Before midnight on 4/12. I lay in bed, soundly asleep. The clock hits midnight. I sit straight up in bed in a cold sweat shaking slightly, my pupils dilating. Into the cold night I whisper, “it’s 4/13”.
Hello! These blogs are so super helpful, and yours is here just in time for me to begin writing my story! So thank you so much for your help in advance. I'm writing a story about a soldier that was captured during war. Part of the story is him struggling to trust his therapist enough to open up about what happened. During this time where he refuses to talk to anyone, how would PTSD affect his everyday actions, his thoughts, etc.? Thank you so much. I really appreciate it. Have a great weekend!!!