Hello! Something that I wonder about and don't see it explored a lot is certain things Clyde can't do since returning from Iraq. For example: he just can't watch movies with too much explicit violence in them, or those movies that have scarily accurate sounds of gunfire and bullets whizzing past someone's head (I've heard Saving private Ryan has unpleasantly shocked some vets with the spot on sound effects).
I know this is a much more somber topic than I like to have on the blog, but you’re right, it isn’t explored as much as it should be, and it’s just as part of his character as anything else, so please accept these headcanons.
It ain’t just movies with hyper-realistic that Clyde has to stay away from, it’s music too. So many songs nowadays have all these sorts of unexpected beats to them where outta nowhere there’s gunshots in ‘em, or sirens. It gets Clyde’s heart racin’ and not in a good way, he’s very careful about the sortsa stations he listens to on the radio. One of the reasons he sticks to so many old country singers is on account’a the softer, slower melodies. Stuff that’s too fast paced sometimes gets him all messed up.
Fireworks are a bitch and a half, as can be expected. Fourth of July is a particularly tough time for him, but so is New Year’s Eve, and what’s worse, is sometimes the neighbors a couple acres down will go shootin’ off fireworks up into the air for no damn good reason, just ‘cause they feel like it. He’ll usually put on headphones to drown out the noise, or blast the TV, but still, he can feel the vibrations of it in his chest and that can get very dicey very quickly.
He’s got a hard time with crowds, that sensation of being surrounded ain’t somethin’ he really can handle sometimes, especially if he’s in a new place, with new people. It ain’t so bad if the bar’s busy on a Saturday night, that ain’t the sorta thing that gets him anxious, it’s like going to a new event or a new city that he avoids like the plague. That familiar feelin’ of unfamiliarity is somethin’ he don’t like one bit.
He’s lucky there ain’t no beaches nearby, because the feelin’ of sand on his skin is a big sensory reminder of his time overseas. When sandy soil gets all up in his shoes or the wind carries it up into his eyes, he’s back in Iraq, and needs you to ground him immediately otherwise he’ll have an attack.
Flying is dicey for him too, he gets a lot of anxiety around airports and going to airports, from the whole mine explosion and all. He knows deep down that there ain’t no mines on the freeway going to Yeager Airport, but still, he can’t be the one drivin’ down that way just in case he gets a little too anxious behind the wheel.
There’s lots of little things that frustrate Clyde about his PTSD, and sometimes that makes him get trapped in a mental spiral about it without any external sensations triggering it. Sometimes he just gets too caught up in his survivor’s guilt, particularly around Memorial Day and Veteran’s Day, where he’ll retreat into himself, even if there ain’t nothing to separate himself from.
But you’ve learned all these things, all the little things from the scent of laundry to avoid to the foods not to cook, all things that remind him of unpleasant times. And he’s grateful for the way you try, the way you ground him and make him feel like a proper person, and not anythin’ lesser than.
