Who We Are

                   I still remember the smell that hit me, the first day, a combination of bread, aged beef, and bleach; and as I walked in through the back doors of the restaurant, I felt terribly nervous about interacting with the General Manager. My sister had already warned me how serious he was, and to be very respectful, and always on time; I wanted to make a good impression on him. My sister took me to work since I was just a few days shy of my sixteenth birthday; she was still obligated to drive all of her younger siblings around.    She introduced me to the GM and he waved me into his office to put me in the computer system. Since he knew my sister I had not even filled out an application for the host position. So, when he asked for my identification and social security number I did not have any with me, not being informed I needed them. He laughed and s...

The next few days are a blur and I lean fully on the support from friends and family as I navigate a PTSD response I had no idea I would experience. Nightmares, leg spasms and a constant nausea are just a few of the symptoms that bombard me. The fifth day, after my television interview, I finally have a breakdown and my Husband takes the kids with him to go stay with his Dad. My dear friend Marti comes to stay with me and forces me to leave the house for the first time in almost a week. We drive to a local lake and she takes me to the dam where we stand and she tells me to breathe and let go. I watch the water pumping fiercely through the dam and I feel a release deep in my core. A strong feeling of warmth overwhelms me, and a small voice reminds me, I must press on.        I sleep better that night but still wake up in the middle of the night in a panic. I feel like I’m suffocating and have to rush out the door of my bedroom onto my pati...