Trigger Warning

Today, July 1st, is my birthday. 65 years old I am now. I got to reflecting on the trauma that happened 50 years ago that brought me to DSPTSD in the first place.

As a missionary kid abroad, I was nearly killed by a death squad 50 years ago at 15. I'm alive because the bullets in the pistol held to my temple jammed twice and didn't fire. Both times when the officer holding it squeezed the trigger the gun failed to blow my brains out. I was ready to die for sure the second time he pulled the trigger.

I managed not to whimper nor cry. Yet I did still wet my pants in a gush of liquid fear flowing out from deep inside of me.  That was the moment of my PTSD trauma when the body spoke though the mind was numb.

It seems that my physical demonstration of terror was enough to satisfy the officer that he had done his job. Rather than kill me he had nearly literally scared me to death. I learned the meaning of dark humor when I heard him laugh at the sight of my wet pants. Killing me would have spread state terror around on my block. The purpose was to spread state terror among the citizenry, not interrogation. 

That's why the dictatorship tortured a quota of its country's own citizens block by block. After 12 years when democracy returned their city maps on which they kept their torture tally were found in their military barracks.  They said that killing citizens sent a message once for a day.  This dictatorship wanted to spread its terror for a decade, though. Torturing rather than just killing was deliberate. Releasing citizens back to their homes meant the dictatorship's message was told and retold daily to other citizens by word of mouth for 12 years.  On Netflix the film A Twelve Year Night shows what that looked like. 

Who got tortured and why didn't matter. What mattered was that neighbors should see the scars and shudder, saying to themselves "there but for the grace of God go I." This, then, is what I privately think about on my birthdays.

I have happy birthdays but not exactly just how the folks that wish me a happy birthday might imagine. I'm just happy to still be breathing at all. The rest is gravy. Thanks for helping me enjoy the gravy now.  :-)