P.T.S.D. is Marvel's Venom!
Carnage and all!
I was struggling with the symptoms of Post-traumatic stress disorder, battling how to get a grip on the nightmares, flashbacks, intrusive thoughts, and bouts of uncontrollable anger. I was unaware of the jail where I was trapped for so long. I honestly thought I was okay. Nothing was wrong with me. At best, I thought I had these personality traits because of my military conditioning.
It took a year and a half of my wife telling me something was wrong for me to go and get some help finally. The journey was long, arduous, and it downright kicked my ass. Then, approximately a year into my mental health recovery, my therapist, a social worker, a marine, had the same name as me ironically up and left. So he moved from California to Washington state. This felt like my heart got ripped out of my chest. I would see him every week, sometimes twice a week. These therapy sessions were my lifeline. He told me exactly what to say and how to say it in every social situation. His leaving was the end of me, so I thought. I was able to find another therapist who, to this day, I have the utmost respect for. This man is a marine, and he knew how to keep me accountable and steady! This man is the definition of the marine corps SEMPER FI!
BUT…
Then I got another blow! I finally received my V.A. award letter for my…
