In 2000 at the age of 42 I was committed by the court to a psych ward of a hospital because I was determined to be a danger to myself by way of suicide. I had been molested as a boy by a pedophile, beaten bloody by both parents weekly in a home with bars on the windows to keep me from escaping the blows. Then I lived through 6 years of combat, up so close that I was in a car hit by a bomb.

The nightmares, flashbacks, panic attacks, depressions, dissociated numbness, confusion, self-doubt and self-hatred followed. Then came years of meds until my kidneys gave out. Sincere and desperate therapy week after week for years speaking unspeakable things no on should have to repeat. Broken relationships with partners unwilling to be close to my pain. Relationships with more mad abusers because I had no self esteem for picking wisely who to be with.

After my divorce in 2000 in midlife and my decision after leaving the hospital for suicidal ideations, I decided to fight back. In 2003 I took a psychology class and read a textbook in it that claimed we who have lived through abuse can be victims then survivors then thrivers.

I decided to test this idea out in my own life. I've spent years as a survivor, and it's been good. I was a victim for many years, and ended up with people as abusive as my parents had been. So graduation to survivor was a really good step up. No more entering into relationships with abusers.

Thriving, though? That seemed like a hope for heaven, maybe. Perhaps not to be for me in the reality of this world. But I still gave it a try. One thing I did to push harder at it was join here 2 years ago, and keep a promise to myself to participate every day, rain or shine.

I felt it today: happiness. I've worked for it for years, and today I got it. I sat back at my desk at work from 11:45am to noon and basked in it for 15 minutes. 15 minutes of pure, unadulterated happiness, joy of hard work validated, at odds with no one, at peace with my God and myself.

My frenemy boss that you all have helped me with in the last month, had just stopped me in the hall and told me not to worry about her comment that I was "polarizing" my students. And she actually reached out and patted me on the arm saying job well done with my latest difficult student.

And I helped a student counseling her on the train back from a getaway trip for the weekend last night. I gave her a ride her home after arrival back in my home town. No funny stuff, just giving of my own time to a student after work. And I helped a troubled student who came out to me last Thursday.

I remembered to go to church at the Sunday and thank God I had the faith to believe in doing good things like this. I cried quietly in the back of the church in relief that I found myself avoiding bitterness at the abuse and loss I've suffered in this life at the hands of others and by my own fault. I'm glad I chose to take the chance that goodness could be done in this world despite all the lies and ugliness, and that I could be thrive and be happy, for however long it lasted or didn't last.

I was happy today, for 15 whole minutes. I clocked it so I could report it accurately. It was worth the years it took to get there. I look forward to being happy again, regardless of the fact that it might take years again.

So can a PTSD person be happy? Not all the time, and not for a long time in my case, and it might not last long enough for everybody's idea of whether it's worth it. But I've got wicked, wicked complex PTSD and still have flashbacks every day. Yet I can say in answer to my question: yes, we people with PTSD can actually be happy. It is possible. It may not be enough, but it is possible. I did it today from 11:45am to noon.