I wasn't planning to write anything tonight. It's been a dull day interspersed with errands and chores. But I just saw a brief report from one of the local papers that there was a shooting about four blocks south of my school. Two thirty-year olds, one dead at the scene, one rushed to the hospital with a bullet wound to the head. He's in critical condition. The East Side of Detroit is so violent this probably has no connection with the incident at my school, but it could. It also could have repercussions, as family members and gang members try to even the score. I'm probably overreacting and nothing will happen, but who knows?
The next decision is whether or not to go to a PTSD group that the psychiatrist in charge has invited me to join. KS thinks I should, but joining groups is difficult for me in the best of times. When I think about this group, I imagine that the people in the group have suffered "real" trauma that eclipses my trivial experience. When I think about going, I feel like a fraud, like I'm trading on the experience somehow. Oh, well. I'll decide later. I wouldn't bet on my going.
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