I am just as rattle today as I was several years ago when, one late afternoon on May 24, 2018 we had lost my brother.

In reflection, over these past several years I have come to the realization that, although we were spoiled children, we were the product of being raised by a parent who suffered from PTSD. There are subtle, although some who know me may say very obvious, quirks in my personality, like not liking loud noises, that has helped me put the pieces of the puzzle together to understand it all a little better now.

When living day to day one does not always realize they are experiencing moments, situations or relationships that may not be a positive influence on the stability of who we become.

No abuse, in the traditional since, here. Our Angel of a mother made sure of that. She loved us dearly and spoiled us rotten which some family and friends can surely attest to.

I realize now that my father loved us dearly also in his own way and, although he drove many people a little crazy with his bravado and “I will kick ass if needed” posture, he certainly left a wake of damage behind when he really just wanted to be accepted and loved.

In hindsight I can now pinpoint some of the subtle, little goofy or really obnoxious behavior patterns he demonstrated that I can now see was PTSD. He was not officially diagnosed with PTSD until he was in his 60’s. Prior to that everyone just said, “Oh that is just Chuck”.

By the grace of God we were all blessed with the gift of our Mother, Julie, in our lives who silently bore the brunt of all the most intense and obnoxious behaviors he may have demonstrated. Many behaviors our instincts knew were there but she endured it all to include extreme jealousy while absorbing the little, the lot and protecting us along the way. As young kids we were clueless and spoiled. That was a gift of protection on her part.

Having more of the details, now as an interested aware adult, while being the only one left on the immediate family to reflect back on all these years, I spend half my time pisseded at my Dad and half my time wanting to wrap him in a hug and help him through the brutal internal battles he didn’t even know were haunting him until diagnosed with PTSD. By that time he had subtly isolated himself from many and drove everyone a little nuts even though most people liked him at the same time. They just had to take him in doses.

I now believe some of his behaviors, to include leading a double life for over 25 years, was a coping mechanism and we all, young, old ,close to him and those irritated by him kept him at arms length which allowed him to continue in patterns that may have seemed ok but were not and ultimately created stress. Stress on my brother, in particular, which added to my brother’s struggles.

So what does one do when you are the last one in your immediate family left?

On this anniversary of losing my brother, and 30 days there after my father, I am now inspired and driven to assist with making information about PTSD easier to access for anyone searching for anything about the subject of PTSD.

This website is the result of my dedication to allow all of us to share our experiences, share information and resources, therapies or really anything related to PTSD. I would like to encourage all to share your PTSD experiences to provide a sharing, a path to healing and not feel so alone. I am immensely thankful for all contributions and as a community, we can take care of each other.