My T has told me, many times, that this is never going to go away. That some parts of the PTSD will never leave me--I've just had them for too long, they've become part of me and can't be undone. Every time I nod, and I understand--intellectually.

But some part of me really believes that no, someday I am going to wake up and be like everybody else. I'm not going to be afraid of being touched, and I'm not going to jump ten miles when there's a loud noise, and I'm not going to get flashbacks any more.

And then something sets me off, and I have a little storm of these awful memories, and it's like a kick in the teeth: I'm never going to escape from this. It's not fair.

I'm not whining, I'm really not. It's just frustrating. How will I know when I'm as better as I'm going to get?