Sometimes I have to wonder why...WHY...WWWHHHHYYYY? I mean, how is it some people fought right next to me, almost literally in Iraq, and aren't bothered at all by that shit. I hear a bass drum at a concert and it just takes me back to all the incoming rounds landing around me, blowing shit...and people...all to hell!!! I have been told that my childhood sexual trauma is a BIG reason why Iraq affected me so. I spent most of my life trying...and for the most part succeeding, to forget everything that happened back then. Hell, I had all but forgotten EVERYTHING until the shit from Iraq messed up the grey area in between my fucking ears.
I have been in therapy for now almost two, TWO years. I knew that if I didnt go, I would become one of those older vets who does really violent and stupid shit. Hell, I had even forgotten about three suicide plans (and one partial attempt that I had seriously worked out...only told the Doc one though for some reason) I mean, I SEE the temper and I know the thoughts I have when I am pissed...and I see the dumbass ideas I get when I am amped up. I wonder how many other vets are on the freeway, get in "that place" and just floor the fucking gas peddle. Who in that situation doesn't want to feel the fucking the rush of the cars getting passed and the quiet knowledge that it wouldn't take much at all...just a slight jerk of the wheel...to end all of the fucking misery.
I think I still apply that same process to too many things. I mean, I have learned a LOT in therapy and I really try to use it. But then there's those days, or even weeks, when everything goes out the window and I get sooooo fucked/jacked/amped/twisted up in hell. At this point, I am starting to think that maybe I did have a little more than the usual bad stuff happen to me when I was younger...like maybe I am a little bit unique in my own hell. I sure as shit don't think I am better than anyone and I certainly don't deserve any more attention than the next guy. Hell, there are vets that MOST DEFINITELY have earned more respect and need for attention than I could even fathom. I mean, what did I do...I got some guys killed, I didn't kill a specific insurgent teenager when I had the perfect chance (getting even more killed), I took a lot of rounds that missed me by the grace of God or a gust of wind, and I looked at too many fucked up bodies from explosions (although I say that a body that's been sitting for a few days in the heat HAS to be worse than one that just got dismembered from a friggin mortar round). Ohh..and there's the fact that at three...THREE...different times in my childhood(ages 4-5, 6-7, and 9-10) I was used as a fuck-hole for too many people. Raped! I was RAPED more than once by more than once person. I was RAPED with fingers, toys, and a bunch of asshole's cocks. Sometimes I can feel that pain now...I remember that it never didn't hurt during the younger times and I am sickened that I have memories of kind of liking that shit while the last couple was raping her daughter and me. I went through six months or so of puberty while learning yet again how to suck men and eat women and how to have sex myself. First time I ever "measured" myself was because that barmaid bitch told me to...that was the first time I ever really thought about how long or fat I was. That stupid bitch was obsessed with comparing me to her fucking boyfriend...she made it a game and I somewhat believe that she was the one in charge. She made him so pissed one time when she said I was "fatter" then him. How fucked up is it that I was proud of that...they are MAKING me fuck and suck them and her daughter and I was starting to like it and starting to get proud of my dick and taking pride in the fucked up shit I was "learning" how to do. Sometimes I WANTED to go down the street to that fucking black house. I wished my dick didn't work back then or that I would've cut it off. Then her cigarette breath would have never affected it!!! Some days it is SOOO hard to feel like a man when I realized that the only people probably fucked more in the ass and mouth than me are the gonzo porn chics. Probably not really true but it fucking feels like it!!!!!!! Doesn't help that I went though spurts of time where I thought I was gay or bi. Not attracted to guys, but sometimes the idea of some specific things makes me way too excited sometimes. Especially when that same idea is a reminder of the things I had to do as a kid...a reminder of this shit. I think the middle stuff was the worst because that bitch and her husband were definitely fucking psycho...but I am not sure that some bondage, s&m, and rape is worse than the mini-orgies and the fucking fantasies that I still find myself having that almost mimic the same positions and actions. Oh, if I could find those motherfuckers...every last fucking one of them!!! How's that for honestly...which brings me to my stupidity.
I could be doing something valuable like working on stuff for this course I am in or doing homework that is due tonight...but nope. I am paying my homework only a little attention while I dig around on the TV, look for decent porn, and ponder drinking way too much scotch. Too much scotch...I think with my medication that ANY scotch is too much. But given the fact that I NEVER feel drunk from scotch UNLESS I have had too much....I wouldn't know I had too much until I had too much. Of course that would be bad for a bunch of reasons! I have had so many stupid ideas tonight it's a wonder that suicide is the only thing I haven't thought about. I mean, I don't want to die...not sure I wan't to "be"...but I don't want to be dead. How much easier would things be if my doc just locked me up for the rest of my life??? Unfortunately, I have the kids, so a long-term lock up would definitely result in a mass homicide and a suicide. But, my life feels so SOOO fucked right now that sometimes I really wish she would lock me up. I don't think I could effectively lie to her, so I don't think there's anything shy of "please lock me up" that I could say to her...especially since getting "locked up" would cost me my job and other things. What a fucking bummer!!!! How come we as a society can't have mental health week on a bi-annual basis? I mean I have this DRIVE to be the BEST at what I do at work...but personally I am just sooo fucking drained most of the time.
So why do I want to run? Why am I not using my tools effectively? Why do I feel like I am regressing? I have NO idea. A part of me thinks that I feel "comfortable" in my misery, but a part of my thinks it needs to be gone like yesterday and that I need to start LIVING. But then it's like there are all these things against me in my personal life: I have a wife I trust maybe 20% of the time to be supportive, I ha I have the same Doc who I wish didn't have so many damn patients, I have a memory that doesn't seem to want to remind me of the tools when I need them most, and I seem to have just plain gotten lazy with little drive to better myself personally. I seem to put all of my efforts into professional development and keeping my wife from exploding. Doesn't seem right on some level I guess!!!!!!!!
I guess I am going to go to sleep...maybe that's the only right answer for today and tomorrow I will have some fucking epiphany. Who the fuck knows!!!! I do know that I don't want to deal with any bullshit tonight...which is probably a good reason to contact the Doc...but NOT doing that either. But on the flip side of the "talking to people" thing, I still have to tell my kids goodnight and talk to my wife.
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