PTSD and Anxiety Are Real And There Is Nothing to Be Embarrassed About
There are things in life that change you forever.
Some pain doesn’t fade. It settles in your body, your mind, your spirit and you learn to live around it.
My son died in my arms due to gun violence.
There is no preparing for that. There is no “moving on” from that. There is only learning how to breathe again after something inside you has been taken.
So let me say this clearly for myself and for anyone reading:
PTSD and anxiety are real.
And there is nothing to be embarrassed about.
What PTSD Really Means
Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD) is not just a term people throw around. It’s a real mental health condition that develops after experiencing or witnessing something traumatic something life-altering.
It can look like:
Flashbacks that pull you right back into the moment
Avoidance of anything that reminds you of the pain
Emotional numbness or overwhelming sadness
Anxiety that shows up without warning
Feeling constantly on edge, like something is about to happen
Sometimes it starts immediately. Sometimes it takes months or years.
But when it shows up, it shows up.
My Truth
I stayed silent for a long time.
Not because I didn’t feel anything but because I felt too much.
Shootings. Arguments. Fighting. Chaos. Confusion.
All of it triggers something deep inside me. And when it does, I isolate. I pull back. I protect myself the only way I know how.
That’s not weakness.
That’s survival.
Over time, I’ve developed my own system of coping what works for me. It may not look like everyone else’s healing, but it’s mine. And it keeps me here.
This Is My Talk Therapy
Writing is my therapy.
Speaking is my therapy.
Sharing is my therapy.
I know I’m not alone because many of you follow my journey not for perfection, but for honesty. I choose to be transparent, even when it’s uncomfortable, because silence nearly took me under.
What makes this journey harder isn’t the trauma itself it’s the responses from people who have never experienced it.
The insensitive comments.
The lack of understanding.
The casual dismissal of real pain.
That’s what makes my experience feel even more isolating at times.
Grief, Memory, and Choice
I made a decision a personal one.
I buried certain feelings about my son because I want him to have peace.
But let me be clear:
Choosing peace does not mean forgetting.
I will never forget the good times.
I will never erase his existence.
I will never allow his life to be reduced to something trivial or turned into entertainment.
Some things are sacred.
Some memories deserve respect.
Strength Looks Different Now
Strength for me doesn’t look like pushing through everything without emotion.
Strength looks like:
Sleeping through the night when I can
Acknowledging panic without letting it control me
Choosing peace over chaos
Walking away from environments that trigger me
Allowing myself to heal at my own pace
And most importantly
Getting stronger one day at a time, as long as God allows me another day.
A Final Thought
I’ve learned something watching the world:
Some people laugh at trauma because they’ve never had to sit in it.
I don’t judge them but I do recognize the difference.
Because when you’ve lived through something real, something that shakes your entire existence you don’t laugh.
You learn compassion.
You learn silence.
You learn respect.
To anyone reading this who is struggling:
You are not broken.
You are not weak.
You are responding to something that mattered.
And you are not alone.
I’m still here.
I’m still healing.
And I’m still choosing peace.