Today was pretty good. It was really good I would say actually, with the exception of being very tired, hurting my back pretty back, and fighting the urge to "go back" to Iraq, as well as my childhood :-( in my mind. Anyway, I figured instead of falling asleep, I would write this while I waited to get ready to go learn how to work the sound system at the church.
A group I am a member of had a function today at a state park. Most everyone was there, which was really cool. The Doc and the rec therapist both seemed strange, seeing Shane was pretty awesome, as was his guitar and songs, and seeing everyone else was great! It was great to have someone other than the Doc and Vietnam vets to talk with. Don't get me wrong, I have NOTHING but respect for ALL vets, but talking with someone from your own generation and from the same was as you...that's a little bit easier for me to open up anyway. Plus, although we have different stories, I think Shane and I have a lot of the same charactor traits which caused us to beat the shit out of ourselves over a lot of things!
I will say that I was nervous about possible incidents with one person due to what has appeard to be a split in the group as to some information and beliefs. Also, there is a guy in group that as soon as he raises his hands and voice in anger, it just takes me back to a horrible place. So I was a little apprehensive when I first saw him there, but got over it pretty quickly. Of course we kind of inadvertently stayed away from the main group due to letting the kids go swimming, so that worked out OK in that regard.
One thing I talked about with Shane and that has been on my mind as of late is Suicide. No...I do not wish to commit suicide. However, we did talk about the memories being buried so well and then haunting you later which did happen to me regarding suicide a few years ago now. The thing that I know scares the shit out of me is: If I had the thought and the plan once, it is possible for me to get in a such a bad state mentally and that I could have the same kind of thoughts and plans. That wieghs pretty heavy on me right now!
I don't believe in suicide. I have been saying that for years. Doug trying when I was in middle school followed by others succeeding, as well as my mother's own many many attempts. It used to be, until I rememberd my own plan, that I would just talk very hateful and insulting about those who tried it, whether they succeeded or not. How humbling it was to recall that I had a plan of involving a lot a of prescription narcotics and alcohol. Nothing like an OD to fix problems right? WRONG. That night I remembered being pissed that my wife wasn't going to make it back from where she was...and I was not going to do anything with my kids there without her being home. What if they needed something or got hurt, even if it was after bedtime when I was planning on doing this. Thank God that my wife didn't make it home that night, or I wouldn't be here today. And now, knowing that I, the guy who was a complete ASSHOLE to anyone about suicide, had a plan to do it myself..that is humbling and scary.
I think now too that maybe I had been suicidal for a long time and was just in denial or calling it by different names. That's why I think I owe my wife, my few friends, and the Doc (who I think of as one of my best friends...but VA ethics and all...stupid! ). I owe my life to those who put up with me, who wouldn't take my shit, but who have also shown patience. I don't recall having had a plan to kill myself after that night. However, I do recall MANY times before the last 12 months or so that I just really wanted to be dead. The thoughts like: if a semi would just crash into me, or, if these hairclippers cut my neck on accident....stupid shit like that...passive suicidal thoughts maybe??? Not sure, but they still scared me. And the fact that I ever got to that piont makes me extra worried, but a worry based on vigilance or early-warning watch, that I could go back there easily.
It is just funny to me how my thought processes have ALL gotten jacked up since the summer I left the Army. If it wasn't for the therapy and the Doc putting up with my shit, I know for a fact that one or more of the following would be true: I'd be dead, I'd be divorced, I wouldn't have my kids with me, I'd be flipping burgers in some town up north instead of doing what I am good at, or I'd have moved in with some old ex-girlfriend or hooker just because it would be a relationship with no emotional ties, or I'd have never bought a second house or changed jobs. I guess, my thought process was, and still is somewhat, so jacked up that with PTSD therapy and a Doc that gives a shit (I think so anyway), I would have gotten more and more afraid of everything and I would have just run away or found a way to die without committing suicide.
As for homocide...can't think of any plans there! Fratricide (spelled right even??)..definitely no plans there as I would lay down my life for my brothers and family. However, pesticide got me today to, at least in the form of stepping on a ton of spiders. lol
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