Over the next couple days, I got to know everyone in the room. I connected with everyone, but the war veterans took me in as their own. I found out that even though I've never witnessed war, what I've gone through has had the same effect on me as it has on them, and our experiences at home have basically been the same. 

It was interesting to talk with them. We started finishing each others' sentences when we talked about the things PTSD has done to us, and it turns out we share the same sense of dark/immature humor. Hell, we even enjoy similar hobbies of extreme sports and writing to help cope with our struggles. A veteran named Chad rode dirtbikes growing up, and got back into motocross as a way to cope with his trauma. And Neil still does a lot of martial arts and weight lifting to vent out his pain. 

I connected with Jay the most, because my mom had talked to him a little before the first class started, and told him about me. Jay explained that PTSD really shouldn't be a stigma to hide from the world. Obviously, it shouldn't be something I share within the first five minutes of meeting someone, but it shouldn't be something I believe I struggle with alone, or be afraid to ask for help with. The truth is, I'm not alone. The PTSD I have isn't much different from the PTSD a soldier has. Sure, it was caused by different circumstances, but Jay basically wrapped it up by saying, "You're just a soldier who was born into a lifelong war... and you're my hero... and a hero to many others." 

I broke eye-contact with him and sank my head down onto my hands, which rested on my knees. I knew Jay was being sincere, and he knew that as uncomfortable as it made me, I knew it was true. I am a hero to many, and all the memories of people coming up to me who heard my story through my mom, just to hug me and tell me how much hope I gave them came flooding back. He patted me on the back as I wiped the sweat off my face and miraculously swallowed back my tears, and then he pulled out a business card. On the card, which I still carry around in my wallet, he wrote his cell phone number along with a note that reads, "You are NEVER alone. Call me ANYTIME. I'm available 25/8."