Now this blog post isn’t going to be like any other I have posted, This isn’t about images or beautiful walks I have taken, This blog is about the secret half of me, this is about the hidden points of my life, this one is about the fear I hold in my life. Yes this is about me.
I’m very sorry to say I am a sufferer of Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. This has now led to PAD (Panic Anxiety disorder) and sadly Clinical depression.
These disorders are not chemical problems in my brain, they are problems with my behavior. Tablets may help but will not cure me, only I can cure myself of these problems.
When did they start I hear you say. Well when I was a young man, a boy in fact, I had a fear of being shouted at, this didn’t stop me getting into trouble tho. My parents didn’t need to give me a clout. a quick sharp shout in my direction would bring me to tears. this sadly has carried on into my adult years, you may think that I am just a softy. that is not the case, I have been in far more trouble then my siblings.
All this fear was the made even more troublesome in my life just over 16 year ago. I was Stabbed.
Two men walking into my flat (when I lived in Oldham) and tried to rob and assault my friend and flat mate. I stepped in to stop it. They smashed me in my face and and shoved a knife between my ribs, in to my right lung.
I remember standing up thinking “the bastards have broke my nose” My friend was screaming. He told me I had been stabbed, I told him I was OK and set off walking into the living room. I then collapsed.
Some of my memories from that evening may be a little distorted, but one memory is very sure and true to me. My then current girlfriend asked me for my parents phone number, Now I was lied on the floor bleeding to death. and I couldn’t remember a phone number I have known since being a child. I laid there reciting my own mobile number.
Then the Paramedic’s and police arrived.
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