Met an old friend on Saturday for coffee. He had been in the seminary with me. It was good to talk to him. Most people can’t understand what happened to us in there. You always felt like you were being forced to stay. Told him I have PTSD. Told him I have dreams I’m still stuck there, feeling like I have to stay, though I want to leave. I forget I have a son in those dreams. It’s terrifying. He has two daughters now. He told me he has the dreams too. He’s the second who told me he has them. Before I wake up there’s always like a sharp pain, a stinging, like my mind is going to blow up inside of my head; and then I realize my son is alive and well, and sleeping somewhere not far away from me.
Many nights I cannot sleep but when I do.
Took me 7 years to get out; but I know I never really will.
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