Well, when I was little, my mom was in a mental institution and I remember getting to visit her a few times with my family. We had to go through all sorts of security, and we were supervised, but I do remember going out on short walks in the court yard (I got to meet and talk to a couple of other patience there as well) with her before we left. I can’t remember if it was a psych ward or hospital (though I want to say it was a psych hospital), but I’m pretty sure that the amount of supervision and security depended on the threat level of the individual patient. I remember the building was brown and they had the types of windows that had metal wire kind of inlaid inside the glass (keep in mind that this was about ten years ago, so I’m not entirely sure how things have changed).
I know this is a little late, but I’ve got a little PTSD story for you. When I was in Iraq a few years ago, we were mortared clockwork twice a day, every day for the first two or three months after I got there. I got really sensitive to ground vibrations because the vibrations would let you know when something got hit long before the sirens went off, and usually the stronger the vibrations, the closer the explosion, etc …. Anyway, I got good at telling when we were mortared or attacked based off the vibrations, so every time I felt even the slightest vibration, I’d get ready to have to get up, grab my riffle and do the army thing.
I made it through the deployment and got back home, thinking that everything is fine and behind me with no lasting PTSD that I could possibly think of. So, first night home, my family is watching Inception and my dad turns the volume up loud, to include the bass, and as the intro was going on, the bass caused such intense vibrations throughout the house that I freaked out on everyone and nearly started screaming at them to turn the bass off. Even though I wasn’t in a war zone anymore, I’d unconsciously conditioned myself to feel vibrations and relate them to getting ready to react to an attack. It was stupid, because I logically knew I was fine, but my body automatically defaulted to ‘get ready for an attack’ mode, and I had to leave the room. I had no control over my reaction at all.
I thought it would go away after a month or so, but it hasn’t. I can’t listen to music loud or with a whole lot of bass, I can’t be in a gym that doesn’t have a lot of shock absorbing matting because the feel of weights being dropped feels the same as the mortars, etc… they agitate me and make me feel angry almost instantly. It’s annoying. Can’t even go to a concert without wigging out a little. It’s a pretty mild case of PTSD, but PTSD isn’t always overt and in your face. It can be subtle too.
Anyway, I hope this helps. Good luck with your story! I’d be more than happy to provide you with other experiences of PTSD, if you’d like. I have a huge pool of people I work with that have been in similar/worse positions.
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