I never thought I could justify having post traumatic stress disorder but now from the outside, after more than twenty years, I can see how it had to be this and how like a war or similar set of disasters the roots of it really were.
I had it long before arriving where I live now, but it was from doing research in Latin American cultural history this week that I understood the nature of some things that did happen here.
Thinking about violence, the violence at the origin of nation formation that is then officially forgotten and (therefore) haunts, I realized that I have been in a nation-founding war myself, in my main department, although I was a civilian and not part of the warrior elites. The more I read about the mid nineteenth century and also the early twentieth century, the more this becomes oddly clear.
The other reference is that when I arrived the entire university was under a certain kind of dictatorship against which it was unwise to speak, people said; some were against it but their identities were not revealed to one unless one was trusted. These people were called “Sandinistas” as in, “Do you think so-and-so is a Sandinista?”
I cannot believe how much recovered I am from these events and what went before them than I was, say, a year ago. It is entirely different. But this has been caused by regime change, which was not something under my control and which is also an effect of war.