Recovering from a PTSD
Shooting Incident and
My Own Flashbacks of
Childhood Sexual Abuse

The survivors of shooting incidents are often in for struggles with PTSD or post traumatic stress disorder. My daughter and I survived a shooting incident a few years ago. Although neither of us was struck by a bullet, the incident left mental and emotional scars which, for me, took time to heal. I was plagued by flashbacks of abuse, my childhood sexual abuse.

My PTSD shooting incident occurred few years ago my twelve year old daughter and I were on vacation in Europe. As we walked down a peaceful, quiet, city street, lined with stately old townhouses, we stumbled upon, or rather, were overtaken by the kidnapping of two major drug dealers by armed thugs. In thirty seconds, or less, five or six shots rang out as one intended kidnap victim ran up the street towards us. He had a look of terror in his eyes. A few yards behind him was a gunman firing what looked like a .45 caliber Thompson sub-machine gun---fired not automatically, but one shot at a time as the victim zigged and zagged up the street towards us. One bullet struck a car parked only three feet away from me and my daughter.

With the sound of the first shot, we looked behind us to see what was happening. My daughter and I froze. My gaze narrowed to a tunnel vision, my mind carefully noted various details, mostly about the gun and the manner in which it was being fired. Oddly, the gun shots sounded like mere puffs. My mind dissociated. I thought calmly, "This is Europe. Only the police have machine guns. This man has a machine gun. He must be a policeman. Since he is wearing street clothes, he must be an undercover policeman. The man he is chasing must be a criminal." I was not consciously afraid, but I was hyper-alert.

While all this was happening, a station wagon swiftly sped past us whisking away the successfully kidnapped drug dealer and his armed captors.

When the pair running up the street came abreast of us, I realized the victim might, at any moment, turn, pull out a pistol and return fire, endangering us. I pushed my daughter to the ground as I yelled "Get Down!" I pushed her over and up against the bottom step of a townhouse, and I covered her with my body taking care to protect as much of her body and head from stray bullets as I could. This, upon reflection, was an amazing thing for me to contemplate. I had no thought for my own safety and every thought for my daughter's safety.

Moments later, the gunman, having lost his prey, doubled back to check on us. In doing so, I suspect he wondered if he had accidentally injured or killed either of us. He stood over us only a feet away. His gun was jammed. He cleared the gun, and chambered another bullet, ready to fire anew. He paused for one fateful moment and then commanded, "Stay down!" before running off. This event had a profound effect upon me. I questioned so many things in its wake. What kind of father was I? What kind of husband was I? Most importantly, what kind of man am I?

I reviewed every aspect of those few minutes in the days, weeks, and months that followed. I also re-reviewed every aspect of my own childhood as a victim of sexual abuse.

As a result of my questioning, I have gained new insights into my life.

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