Hunter, where is it?

Supermarkets are one of the places that those who struggle with PTSD avoid as much as possible. Every now-and-then, though, it can’t be avoided. <deep sigh> Today was one of those days. I had to go and pick up some medication and while I was at it I needed to pick up a few other things. When I got home, I was asked how it was, “Were there a lot of people?” I said I didn’t know because as soon as I passed through the doors, I turned all of my attention to Hunter!

I can’t recall how many people were there. All I can remember is Hunter and me wandering through the store and I was talking out loud to Hunter. Whoever was in the store and if they noticed Hunter and me, they must have thought that I had Hunter because I was schizy. I talked to Hunter just like he was a human with me. “Where are the housewares, Hunter?” “I can’t remember where the cereal is. No, not the sugary kid’s cereal. The tasteless adult healthy stuff. Can you help me find it?”

Actually, that’s one of the ways Hunter helps me. I am focused on him, not the others around me. They might constitute a threat of some sort. Hunter just walks beside me and gives me someone to turn to when I get nervous. Probably most folks can think of nothing much more benign than a supermarket. For PTSD survivors supermarkets are major obstacles to overcome. Go to the store at a very early time or a very late hour. I’ll bet most of the folks in there have PTSD. Just think! You could probably start a group therapy session on every aisle!

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