An Open Letter to the Students of Marjory Stoneman Douglas High School

photo courtesy of Prixel Creative

It’s been nearly a month since February 14th, and I’m specifically choosing to refer to that day simply by its date and not what happened, not for the purpose of ignoring or diminishing what occurred that day but so that those of you who are struggling the most aren’t stressed by the words I write.

While I titled this as an open letter to the students of your high school, who the media have highlighted as the force that will finally produce the change in gun control laws that our country desperately needs, who celebrities and people of influence have praised for your courage, sharpness and articulation, truthfully this letter is not for all of you. This is for those of you who are afraid to go to sleep at night because you can’t imagine having another nightmare. This is for those of you who don’t feel like you can ever step foot in your school again. This is for those of you who feel ruled by your anxiety all the time. This is for those of you who are haunted by random flashbacks from that day. This is for those of you who might be wondering why February 14th is affecting you seemingly more than your fellow classmates and you wish it wasn’t. 

You….I’m writing this for you, and I want you to know that you will be okay.

How do I know this? I was 20 when I developed PTSD. I won’t get into my traumatic experience because you don’t need to read and be exposed to more trauma. I’m now 41, and I’m okay.

I’ve been okay since 2011, which means that I dealt with symptoms on and off for fourteen years. I have a lot of hope that you won’t suffer nearly as long as I did because our society knows a lot more about PTSD than it did back in 1997 when it started for me. As weird as this may sound, up to that point the only exposure I had about PTSD was watching Brenda Walsh develop it after being robbed on Beverly Hills, 90210. Seriously. The internet was in its infancy. There was no such thing as texting. The ability to spread information was not what it is today. Back then, people didn’t know about PTSD as much as we do today.

Today, we have so many different therapies, from counseling to riding horses to surfing to painting. There’s hiking excursions and yoga retreats. There’s connecting with others through social media and there’s MeetUp groups. And these are all designed to help not only people diagnosed with PTSD but also their family members, their friends and anyone else experiencing similar symptoms.

These resources came out of necessity, because people like me didn’t have these when we needed them. We created them ourselves. I had to find my way out of my disorder, and thankfully I did, but it didn’t have to take me fourteen years had I had the resources that are available now. It doesn’t have to be that way for you either.

With effort towards taking care of yourself as well as leaning on those who want to help you while they manage the balancing act of supporting your growing independence that comes with being your age, you can move through your symptoms. I get that it may seem like you can’t see see yourself having a day without symptoms. Right now, that’s normal. That will ease up.

As I’m hoping you can tell from my letter to you that I am here to help you, but undoubtedly I am not enough for what you need. When you are ready, there is a large community of people who understand what you’re feeling and what you’re going through. That community will help you when you are ready and will listen whenever you need to be heard. 

And we will never lose hope that your life will be amazing and created by your design, even if you can’t see it now and even if you want to run away from thinking about it.

We got you.