PTSD

PTSD, or Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, is a condition which many world war and Vietnam veterans developed after seeing the atrocities of war.

I was at a Medics Curry last night. I met ND for lunch and to book the flights [which i've still not made up my mind in regards to] and then went searching for a friends flat but, alas, i couldn't find it. So i trekked from the city suburbs right back up to the centre [where i live] to have a shower. I needed a shower. I now understand why people take showers in movies are having sex, not that we had sex, but that it all gets very sticky and wet down there making washing afterwards a necessity. So i went home, showered, thought that this curry business was going to be epic, thought about giving up and not going, giving mysef an opportunity to catch up on work instead, and then thought better of it.

So, off i went, after realising how awful my favourite fairy dress looked on me when i wore it with bare legs. Never have i seen such horrific meaty monstrosities in my life. It was dreadful.

But, i arrived at the heaving curry house and immediately realised that it wasn't going to be as calm and sedentry as i had anticipated, it was going to be a rather more debauched affair. However, not quite as debauched as the first one, thank goodness. I walked in and waited i the cue to by a ticket. When i was asked how many and replied 'just one' she looked at me like i was a retard. I do have friends, and made it evidently clear by saying 'upstairs' when she was about to ask me where i'd like to sit. I don't like people who judge, especially those who judge you on silly little things like popularity. Judge me on something that matters for christ's sake.

I have a single dreadlock in my hair, coming from just behind my ear, as i thought it would be a good idea to let ND do it. It looks..like a dredlock. I feel it's a bit of a statement to have made, to have let him do, as dredlocks don't comb themselves out easily, or at all. It's all going a bit fast between he and i and i still don't know if i want to sleep with him. I'm actually incredibly scared of heterosexual sex.

But, whilst at the curry, i was sat in the middle of a very long table, long enough to seat perhaps 26/7 people, between my old PBL group and another PBL group. I was sat next to my clinical partner, a very nice, highly [and i mean highly] motivated guy who subsequently proceeded to tell me, with no preamble, that he had been diagnosed with PTSD and was in therapy because of it.

I know why he told me, i had written a note on Facebook that included the fact that i thought i might have PTSD due to the fact that i used to cut myself rather a lot but i'd never have thought that he would..be..strong enough to tell someone without feeling ashamed. It is a strange concept, why would you feel ashamed for having a condition which is out of your control, but as with a lot of psychological medicine it is intangible, making a scientifically orientated person [such as the many that study medicine] attatch less significance to it that if the condition were to be a myocardial infarction. So it was brave of him to tell me, and i suppose it was also brave of me to write that it down in my note. Admitting a weakness is never easy.

That was just a little thing which i thought was very nice.

If i fly i fly in 13 days.