The Ghost

I am being haunted. I have a ghost who hangs over my left shoulder. He is a long black figure with big eyes and jagged teeth. He gnaws away at my head and threatens me daily. Some times he does nothing except exists over my shoulder. Other times he creeps around in dark corners and shadows and lurks in the unknown. The one thing he does often - the one thing I hate most - he holds a gun to my head. He will aim that gun all day if he has to and if someone slams a door or drops something BAM, the gun goes off and I am dead for half a second.

I've named him: The Shooter.

On January 6th, 2017 I was traveling on vacation. I was to go on a cruise that was a Christmas/Anniversary present from my Father-in-law. It was free, we only had to pay for the flight. I was so excited. We nearly missed our connecting flight from Atlanta to Fort Lauderdale but we ran fast and made it with no time to spare. Our bag, unfortunately, did not make the flight in time and we had to wait down in the baggage claim for it to arrive. During this time, a traveler named Estebon Santiago decided to carry out an attack that the FBI officially classified as a terrorist attack. Many people were injured, 5 people died. 1 person died right next to me. I will never forget.

I will not go into more detail than that in this entry. This entry is not about the event itself, but rather the haunting I am experiencing from my ghost: PTSD. I was officially diagnosed with Acute Stress Disorder (ASD) on January 20th. It's been about two months since that diagnoses - it's officially PTSD.

The first two weeks following the incident, the ghost had a body. He would follow me, stalk me, come up behind me and put me back on the floor of the airport. I couldn't stop him. He was strong, he was physical (it seemed so in my head) and he never stopped trying to get me. He would stick his gun to my head and I could literally feel the heat and pressure from it. He would press it harder and harder until BAM it went off and I was dead again.

After he shot the gun, he would leave me temporarily to mourn - and mourn I did. I have never felt such a mourning in my life. The pain in my chest, the tears that would pour, the thoughts that wouldn't leave me be. I would mourn for hours and then lock myself up some place I felt safe... Not many places did feel safe.

After a while my ghost decided he needed to step it up a notch. He decided to try possession. He would sneak in the shadows and make an alarming noise; that would put my body in a state of shock. He used my shock to sneak into my mind and make me travel through time. Where I was, what I was doing, none of it was real. It was all a trick and I am at the airport about to die. I would try to see my house, but I would see the airport carpet and The Shooter's shoes stalking me. I would hear the shots, clear as day. I knew I was still there; that my life after the airport was a coping mechanism. I was about to die. The bullet was entering my brain.

These moments last an hour, minimum.

After receiving help and trying to deal with it, I was determined to get better. I had to get better. I wanted my life back! I had to find ways to exorcise this ghost from my life. I would try going to the grocery store and he would whisper in my ears: Any minute I will walk in as a stranger and kill everyone in this store. You better find the exits or a good hiding spot or you will die. Then he clutches my lungs and squeezes the breath out of them. He takes his fine teeth and starts gnawing at my heart. I lose control and have a panic attack.

These moments last 20 minutes, minimum.

I started medication immediately after my diagnosis. It was increased last week for now my ASD is now PTSD and my ghost, again, has decided to try something new to keep me under his control.

There was a storm last week. I loved storms. The thunder, the rain, the lightening. It's always so exciting, or rather it was. The ghost seized this opportunity to try and really get to me. He went outside and grew into the storm. As the thunder rolled closer to me, his shots did too. His shots seemed more powerful and I was paralyzed in a hysterical fear. I wasn't in the airport or in the past or in a store. I was in my bed and I was going to die. The Shooter was the Thunder and the Thunder was going to kill me. I no longer had thoughts at the time. No thoughts could enter or exit my brain, just pure panic and fear. I couldn't stop crying. I couldn't breath.

This moment lasted two hours.

The moments are getting fewer but they are still there. I have at least one crying fit a day. There may have been 1 or 2 days where I didn't cry, but that's it. I cry every day at least once a day. I can't stop. My heart hurts and I am still terrified.

As I get up in the morning, the ghost latches on me. I brush my teeth and stare my reflection down. Like a vampire, he doesn't have a reflection, but I can feel him sucking the life out of me. He follows me around all day. He knows the medication works to keep me calm, so he tries to fight against it. I feel defeated, and then take another pill.

This ghost is something I will live with. Probably forever. I have accepted this. It's only been 2 months but I know, I feel, he will always be there. Maybe one day he will not have any control over me. Maybe he will just be an observer, reminding me of how easily life can be snatched away. Until then, I just have to find a way to keep him at bay and to live through his attacks, one moment at a time.