I do, and I don't think I've done anything particular nasty, but I feel guilty about not having as much time for friends, having a hard time paying attention and listening sometimes (especially if the topic is disturbing), I have to be really strict about sleep and how much responsibility I take on, so I feel guilty for not doing enough, being anti-social, etc. I feel guilty for not being well, and for using the country's resources to get better. I feel guilty for needing help at all, and not being able to get better on my own, and for the fact that there's a waiting list and not everyone gets the help they need.

That said, I also feel enormously grateful, and am absolutely intent to give back to individuals and for society/the system for helping me get through this. I'm already working on two projects to help establish resource guides/policies. I hope I'm a more empathic person as a result of this, and I hope that if someone comes to me with a similar condition I'll know how to listen and where to direct them. I try to alleviate my guilt for costing the country money, with the fact that I will be able to give more when I'm well. I will be a better member of this society, and I am so thankful to have encountered doctors who said, "no, you shouldn't have to live with this, we will help you through it."

I sometimes feel guilty and apologize for not being "normal," especially to my husband. We haven't even been married a year, and because of the PTSD, I'm so different from the girl he was dating. I feel like this isn't what he signed on for, having a wife so out of balance, like he married Dr. Jekyll and now got Ms. Hyde instead.

However, I try to temper this feeling with remembering that it's not my fault. It was his dog that bit me, and he ignored my fears before it happened...I think he feels guilty too, like he was in part the cause of my PTSD for his failure to hear me.

I also feel guilty regarding my friends, since I've mostly shut them out. I know some of them think it's personal and that I'm pointedly ignoring them, and that's so not the case.

There is a constant reminder of my rage in the form of a hole in the master bath door.