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Something's wrong. I need help.

Robert Murphy, US Army 1966 - 1969, talks about when he knew he needed to get help for PTSD.

Transcript

I got home that evening.

It was a Sunday night and they had a program

on called Trapper John, M.D. and the storyline was

about a nurse that had PTSD.

And as I looked at it in my drunken state of mind, I said,

"I can't deal with this anymore."

I went and got a 12-gauge shotgun and came back

to the living room, still having the TV on, deciding that because

of my survivor guilt, my own emotional turmoil and feelings,

I would be better off not being here.

But I worked as a paramedic on an ambulance and I saw a guy

that had tried to commit suicide and he blew his face off

with a 12-gauge and I said, "This is crazy."

And I sat there thinking, "I gotta be nuts.

I fought like hell to live."

I said, "Something's wrong, I need help."

Pardon me.

I called my brother who lived here in St. Louis

and I told him, I said, "I need you to come get me.

I'm too drunk to drive."

Where he took me, they happened

to have the best treatment facility here in this region.

And I wound up being admitted through the Emergency Room

and they said, "Why are you here?"

And I said, "For you to tell me."

I said, "That's my question why am I here."

I said, "I'm either a drunk or I'm crazy,

and somebody's gotta tell me which one

so I can deal with it."

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