Sometimes... one watches a vid. On YouTube, generally, in my case... And bells start ringing, on several levels... 

The tough Aussie, son of ANZAC says... It'll be right! I'm fine! 
But then the tears start flowing at odd moments, funny, sad or no particular cause... just a memory, a sad song that isn't necessarily sad... and I ask WHY!? Why the fuck?! 

And one asks what the fuck is going on? I've never been shot at, with intent... No-one has ever really tried to kill me... But I've been VERY scared, lot's of times. Been beside a slab of explosive going FUCKING BOOM!! Had Howitzers and Tank Guns firing near me to rattle my skull... Been in domestic situations that were supressed and sublimated for many years... Been sexually abused by a "Family Friend" ...etc. 

But I still feel that "You've no excuse..." to call PTSD or Anxiety or OCD, or start crying or want to hide away in my cave... avoid people or want to vomit when I need to go out. 

Phew! Fucking hell... Basic training alone was a bit more than an eye-opener. Kapooka is PTSD in itself! 

So, I smile and laugh... and get along and continue! 
I'm alive because I made a Promise to not kill myself! 
My brother Bob drove down a country road and set a .410 shotgun to his head... and stopped his frustrated confused pain... That hurt my family SO much I promised Myself I wouldn't do it to anyone else... 

I don't know, nor will ever, know what Bob was thinking... That's an "only one man will know, and he's dead!" situation... He was a Victorian Copper... Probably, by the job, PTSD as fuck!! There's a reason... 
What hurts... and I vaguely try to change... is that he didn't talk/chat/communicate to anyone that I know of... Apparently, he wrote letters, but I've not seen them... 

I was a pall-bearer at his funeral... alongside five big burly Coppers he knew and had spoken about! ...the coffin was many inches above my short-arse shoulder... There's photos, actual light-onto-film photos of the event... Me in Service Dress, the Burly Coppers in their Best... all sombre and steady, brave for a fallen Comrade. 

The photo of choice though, is of me hugging... Him consoling, a Good Old Family Friend, The Reverend Ronald "Moffat" White... A lovely bloke! I wish that I'd kept in touch... 

...and Mum and Dad were married in the same St Pauls in Myers St. Bendigo... I don't tear-up when I see it! ...more than weekly ...sad outweighs proud! 
Without the religious bit, I essentially became of that spot! ...as an atheist, that's a bit odd, really. 

Life is generally... OK/Meh! It continues, I deal with it... 
Pete, over...