25/01/2026
PTSD Called the black dog for me. Growling the word Betrayal
Not quietly. Not gently. It ripped and tor at me
It came with memories I thought I’d left behind, and a weight I didn’t think I could survive.
I got close. Too close. I was gone, i was alone
And then in the fog of the aftermath, fellow British veterans showed up—people who knew that darkness, who recognised the look, who didn’t turn away. They stood with me. They reminded me that trauma lies, and that surviving is not weakness.
PTSD nearly took my life on Wednesday.
This is because i became homeless, another trait and favor of PTSD. i turned for help from my local council, who said because my veteran service was not current, that did not count, a current blue light worker also did not count. that was just the confirmation bias the black dog needed, that meant i did not count and the black dog pounced
Still here. Because others refused to let me go. HR4K
🖤
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