It is hard to understand what goes through the mind of a child who has the home life and diagnoses such as what Colton had. It is not that often when someone of his stature takes law enforcement on a wild goose chase for as long as he did, but it makes me wonder though, "Would he have become the Barefoot Bandit if the outcome of his home life were totally different than what is stated in news and court reports?"
When I moved to Phoenix Arizona in 1985 I never thought, in my wildest dreams, I would meet some of the people in which I did. The wide array of personalities was captivating to say the least. Many of the people who eventually became friends and acquaintances kept me on my toes when at varies social events. Two of the "social events;" I was in my teens at the time, we were at Great Skate and the Break Cue Club (Pool Hall) off of 43rd ave and Peoria. I remember great times and great people. However, what I never imagined, in a million years is what was going to happen in the early 1990s by an acquaintance I met at The Break.
First and foremost, my sympathies go out to the family & friends of Travis Alexander. So young with much life that no one will be able to continue experiencing.
By definition, PTSD is a mental health problem that some people develop after experiencing or witnessing a shocking, terrifying, or dangerous event. For the most part and what society is used to hearing is that PTSD is associated with the military. A vast majority of veterans have come home with this disorder, many have gone undiagnosed, homeless, and having to face the ramifications of PTSD on their own. Holidays such as the 4th of July have an aching affect on veterans, homeless or not, due to the loud bangs of firework celebrations. Loud sounds such as fireworks when heard by vets with PTSD will mentally send them for cover, as thought the loud sounds takes them back to when they were in battle; the load sounds from gun fire and missiles are what vets are feeling rather than logically knowing at the time they are hearing fireworks.
It is stated in nursing homes that when it rains, the residents pass in three's. I know this all too well as I worked in Nursing Homes as a CNA. My heart always went out the the families of those who felt it was their time to go. Over time, while working with said residents, I had the pleasure of not only assisting them on a daily basis but also formed a friendship with them. When it rained and I watched as my new friends take their last breath; I felt myself overcome with sadness. Although I knew my job was never done as I had other residents to care for, but it was the loss of not being able to walk into a room and bid someone good morning or walk with them down the hall to the dining room having a short conversation as to how their night might have been.
The first time I had gone on vacation to California was when I was 16 years old. My parents finally gave in due to my bugging the crap out of them to take me to Disneyland for my "Sweet 16" Birthday. Hard to believe at that time I was more interested in meeting Mickey and Minnie than going to a party and getting drunk with friends. Is what it is though and was happy to have talked my parents into taking me and thankful they had the money to do so.