Bowling alleys are sheer Hell when you have PTSD. Constant unpredictable movement everywhere. The noise alone is unbearable; loud music, guys getting loudly competitive and the challenge that creates in my body, balls rolling down lanes, pins crashing…
Today was my wife’s birthday and I took the family bowling to celebrate. We had fun. I wasn’t armed. No tactical knives, tactical flashlights, or tactical pens, on my un-tactical self. No head on a swivel. No hypervigilance. This would have been impossible two years ago.
I can live like normal people. Which means my family can, too. It’s a wonderful blessing. A blessing I worked really fucking hard for. You can have it, too. Do work. Never quit. You got this.