I suffer from Post-Traumatic Stress (PTS). However, you will never hear me attach the word “disorder” to my condition. I absolutely refuse to use that label, and I believe it is time for society to stop using it as well. Words have power, and the medical terminology we currently use—Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder—is fundamentally flawed.
To label this condition a “disorder” suggests that there is something inherently wrong with the person, a malfunction of their character or their biology. This is false. PTS is not a disorder; it is an injury.
When we look at the mechanics of trauma, it becomes clear that this is no different than any physical injury a human body can sustain. Whether the damage occurs on a battlefield with our military troops, during street combat involving our law enforcement officers, the carnage experienced by our firefighters and emergency medical professionals, or amidst the wreckage of a natural disaster suffered by our neighbors, the mechanism is the same. An external force has impacted the individual, leaving a wound. We do not tell a soldier with a shrapnel wound that they have a “bleeding disorder”; we say they are injured. The psychological and neurological impact of trauma should be treated with the same logic.
The distinction between “disorder” and “injury” is not just semantics; it changes the entire approach to recovery. A disorder implies a permanent state of being, something that manages you. An injury, however, implies a potential for healing. Because PTS is an injury, it can be treated. With the right care, rehabilitation, and time, the wound can close. While the scar may remain, the condition can be overcome or brought to a level that is no longer debilitating. We must view the mind capable of healing just as we view the bone capable of knitting back together.
However, no serious injury heals in isolation. If you know someone who is dealing with the weight of PTS, your role is vital. The “demons” that manifest as a result of this injury—the flashbacks, the anxiety, the despair—are formidable adversaries that need to be fought. But they should never be fought alone.
We must be the friends who stand beside the injured to slay these demons with them. We cannot allow our loved ones to face the darkness in solitude. We must fight for them, and with them. We 
must fight with the ferocity and urgency of a battlefield medic, fighting like their lives depend on it. Because, in the end, their lives often do.