Post-traumatic stress syndrome
Missing YouPost-traumatic stress syndrome is the diagnosis attached to Jessica Mastriani’s inability to sleep after her wartime work in Afghanistan, but its consequences reach beyond a list of symptoms: it interrupts the dream-based ability through which she found missing people, separates her from the life she had before deployment, and complicates her understanding of what it means to have returned. The narrative links an individual condition to the work demanded of a seventeen-year-old, the people she could not save, and the difficulty of resuming ordinary life after witnessing war firsthand.
Wartime Work and the Return Home
Jessica’s trauma follows a period in which she was not merely watching distant news reports about the war. She was in Afghanistan, directing people to caves where missing individuals might be found. At first she attempted to do this from home and later from Washington, but searchers sometimes returned without finding anyone. Jessica remained sure that her power was right, and eventually asked to be sent to the war zone so she could show them where to look. That work made the conflict immediate: she saw the war live and took part in the effort to locate people within it.
The outcomes of those searches were not uniform. Some people Jessica found appeared in the news; others remained secret. Some were inaccessible, hidden deep in the mountains, while others were monitored rather than reached. Some were dead. Jessica says that she found them all, but the statement describes the reach of her ability, not a guarantee that everyone could be rescued. The difference between locating people and being able to reach them gives the work a painful limit: knowing where someone is does not necessarily change what can be done for them.
The return from deployment does not restore the ordinary world Jessica expected. Her nightmares begin, she can no longer sleep, and without dreams she can no longer find anyone. The text identifies the condition as post-traumatic stress syndrome, or PTSS. It also places the diagnosis against the scale of what she experienced: she was young, and had seen children screaming at her not to take their father, explosions, and people being blown up. The difficulty of coming home is presented not as a failure to appreciate peace, but as the consequence of having been changed by sights and responsibilities that ordinary routines cannot simply erase.
Symptoms, Treatment, and Interrupted Ability
Sleep is the hinge between Jessica’s trauma and her lost power. Her ability to locate people operates through dreams; when she cannot sleep, she cannot dream, and when she cannot dream, she cannot find anyone. The change therefore affects both her personal life and the function that had made her useful to the search effort. The narrative does not treat these as separate problems: the loss of the ability is one concrete consequence of the sleeplessness, while the power’s absence also makes the change in Jessica harder to dismiss as an invisible injury.
The people trying to help her use several approaches. Jessica is given drugs and therapy, and she spends a week beside a large pool in Dubai. None of these measures succeeds in restoring her sleep at that point. Eventually, those responsible for her care send her home in the hope that she may improve once things are normal again. But home is not a simple cure. Jessica first says that everything has changed, then revises the claim: perhaps it is she who has changed. That correction makes the return more complicated than a contrast between a damaged war zone and an undamaged home. The place is familiar, but she no longer meets it as the same person.
Disagreement over What Is Broken
Rob Wilkins gives voice to an interpretation Jessica does not want to accept. He acknowledges the pressure she endured and the extraordinary effort involved in returning to a life resembling normalcy. He then tells her that she came back broken, arguing that the government used her until she had nothing more to give and released her afterward. His concern is not only that she can no longer find people; he believes the experience damaged Jessica herself and that she keeps loved ones too far away to help.
Jessica initially experiences his judgment as an insult. She tells herself that anger is the reason she cannot take it in, and rejects the label of broken. Yet her own account already distinguishes between being changed and being wholly undone. She accepts that she is messed up after a year of scarcely sleeping because closing her eyes brings back things she does not want to hear or see. At the same time, she disputes Rob’s claim that she has refused all help. Working with Ruth on an inner-city arts program and having Mike Mastriani live with the family are, in her understanding, forms of support. She has begun to sleep again, most nights through the night. The progress is real, but it does not settle the argument over what recovery means.
Recovery and the Meaning of Loss
Jessica’s first defense is to locate the damage in the power: perhaps the part of her that could find people is broken, but not Jessica herself. That distinction protects her sense of identity from being reduced to an ability that has disappeared. It also shows why the loss cannot be treated as the whole story. She is beginning to sleep more often, is involved in work with Ruth, and accepts the practical presence of Mike Mastriani; these details complicate any account in which she is simply cut off from other people or incapable of improvement.
Later, while considering whether to accompany Rob to find Hannah Snyder, Jessica revisits his assessment. She recognizes that he may be right that some part of her returned from overseas different, and allows that broken might describe that part. Crucially, she adds that the changed part is not only the part that knew how to find people in her sleep. The recognition broadens the meaning of the condition beyond the supernatural ability, without making the ability’s loss irrelevant. Across these scenes, post-traumatic stress syndrome names an ongoing struggle: Jessica must live with the interruption of her dreams and with an altered relationship to herself, while accepting that support and gradual improvement can coexist with lasting change.