The Day I Died

“The day I went missing was the day I died.” ~ Oliver

After my own return from overseas when I was diagnosed with PTSD, I visited with a variety of counselors.  They told me time and time again at the end of our sessions, “Well, don’t forget, that at least you survived.”  The point is, the point they do not see, the point Oliver makes in this quote…is that I/he didn’t survive.  My body did yes.  But my soul, my person, is different.  The old me is gone, dead, and whether this be for good or for bad…I am different.  Oliver has drastically changed from who he was before.   He has gained some things and he has lost some things, he is still sorting out a lot…but no matter what stance you take on how he has changed that fact is he has changed.  The day he went missing was the day the old Oliver died.  That Oliver will never return.  The difficulty he faces now (and many of us face) is discovering and deciding who the new Oliver is and will be.

(an essay on this type of life shattering identity change: Romanticizing Adversity)

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