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shadowchaser

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Reading over my personal diary (pen and paper)I was reminded of something that happened one month ago. I still don't know how to feel about it. I'm flattered but don't think I deserve it.

I was downtown and half in and half out of a flashback. I knew where I was and what I was doing but images and sounds kept overlaying everything. When this happens I go for my comfort spots. Areas I've known for years and people I'm use to and are use to me. In the downtown area that means the convenience store. Even when it is crowded the pet food isle is almost always empty.

As I stood there staring at a bag of dog food trying to let my mind slow Spirit (still in training at this time) alerts me to someone standing behind me. I froze and stopped breathing for a moment. After my heart stopped racing I turned to see who was there to find a young woman. She was looking at me with almost an expression of awe. The words that came out of her mouth surprised me to say the least.

"You were hurt when you were younger too."

It wasn't a question more a statement of fact. All I could do was nod. Next thing I know her arms are around me and she is sobbing. That was all it took for the flashback I'd been fighting to come on full. I don't remember a thing she was saying to me but I know she was talking. Listening to it was almost like hearing a tv in the background. You know it's happening and you get the idea of what is being said but you don't really hear the words. Her father was horrible. She had just moved out and was scared. When I was me again I patted her on the back. I repeated out loud what I normally tell myself after a flashback. I think I was saying it to her as much as me.

"Your not a bad person you just had a bad past. Breath in and breath out."

She looked up at me. Her face was so red from the tears. She nodded and asked if I even heard what she had said. I didn't lie to her. I told her about my condition and that I was fighting off a flashback when she hugged me. She was upset with herself and asked if that is why I was shaking now. I confirmed and told her it was ok. If she wasn't the one to push it someone else would have been. I told her about the local service that was helping me before I moved out of their coverage area and offered to walk her over there. She was so happy that someone was willing to help that she almost started crying again. On the walk there we talked about the weather, dogs, people we saw walking on the street. I told her about stupid little things that happen with me on a regular basis like finding my phone in the freezer and got her laughing.

When we got there she hugged me one last time and thanked me for the help. She even gave me my own theme song which made me laugh. "I Will Survive"

I haven't' seen her again but I hope she is doing well.
 
What a truly amazing, humbling story, it's hard to know what to say, other than to conclude that yes, you were where you were meant to be, yes, the random encounters we have with some members of the human race can sometimes restore faith in humanity, and yes, sometimes from the worst horror comes the greatest good. Maybe the tecdhnical term is "post traumatic growth", that seems to be the buzz phrase thesedays. But I think really it's just about gaining a whole new perspective on the world, learning to understand what really matters and what doesn't, believing in the goodness of people and coming to understand that sometimes it's the little things, both given and received, that mean the most.

Thanks for sharing that story. I have a couple of my own, both as giver and receiver, and you made me reflect on them this morning.

Maddog
 
If you want to share them your more than welcome to put them on this thread. Seams to be a good place to put them. I would love to hear other experiences people have had with the little stuff. It's so easy to focus on the bad. For example her throwing me into the flashback. I had problems focusing on that for a time when it first happened. I was actually very upset with her. But looking back on it I'm more worried about her. I know she is getting the help because I was there with her as she filled out the paper work.

Please if people are willing do share the better stories.
 
That was an amazing experience you shared with us. I have never had anything like that happen to me.Thank you for sharing it with us, it was inspirational. I hope others have similar stories to share.
 
So do I. I would love to hear them. It reminds something I heard once.

Some people walk on green grass. The ground is soft to their feet and they live without worry. Their path is laid out before them with the sun shining down to light the way.

Others walk on the sharper stones. They can't find a place to step without pain rising up. So for them they must strive harder to reach the end of their path with only the stars as their guide.

I know it's kinda confusing but to me it makes reason. I watch people who never had anything truly bad happen to them and listen to their words. It hurts that I can't get them to understand and also that I can't understand them. So when little moments happen in life where either side is able to help another in even a small way. I treasure it.
 
2 years ago, soon after the worst of the PTSD symptoms had started to take hold of my life, I was travelling home late one Friday night on the train from a work function. I'd had a couple of drinks (necessary to overcome my social anxiety enough to allow me to attend) and was very, very exhausted as a result of having had very little sleep throughout the week. The combination of alcohol and exhaustion saw me uncharacteristically fall asleep on the train, and subsequently jolt back to reality with something a cross between a nightmare and a flashback, the intensity of which I hadn't previously experienced.

All I really know is that I awoke with the sensation of being choked and the very real conviction that something terrible was about to happen to me, and in a frantic daze of disorientated panic, I leapt from the train at what I thought (or perhaps wasn't even capable of thinking about) was my stop.

Needless to say it wasn't. I had no idea where I was, was still greatly disorientated and caught up in the throws of my clinging flashback, was alone on a deserted railway platform late at night and was, quite simply, terrified. I was huddled on the ground on the platform clinging to my guide dog, shivering, crying and unable to think about anything other than the terror in my head and what I felt sure was impending doom.

A train going the opposite direction pulled in to the other platform and I cowered even more on the ground as I heard someone step off, pause and then approach me.

She told me her name was Diana, commented on what a lovely (though cold) night it was, wearily exclaimed what a long day at work she'd had, and casually took a seat on the ground beside me, as though it was the most normal and natural thing in the world to sit down on the ground on a railway platform beside a shivering and distressed person cuddling a dog. She didn't ask me what was wrong, attempt to touch or approach me, speak to me condascendingly or make comment on my state or the reason for my being there at all. She began to casually engage me in conversation, seemingly unbothered when I was, at first, unable to respond, and continuing unperturbed until I could gradually begin to ground myself and interact with her. We talked about her work, about football, about her dog, her husband and the evident talent of the graffiti artist who'd been tagging the walls of the railway building we were sitting near.

Eventually I was able to pluck up the courage and calmness to ask her which station we were at, and again, she responded without any apparent confusion as to why I would be asking such a bizarre question.

She sat on the ground, in the freezing cold, at close to midnight with me, for the full half hour it took for my train to come along. Only as it approached did she ask me if I would be ok to get home, or would I like her to give me a lift? I said no, that I would be fine, and by that stage, I felt almost sure that I would be.

As the train pulled in and she helped me to the nearest door, she suddenly and spontaneously gave me a hug, a hug that felt genuine, warm and connecting, and quietly said "take care of yourself, ok?" as I stepped onto the train.

I made it home safe, thanks to a stranger named Diana who I never saw again, could barely even speak enough to thank, but who I know loves football, dogs and a man named Keith who was her high school sweetheart. She showed me a simple human kindness, empathy, compassion and genuine goodness that were without judgment or pretense, and for which she sought no thanks or recognition. I will never forget the kindness of that stranger who helped me through a dark, cold, terrifying night, and who reminded me when I needed it most of the goodness of people, and the difference that simple acts of kindness can make in the world and in the lives of others.

I think of it often as I catch the train home late at night, and hope that wherever she is out there, she knows what a difference she made to me that night.

Maddog
 
I remember when I was volunteering in Tanzania, I was at a bar on the seafront in Dar-es-Salaam one night, having a beer. My money had run out a few days earlier and I'd been fishing for my dinner and trading war stories and amusing anecdotes for booze with various travellers, but now it was my last day and I'd sold my mosquito net to an American girl who'd forgotten hers for enough money for a couple of bottles of Tusker.

I was on my second bottle, without a penny to my name, having not eaten since my birthday the day before, when a middle-aged white woman sat down further along the bar. I nodded to her and carried on drinking. Next thing I know, she comes and sits next to me, orders a meal from the barman, then turns to me and asks my name. I tell her, we shake hands and she asks how I came to be there. So, I told her and we started a long and fairly in-depth conversation what motivates people to do things like charity work and the nature of suffering and what one can do about it. She told me she ran an orphanage further inland but came down to the cities every so often to talk to officials about one thing or another.

Then her meal came. She ordered two beers, then slid the meal across to me and told me to eat it.It was a hamburger and chips and was by far the best thing I'd had to eat for days. I thanked her and pointed out that I wasn't able to pay her or even buy her a drink.

She just stood up, said 'You don't need to; it's what we do. It's been nice meeting you.' and walked off into the dark.

I aim one day to go back, find that orphanage and present them with the largest amount of money it's within my capability to provide.

I don't forget people who help me when I need it.
 
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