Currently Chasing: a Cure for PTSD

This is a story of PTSD. Post. Tramatic. Stress. Disorder.
Not that I ever thought this was something fake or made up, but I just never thougtht that I would have it. But the other day when I almost ran me and my daughter off the road I realized, I do.
Now before you freak out, let's disect this diagnoses and get to the heart of my disorder.

While I was in Afghanistan I saw quite a few things. I saw men with missing limbs and heard stories from countless people who had witnessed those awful things as they happened. I saw injured women and children and endured sometimes daily rocket attacks. I traveled in a convoy through the city of Kandahar wondering if at any moment our vehicle would roll over an IED. However, none of these experiences can be blamed as the source for my PTSD. It is simply a sound. One sound that takes me right back to the middle of that shit storm (literally.) One sound that makes me want to punch a baby.

You see, the men in Afghanistan would sometimes make a sound with thier mouths when they saw an attractive woman. (and then let's face it, toward the middle of deployment the sound would be made for any woman walking by regardless of whether she was attractive or not.) It became a Pavlov's Dog scenario every time someone would make the sound. Heads would dart around the room or area searching for the woman. It wasn't harrassing because no one ever understood the sound and how it related to the look, except for a few of us 'insiders.'

For the most part the sound was simple. It was just a click of the tongue against the roof of the mouth causing a popping noise. Much like the sound of a bubble gum pop. But after six months that sound became ... excruciating. I don't even really know why. It became more of a joke than anything else and at some point lost all of its credibility. (one too many 'cry-wolf pops' and people stop bothering to look. And pretty soon no one even cared to look anymore. But still you would hear the occassional 'POP' ring out and it would make the select few of us who knew what it was supposed to mean cringe.

Fast forward to being home from deployment and embracing everything that is daily life. I'm on my way to the airport to pick up my daughter and it is going to be an incredible reunion! I see her, we hug, we kiss, we cry, we hug, I yell at her to stop stepping on my feet, and then we kiss some more. Awesome.

We get to the car and pack everything in and she's in the back seat...things are quiet. and then out of nowhere. 'POP!' My body tenses up. The hair on my arm stands at attention. My foot presses a bit harder on the gas peddle. My vision gets a tiny bit blurred. Then I shout. What the heck is that noise! Don't ever do that again!

My daughter is stunned. She has no idea why that noise is sending me over the edge. I calm down a bit, pull the car over, and look her in the eyes and say...that is a sound from the war. Her eyes are like full moons. She says she is sorry and that is that. For her at least. But for me it still took a few seconds before I was fully ... back to normal.

So the next day we board a flight to Florida on our way to our Disney Cruise. We meet up with a friend of mine who was deployed with me, and me and my daughter and her and her daughter are all driving to the hotel. I wanted to see if I was the only one who would have a reaction to that sound.

So I tell my daughter:

"Sweetie, make that noise one more time."
She said, "Mom, you told me never to make it again."
"I know," I said. "But just once more. I want my friend to hear it."
"Well, ok," she said.

Then a slight pause, and then.

"POP!"

My friend shot me a look. I shot it right back at her and said, "I know right!?"
She said, "My heart is racing."
I said, "I know exactly how you feel."
She said, "I hope I never hear that again."

I relayed that story to my BF and he said,
"Hmmm, the sound was only made around pretty girls?"
"Yes," I said.
"Then how did you even hear it?"

He's always there with words of encouragement.