Page 730 - Total War on PTSD

“We are the sky, and anxiety and depression are but clouds that pass through us.” -
Prince Ea
Courtenay: Shortly after joining the military...or maybe even way before...I never gave up when I took something on. I would sit in my high chair, or later on at the dining room table, and would fight battles against my parents with my food. When in the chair, I would consume things like peas one at a time, making meals last way longer than they needed to. When I was old enough to sit at the table and was fed something I didn't like, I would either feed the offending tidbits to our Saint Bernard Poncho or I would reach directly behind me when no one was looking and push the offending food through the heating vent grates. This worked pretty well with foods that tended to dry up without an offending smell...but not so well otherwise. When the vent started to stink, in colder months when the furnace was running, that was when the rotten food would be discovered and the offending party identified.
Eventually, my seat was strategically relocated, at which point I learned to make creative use of my napkin, making it look like I was wiping my face when in reality I was spitting out something I didn't want to eat. As soon as I was allowed up I would make a beeline for the trashcan to empty out the contents of my napkin, which in those days were cloth...not paper.
Rolling the years by to when I was much older, I didn't know I had problems with PTSD until they became overwhelming. Shortly after my return from Afghanistan I attended a Navy Legal Officer training course, and I found myself sitting in a stuffy classroom holding my breath.
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