PTSD is a very real thing that isn't limited to combat vets. I was abused by my parents (and family and church group by extension as they stood by and did nothing) for 20 years in a variety of ways. Forced social isolation (parents forbade me from ever going out, practically locking me in my bedroom except for school and mealtime), mental and verbal abuse, visual abuse (my first memory was of my father smashing my older brother's face; parents fought violently, often ending with my mom in a pool of blood somewhere in the house), my mother's constant encouraging my father to beat us. Someone I trusted in the midst of that abuse tried to kill me after raping me.

I get really apprehensive if I don't have my back to the wall, and I don't trust anybody very easily. When I do start to open up and trust someone, some little voice in my head sets me right again and I rebuild my barriers and blockades.

I have PTSD bouts during all major holidays. I become filled with pure rage, confusion, anger . . . but most of all, sadness. Most of the time, though, it's under control and my pain remains unexposed.

I went to counseling in college, and I was diagnosed with PTSD. I learned to accept my past and accept me. I'm usually ok to talk and share stories about my abuse, but there is more I still do not remember, and I suspect these are the worst.

I refuse to connect with my family because of the pain and the hurt that is there.

When I went away to college, I met friends there who spoke very positively of their families. I grew so bitter, envious, and resentful of them. It wasn't until many years passed where I shifted from being envious to being happy they didn't suffer my fate.