PTSD?

Well, the computer has been down more than it has been up lately.  I have been frustrated, annoyed, and now scared to even use it for fear of breaking it again.  Argh.  As a result, there are many fun things to catch up and, probably, some honest thoughts to share.  But, for the moment, this is what's on my mind (or in my gut). 

Six years ago Hurricane Katrina ravaged the southern portion of the US and every news story was about the death, destruction, sadness, etc.  I was barely pregnant with Seth and so very sick - puking many times a day for weeks and weeks.  Ick. I didn't realize how much these events were linked in my head (gut?). 

But now as part of the country braces for a possible hurricane, everytime I see a hurricane related news story, I can feel that same sick feeling in my stomach.  I am not (I repeat am NOT) pregnant.  And I do not feel sick to the point of actually puking.  It's just very very odd to me that just a news story can cause those sorts of feelings.

I am not minimizing 'real' post traumatic stress whatsoever.  Actually, as long as I'm sharing...

When I worked for the prosecutor's office, one of our courtrooms was this little tiny oddly placed room.  We were all in court one day.  The judge sat at a long narrow table just one step up from everyone else.  The bailiff sat to his right and the paralegal sat immediately to his left and I was seated the next seat over, at the end of the table.  The prosecutor (not me, I was still in school) stood in front of the judge with the parties.  As we sat there we could hear glass shattering.  It's a busy building and that seemed odd but didn't directly affect us so we just went on.  Then all of a sudden there was a loud disturbance in the room next to us.  That room was accessible via a never-used door right by my chair.  There was a different door that was actually used by the public to enter our courtroom.  At that point, the prosecutor - a big guy - walked over to open the door and see what was going on next door.  From my chair by the door I had a front row seat of a handful of deputies, guns drawn, attempting to apprehend the defendent (from a different courtroom) who had just ran through a locked glass door and was attempting to throw himself out of a closed second story window. 

All that to say, for the longest time any kind of breaking glass absolutely freaked me out.  And no, neither of those stories has any point, but it's my blog - I can do that, right?  How about you?  Any PTSD you'd like to share?