What PTSD looked like in my day-to-day — and how ‘barely’ kept me alive.

The vets at the VA hospital used to ask me, “How you doing?”

“Ducky,” I’d say.

They’d look at me sideways. “What the hell is ducky?”

“Cool and calm on the surface. Paddling like hell underneath.”

One guy laughed. “Yeah. We’re all ducky.”