and two Military Police to retrieve me from the local hospital. Upon arriving at base, I was sent to the infirmary, examined, and given a bottle of valium. I went to my housing, and with my roomate gone was too scared to sleep in my room, so went into the day room, took one of the valiums as prescribed, and fell asleep. I woke up to being in the infirmary and having a tube down my throat so that my stomach could be pumped. Apparanetly some one had tried to wake me and could not, I had never taken a drug of any kind and the one dose of valium knocked me out completely. And the bottle that I was given was empty. Eventually the tests showed that in fact I had not over dosed, but not before I was placed in the Base psych ward. I was a very young naive small town girl who had been sheltered because people who abuse their children, usually keep them very isolated, I had no idea, that a bottle of valium would be stolen if left unnatended. I spoke with a psychiatrist one time, he asked me many questions and I told him the truth about my past abuse, and the hospital, and the Recruiter’s deal with me, and that in fact I had been

  2. What a beautiful peace. I am a survivor of a TBI. As I’m sure you know all too well, no TBI is the same. But there is a unique fellowship each survivor feels for another.

    I’m able to walk, and I talk pretty good. As I meet others that have had a TBI that are in a wheelchair and can barely say a ten words in thirty seconds, I never feel inpatient. I kneel by their side and put my hand on their knee and feel the bond that we both have without having to say more than ten words.

    Keep being the amazing example you are and NEVER give up and always arise with HOPE. Things get better the more time you give it. Love is the way.

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