He tried to make love to her. . . . until he was defeated by sadness, or shame, and pushed her away. . . . But darkness was not good; he needed the rectangle of light from the street, because without it he felt trapped again in the abyss of the timeless ninety centimeters of his cell, fermenting in his own excrement, delirious . . . he knew that he was coming apart, as he had so often before, and he gave up the struggle, releasing his last hold on the present, letting himself plunge down the endless precipice. He felt the crusted straps on his ankles and wrists, the brutal charge, the torn tendons, the insulting voices demanding names, the unforgettable screams of Ana, tortured beside him, and of the others, hanging by their arms in the courtyard.From "Our Secret," by Isabelle AllendeWhen he came home [from Vietnam] though, Henry was very different, and I'll say this: the change was no good. You could hardly expect him to change for the better, I know. But he was quiet, so quiet, and never comfortable sitting still anywhere but always up and moving around. . . . now you couldn't get him to laugh, or when he did it was more the sound of a man choking, a sound that stopped up the throats of other people around him. They got to leaving him alone most of the time, and I didn't blame them. It was a fact: Henry was jumpy and mean.From "The Red Convertible," by Louise Erdrich
THE PTSD CONCEPTExposure to trauma has been a risk of the human experience throughout human history. Emotional reactions to extreme stress have been noted by historians and literary authors for 4,000 years (e.g., Figley, 1993;Veith, 1965 ). Homer's Ulysses (and probably Achilles) and Shakespeare's Henry I I