I recently finished watching the second season of Daredevil on Netflix. It’s a great show, and I highly recommend it. One of the major storylines this season (spoiler alert!) is that of “the Punisher,” or Frank Castle, a war hero on trial for a brutal killing spree to avenge the death of his family.
To lessen his sentence, Castle’s lawyers want to take a PTSD (post-traumatic stress disorder) angle. However, Castle insists that he is completely of his right mind. Moreover, he doesn’t want to diminish the suffering of individuals who do, in fact, have PTSD. Although I haven’t gone on any killing sprees lately myself (except maybe of PR’s in the weight room), I can actually relate to Castle on a certain level.
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Watch this man shoot a lot of bad guys in the new season of Daredevil on Netflix.
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About a year ago, in order to end a five-year battle with uncontrolled ulcerative colitis, I underwent a proctocolectomy, or the removal of my entire colon and rectum. After a long road to recovery, I can finally say today that I’m back to my old self. The aftermath of surgery, however, was nothing short of a nightmare. Memories of my 17-day, three-part stay in the hospital continue to haunt me like a bad dream almost a year after the fact.
Like Castle in Daredevil, at the risk of trivializing others’ suffering, I don't want to attempt to attach a label to what I’m experiencing. Nevertheless, each day I wrestle with trying to reconcile the memories that are burned into my psyche in a shroud of ugly fluorescent hospital light. Maybe writing them down will help. After all, they say that can be very therapeutic. Please know that I'm not looking for pity, just catharsis.