Probably so about the movies. My Father never deployed and we never got to sit down and talk over drinks because my Mom drove me halfway across the
country with a Stepdad who ended up being a complete douche. Anyways, I was told that he says he was given '___' somehow on an Army base in the
Midwest, "someone slipped it in his drink at a bar" and he freaked out. Thought a werewolf was following or chasing him and was put in a padded room.
Mid to late 60's? Decades later I'd find out and read about MKULTRA. He sent me a photo sitting at a table with a shotgun, rifle, pistol, knives and
simple survival gear with an open pantry with stacked Campbell's with "Y2K ready" written on the back.
Stepdad was a retired Master Sergeant Air Force and did deploy but spent most of his time at a base in Thailand. He did maintenance and repair on
helicopters? Had some stories but we didn't talk much in detail. Nothing gruesome or scary.
He did say he was seeing a Vietnamese girl and was "going to get married" (I guess so he could take her with him. No idea of her age but let's just
say I wouldn't be surprised if she was a wee bit too young) but her family or extended family didn't like it and there were death threats made if he
saw her again and he was stationed elsewhere or sent home.
As for me, the only traumas I've had were spending 43 days in a cell with my medication at the time for anxiety stopped even though I had the
prescription brought to the jail and ironically my Doctor at the time happened to also be the jail Doctor. It was a controlled substance thus it
"wasn't fair to the other inmates" so I had a couple of seizures in a jumpsuit with the crotch seam completely ripped when it was given to me so I was
free as a bird, on a steel bunk and a few hours of twitchy sleep for the first 2 weeks. The Doctor didn't care because like most of them he had no
idea what he was prescribing, that it'd do that or the extent of the withdrawal, if one even existed.
Finding my Mother deceased and doing CPR was pretty traumatic because she was my best friend and messed me up for a couple of years. Finding a
Stepdad deceased a couple of years ago wasn't as bad because I only knew him from my teens onward.
I'm terribly edgy at times, sleep light, and assume most people I encounter are innately selfish to a fault even if well concealed, predatory and will
try to take advantage of me, make me miserable. Varying levels of discomfort, anxiety, and paranoia in public. At the grocery store, I feel like every
other person is taking notice of me and thinking there's something odd about me, making a judgement that I'm under the influence of something,
mentally ill, or gay. I don't claim PTSD though.
edit on 3/31/2019 by r0xor because: (no reason given)