Friday, 10 November 2017

The Ghosts of Christmas Past

...the knife dropped to the kitchen floor and skittered to a halt in the centre of the room...

"Then without warning the moment froze like the pause button had been clicked on a film I was watching and I found myself standing in the Myatts Field Estate, Camberwell 24 years in the past facing a screaming man who was holding a bloodied 12 inch carving knife to my face, I could smell his acrid breath and could feel his spittle splatter my face as he ranted incoherently , I was a Police Officer and I was there to stop him...."

This was a full blown flashback to an incident I have never talked about even to my wife and friends not then, not now but it seems right to get it out here but not everything, it was not a good day for the knife man who I arrested as I could hold my own in a bar fight in those days as he fell to the floor, the blood covered knife that was in his hand skittering to a halt in the centre of the room.

This is my curse, this is Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, it can pull me into places with no warning. This scene has been spinning around by mind for the past 48 hours, always there just out of reach like an itch you couldn't scratch.

My distraction this evening was to go to the track and try out some reps, run 150 metres, walk 50 metres and repeat until I got to 5 km. It was a great distraction for the 30 or so minutes and I enjoyed it as I finished someone shouted at me about lane infringement, I shouted back and soon I was back thinking about that incident 24 years ago, it will go soon waiting for something to replace it in a few years time.





1 comment:

  1. It’s good you got it this all written down, keep speaking about it, write about it, wear the memory out like an old faded pair of jeans until you can toss it in a cupboard, never to be haunted by it again.

    Keep coming to the track, keep doing what you are doing! X

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