Dear Readers, Thank you for continuing Elizibeth's journey down a life path she chose, not one dictated by her parents and family tradition.
I will be introducing the insidious disease of PTSD in this chapter. It does not discriminate, and while first responders and our Defence Personnel are at high risk of being struck down by PTSD, anyone exposed to trauma in their lifetime can be affected. The symptoms change from person to person. However, one consistent thing is when the victim hits the wall or rock bottom, their world becomes very dark and difficult to navigate. Patience, support from family and friends, and medical intervention will help those affected find peace and reach the light at the end of the tunnel.
The crash Elizebeth experiences in this chapter is based on my real-life experience. I have not included all the details, just enough to expose the reader to the pain and perceived humiliation our service men and women and first responders can experience.
If your loved ones or friends are suffering, don't be afraid to ask if they are OK. If you can find the strength to ask this simple question, you might save the life of someone dear to you.
It was a lovely spring morning, the birds were out and the first blossoms perfumed the air with their fragrance. I shared the joy of the moment with Grandma Beth as we sat on the veranda swing of her home. Growing up, I loved my annual holidays with this magnificent woman. She has a brilliant sense of humour, a sharp wit and personal integrity I hoped one day to replicate. We marvelled at the birds and flowers that surrounded us and laughed at the small jokes we shared. It was so relaxing sitting with her, just enjoying the world go by, it was my safe happy place that I was always reluctant to leave.
How are you doing sweetheart? She asked, I'm OK, just a bit tired It's been a long few years and I guess life has just caught up with me. She seemed to ponder my response before asking, "When are you going to stop running from your past and let go of your guilt? You do know you have nothing to be ashamed of?" I gave my answer some thought before telling her my troubles are complex and go back a long way. She was always the straight shooter, something I am proud to have gotten from her, she told me it wasn't my fault. What my father did is his shame to own and live with, not mine, and don't worry, dear, he will be dealt with when he finally gets here.
When I asked how she found out, she smiled and avoided answering by asking another question. What is really bothering you, sweetheart? I stared out into the garden for a long time before I could provide an answer.
I am still determining my direction. My rush and need to be perfect in life have begun to confuse me; I have even forgotten how to love. After all these years of fighting, I no longer know what my destiny is supposed to look like.
She held me to her chest for a long time, when you forgive yourself, the rest will work itself out. As for your destiny, what your future looks like will depend wholly on your achievements and mistakes, nobody can take that from you. You have all the building blocks of life, how you put them together is up to you, how you put them together is your destiny.
Her words struck a chord in me, and I felt a little relief flow through my heart.
We sat for a long time just watching the world go by, I was enjoying the peace I always found when I spent time with my grandma. Eventually I broke our silence, asking if she would be OK with me staying for a while.
You do know you can't stay? You have to go back. I knew she was right, but I didn't want to let go of her. She leaned over and hugged me tight before kissing me on the cheek. She told me I was doing fine and destined for great things. She let go of my hand and told me it was time. Don't worry, dear; we will see you again. I was sad when I looked at her smile, but turned and walked down the stairs and into her garden.
The sound of beeping machines seemed to infest my brain as my dreams seemed to take form around me. At first I was able to recognise shadows moving around me. These shadows began to morph into people I knew. I made out my sister Julie and best friend Bella holding my hands. Both were smiling but their features looked haggard. I think I saw my mother sitting next to me, but when I saw what looked like my father, I began to panic. I tried to speak and move but could not do either. My limbs felt like they were made of cement, while my head seemed to have a rock concert going in full swing. I tried to sit up and escape my bonds when a lady dressed in white came to my side. My panic slowly subsided as I slipped back into my dream-filled darkness.
Each time I regained consciousness, I was able to focus more on my surreal surroundings. The incessant beeping was always there but so was Bella. Occasionally she was with people in medical scrubs and other times Julie and my parents were at her side.
At first, sheer panic and anxiety preceded my return to the safety of darkness and dreams. Time seemed irrelevant as I struggled to make sense of this strange reality. Eventually, I escaped my weird, drug-induced slumber and woke to the early morning sunlight filling my room. Bella was asleep in a chair while a nurse looked at the medical equipment beside my bed. She said hello when she noticed I was awake and asked if I would like a drink of water. My voice worked enough to give a weak yes in response to her question.
My brain seemed full of fog as I tried to make sense of my surroundings; the smells, medical machines, and even the clean sheets added to my confusion. I worked out that I was in a hospital, but how I got there remained a mystery. I last remember sitting in a truck heading to Ukraine's capital for a meeting. Then, a bright light seemed to hit me, and then nothing.
