Hypervigilant: A Short Story

It’s the same oak tree every day, some leaves are pale as paper, some dark as pitch; some rich as chocolate, and some poor thin shreds, there life on the tree almost ending as there about to fall, each year around this time of year they cover the woodland floor. From clasped grey buds bursting into bronze, opening into this year’s glorious spring and deepening into one of the best summer’s green before colouring in autumn and falling precisely here. It’s a simple life, before I deployed, I was very laid-back, an easy-going guy. I joked around a lot it was simple as well. Now, the smallest thing could trigger an outburst. I view everything as a life-or-death situation. I get annoyed and angry when I’m 5 minutes late for an appointment, that’s
However as I processed my memories, I wondered if something was wrong with me. In truth, my family and my wife knew before I did. I thought I was fine. But over time, I had become irritable and paranoid. I was always on edge and alert my doctors said I was hypervigilant. At first, I thought that being a perfectionist and hypervigilant was what got a job done, that’s what can save your life in war. In war, you’re always on the job, you’re always watching, feeling and smelling. At war we were taught to such out horror we call it survival mode. Your mind and body go numb. I don’t recoil from the horror; instead, you make jokes about it . Now, being back home, I thought it would be different but I’m still in survival mode. I block my memories by keeping a busy life. I’ll work 10- to 12-hour days. I do this because it helps me forget, it helps me shut out my war. But it’s still with me. My war’s always with me, but now my families not. My wife said I was always fighting, but how could I not the war is on my home front. I did often ask myself, why I was still fighting. I’m safe now, aren’t I? I always feel like, I could be attacked from all or any angle, almost undetectably. The enemy is out there, but I don’t know when or from where an attack will