I wrote this during a period of my life of intense personal sadness and darkness. I, along with so many others, suffer from PTSD. A life changing illness and yes, it is an illness. Though the way some people carry on one would be forgiven for thinking that it is a Contagious Disease that must only be spoken of behind closed doors. Hopefully by sharing my words and thoughts I will in some small way bring the subject of Depression and in particular PTSD, out of the shadows and into the light of open and honest discussion.

1. 2015
Blair Stuart
Stuart Media Services
8/6/2015
I awoke as if from a Dream

2. These words I share.
Some poetry, some prose.
That is just the way it goes.
Words of love,
Sorrow, loss and pain.
Do not read them with any disdain.

3. I have a little something I would like to share with
you.
Don't worry my friends, it's not contagious, although the way
some people carry on, one would be forgiven for thinking that
it is a terrible communicable disease.
Never in my wildest imagining did I, for one moment, think
that I would ever suffer from PTSD.
Nope, that happened to weaker men and women, not to the
likes of me.
Or so I thought. Now I see that it more often than not happens
to those who are amongst the strongest mentally.
In my particular case, this was brought about by the callous
and deliberate actions of a number of soulless individuals who
hold Senior Managementpositions in the Victorian State

4. GovernmentPrison Service {H.M.P.S} at Corrections Victoria’s
Dame Phyllis Frost Centre. A Maximum Security, Women's
Correctional Facility in Deer Park Victoria Australia.
These individuals,
 General Manager,
 Governors’,
 Chiefs
 Senior Prison Officers
 Prison Officers
All conspired to frame me for an act that I did not commit.
They openly lied, fabricated dispositions and made scandalous
claims and accusationsof a most heinousnature.
Their intention was to damage my reputation, discredit me and
destroy my career. This orchestrated and scurrilous attack was

5. made not only on my Reputation but more importantly on my
Integrity, the very cornerstone of my belief system.
I was most vulnerable in that area, for I had no training in how
to countertheir attack. As a result my world began to slowly
and inexorably crumble around me
.
Bastards and Dogs, may they rot in Hell, every last one of
them. I had my day in Court and they were found wanting.
Whilst a moral victory was mine...it was not enough.
The meltdown that followed, cost me dearly. I lost a career, my
Lover, my livelihood, my will to live, but more importantly my
eldest Daughter.

6. During that period of my life and in the years since, I have
fought my Demons on my own. My Daughterdoes not seem to
understand just how much that took out of me and how close to
the edge I really was and still am.
On the plus side, I did find out who my true friends were and
there were only a few, the others deserted me like rats desert a
sinking ship. Some have since come crawling back seeking to
be my friend again... I tell them plainly that I have no time for
Rats and their entreaties are wasted on my ears.
When PTSD hits, it hits you hard, right between the eyes and
the result of that hit is life altering, for there is no recovery, no
going back to the person you were before.

7. All one can hope for is to learn to live with it and strive to
remain as stable as possible. For it is akin to having a dark
cloud over you day in, day out.
Every day is a struggle and it is difficult at times just to do the
very basic routine day to day things.
There are those days when I am somewhat able to cope and
then there are the other days, which I call "Black Dog" days,
when an overwhelming sadness closes in around me and my
world descends into a place of darkness and pain.
It is in this place of darkness, a place that I know so very well,
that I face my Demons. There is no fear for me here, though
that has not always been the case. Now there is only a sense of
anticipation as I sit with Death at my board, smiling to myself
as I challenge herto release me from the Demons that hauntmy
mind.

8. Whilst it is a release that I both want and seek, I have thus far
lacked the strength and courage to take my own life and I feel
no shame at having stared Death in the face only to choose life
instead.
Oftentimes when I am at my lowest ebb, some of my friends
mistakenly think that I am simply wallowing in self pity and
that I have jumped aboard the so called "Pity Train".
They are so far from the truth, for it is apparent that they
understand nothing of Depression, simply labeling it as self
pity and something that happens to others, never to them.
I do not hold their viewpoints against them, for it is a truth
that in order to understand Depression and in particular PTSD
and the impact they have on the sufferer, their family and
friends, one must have experienced it first hand,there is no

9. other way.
As for me, each day I now countas a blessing for I have no
tomorrow. I dream of death, long for Death and await her
coming.
There is no fear, only a calmness and innerpeace in the
knowledge that my pain and internal torment will soon enough
come to pass.
Yes, I have no doubt that one day the "Black Dog" will win and
I will take my own life.
I no longer take any antidepressant medication or mood
stabilizers, as I do not want to spend my days drugged to the
eyeballs. I have chosen instead to fight, for as long as I am able,
the PTSD and depression using my own innerstrength.
It is a tough and hard road to travel and one on which I will,
one day, stumble, fall and never get back up.

10. Each passing day just gets harder and harder to cope with as I
grow weary of this life, of the masks I wear in front of my
family and friends.
It is harder to live, easier to die.
In my nightly dance with her, Death's overtures are becoming
more seductive, more inviting than anything life has on the
table.
Perhaps one day soon, I will succumb to her call.
So it is today, like yesterday, that my Dance with Death will
continue unabated.
For today I awoke as if from a Terrible Dream for Death had once
again walked the corridors of my mind.

11. I wrote this during a period of my life of intense personal
sadness and darkness.
I, along with so many others, suffer from PTSD. A life
changing illness and yes, it is an illness. Though the way some
people carry on one would be forgiven for thinking that it is a
Contagious Disease that must only be spoken of behind closed
doors. Hopefully by sharing my words and thoughtsI will in
some small way bring the subject of Depression and in
particular PTSD, out of the shadows and into the light of open
and honest discussion.