I am not really sure what to write. I guess I feel a bit self conscious about trying to explain to others how I feel so I guess the best way is to tell "my story".
On the 6th of April 2000 at 2.28pm my brother was killed in a truck accident. He was a semi driver who was on his way back from Queensland when a car crossed over to the wrong side of the road hitting him head on. His truck burst into flames and he was killed. The police informed my mother of his death at 8.30 pm that night. I was contacted by the police when they arrived at my mothers house.
I have always been considered as the "strong one" in the family so I was expected to cope. The police explained to me that my brother could not be identified as he had been incinerated so I would have to find some other way of formally identifying him. I liased with police and coroners over the following days and finally convinced them of my brothers identity. I had my brothers body transported back to Sydney and went about arranging his funeral. This was the most heartbreaking experience of my life as my brother and I were very close and I felt like I was in a nightmare and was unable to wake from it. It was made even more difficuilt by the fact that I am a funeral director and I was determined that no one else was going to touch or look after my brother other than myself and a few trusted staff members.
I managed to keep sane through the whole ordeal or so I thought at the time because the police had assured me that my brother had been killed instantly and had not suffered at all. I received the police brief and post mortem report about 6 weeks after the accident. My brother had screamed for about 5 minutes for someone to get him out of his truck as he was trapped. No one at the scene of the accident was able to help him. The police sent me photos of the accident scene. You would have to see them to believe them.
I flew up to the accident scene and the police drove me to where he was killed. The vegetation was still completely burnt out and the ground was still soaked with diesel fuel 2 months after the accident. My brothers belongings were still spread over the ground. No bastard had even bothered to pick up his things. A man appeared from across the road while I was on my hands and knees scraping through the dirt looking for my brothers foot bones as the post mortem report said his feet were missing. He asked me if I was the truck drivers girlfriend and would I like to see some photos. This scum had stood across the road on the day my brother was trapped and had taken photos of him burning from every angle possible and then came back the next day and took more photos as they recovered what was left of his truck. This guy lives across the road and instead of grabbing a hose to help put the fire out he grabbed his camera. So much for my faith in my fellow man!
Anyway for the past 5 years I have experienced nightmares, I can even smell the smoke and hear my brother screaming. I no longer have any friends. My marriage has ended in divorce. I have no contact with any other family members with the exception of my 2 children who are the only things that keep me alive. I cannot drive anywhere like an expressway or over a bridge or on any road that I am likely to get trapped on. I dont let my children out of my sight because I am terrified that something will happen to them or me for that fact. I spend more time at home than I do at work. I am not compassionate anymore and in my job I need to be. The truth is I just don't care about anything anymore.
I have been to see a psychiatrist and have been diagnosed as having PTSD. I thought this only happened to returned veterans. Am I really going insane because most days I feel like I am. My apologies for writing so much but there are so many details that I have not mentioned that make the whole situation so much worse. I just really need to know if there is light at the end of the tunnel because at the moment its really looking pretty dark.
On the 6th of April 2000 at 2.28pm my brother was killed in a truck accident. He was a semi driver who was on his way back from Queensland when a car crossed over to the wrong side of the road hitting him head on. His truck burst into flames and he was killed. The police informed my mother of his death at 8.30 pm that night. I was contacted by the police when they arrived at my mothers house.
I have always been considered as the "strong one" in the family so I was expected to cope. The police explained to me that my brother could not be identified as he had been incinerated so I would have to find some other way of formally identifying him. I liased with police and coroners over the following days and finally convinced them of my brothers identity. I had my brothers body transported back to Sydney and went about arranging his funeral. This was the most heartbreaking experience of my life as my brother and I were very close and I felt like I was in a nightmare and was unable to wake from it. It was made even more difficuilt by the fact that I am a funeral director and I was determined that no one else was going to touch or look after my brother other than myself and a few trusted staff members.
I managed to keep sane through the whole ordeal or so I thought at the time because the police had assured me that my brother had been killed instantly and had not suffered at all. I received the police brief and post mortem report about 6 weeks after the accident. My brother had screamed for about 5 minutes for someone to get him out of his truck as he was trapped. No one at the scene of the accident was able to help him. The police sent me photos of the accident scene. You would have to see them to believe them.
I flew up to the accident scene and the police drove me to where he was killed. The vegetation was still completely burnt out and the ground was still soaked with diesel fuel 2 months after the accident. My brothers belongings were still spread over the ground. No bastard had even bothered to pick up his things. A man appeared from across the road while I was on my hands and knees scraping through the dirt looking for my brothers foot bones as the post mortem report said his feet were missing. He asked me if I was the truck drivers girlfriend and would I like to see some photos. This scum had stood across the road on the day my brother was trapped and had taken photos of him burning from every angle possible and then came back the next day and took more photos as they recovered what was left of his truck. This guy lives across the road and instead of grabbing a hose to help put the fire out he grabbed his camera. So much for my faith in my fellow man!
Anyway for the past 5 years I have experienced nightmares, I can even smell the smoke and hear my brother screaming. I no longer have any friends. My marriage has ended in divorce. I have no contact with any other family members with the exception of my 2 children who are the only things that keep me alive. I cannot drive anywhere like an expressway or over a bridge or on any road that I am likely to get trapped on. I dont let my children out of my sight because I am terrified that something will happen to them or me for that fact. I spend more time at home than I do at work. I am not compassionate anymore and in my job I need to be. The truth is I just don't care about anything anymore.
I have been to see a psychiatrist and have been diagnosed as having PTSD. I thought this only happened to returned veterans. Am I really going insane because most days I feel like I am. My apologies for writing so much but there are so many details that I have not mentioned that make the whole situation so much worse. I just really need to know if there is light at the end of the tunnel because at the moment its really looking pretty dark.