Wednesday, November 30, 2011

The Bullshit that is Penn State, Sandusky, and the abuse of young boys

I am a Big10 fan, but never one of Penn State. However, I had always, until the Sandusky revelations came out, felt that Pateno was one hell of a coach and a good person. I was WRONG!!!

My last session with the Doc was the same week that I had heard about (later than the rest of the world apparently) the Sandusky/Penn State scandal of child raping. In the waiting room that day I first heard the mother of the first victim that came forward and then heard one of the victims themselves. Of course, the voices were digitally masked, but that wasn't the point. The thing that really struck me, and the Doc hit on it too, was that I immediately started to berate myself for not being as strong as those boys. They were able to publicly state the things that I still struggle with privately and they were able to call out their abusers, their rapists. This kind of had me fucked up a little bit, but also kinda proud of these boys (or I guess they are men now). The other thing that struck me at the time was a comment that the Doc made about how there seems to be quite a lot of recent news about boys being raped and/or abused.

Today I heard a little about the same shit going on at Syracuse. A coworker mentioned that there were two other national cases also involving the sexual abuse of other children. And this is where I come to the primary point of this: I need to find a much better way to either escape these conversations or to not get so emotional (well...angry anyway) while being in them. ALL they do is piss them off. Today I got so mad at someone who was somewhat supporting Paterno's lack of integrity or spine (or, and I hope not, his direct involvement or knowledge). My overall response was to somewhat graphically describe the horrible amounts of pain that Sandusky, Paterno, the coach at Syracuse (and ANYONE who rapes children) should be put through.

These people need to be punished to an affect that makes others think twice before sexually abusing a child. I am very proud of those that came forward, although I struggle with my own weaknesses regarding sharing my traumas with ANYONE, I do wish that I had even a tenth of their strength. Or at least that I applied better social techniques when I have no choice but to have these types of conversations (sometimes it's impossible to escape them due to physical barriers when they "pop-up" at work.

Sunday, November 27, 2011

PTSD: Symptoms and Emotions

I have been in therapy for almost 2 years. I think it has been extremely helpful, especially considering the times I didn't kill myself even when I had thought about it. One thing I just realized though...I have NO idea what the actual symptons are for PTSD. I could name a few, but only in generic terms related specifically to me, if that makes sense.
Things I think are symptoms:
- I am afraid to go into crowds.
- I am paranoid about people trying to kill me, blow me up, shoot me, or rape me.
- I think people are talking about me all the time, or think little/nothing of me, or just think I am stupid
- I jump at a large set of noises
- I can't sleep without medication or else I am waking with horrible fucking nightmares
- I feel guilty about a LOT of things from both Iraq, and my fucking childhood

One thing I do know, I have been unable to really HAVE any emotions or show any feelings. I think that this is a symptom too??? I have sat probably 20 times, at least, in the Doc's office and been on the verge of tears...yet I never let myself cry. Even when I wanted to so badly, I still managed to stop myself. I have been holding in a LOT of emotions and I need to find a way to express them in their true forms...but safely for both me and those around me. It's not just the crying...it's the anger too. But the anger I do easily find ways to express...although not always the healthiest, I have at least not beat anyone's ass recently.

But crying...that's something I don't seem to be able to do unless I am stone cold fucking drunk. I did cry some when I read aloud an entry I made on here back in October...when I heard myself say outloud some of the fucked up shit those people did to me as a child. The last few weeks I really haven't even been struck with a need to cry when I am thinking about any of my traumas (except for once in the Doc's office). Until Yesterday.

I took my son to his first ever football game at my favorite college. It wasa  BIG, and important game. My dad couldn't make it, which bothered me the whole time. In addition to that bothering me, I got triggered by a few distinct things, not the least of which was that the chic in front me looked just like the last bitch who involved me in her fucked up games of raping kids...which also happened to occur about 100 miles away from where I was sitting at the time I saw her.

So there I was, an emotional and important game, multiple triggers of both my combat PTSD and my childhood sexual abuse PTSD, sitting with my son at his first game. The end of the game came and it was time to leave. Oddly enough, I got wrapped up in the emotion of EVERYTHING I just listed and I really, REALLY had to hold back tears so that I didn't end up crying like a fucking baby in front of my son and a TON of people.

So what do I do now....I REALLY feel like I NEED to cry. I feel like I need to let all of this emotion out and just fucking explode...cry, scream, hit, kick, punch, hide...something, anything. I don't know if I can move on until I do this....but why won't I let myself. I get why I held it back at the stadium...but WHY can't I let ig flow in a safe place like the Doc's office, my truck, or my own fucking house????

Friday, November 25, 2011

Fucking Family and Secrets!!!!!

How many people have a family with no secrets? Probably none! It's a sad but shameful truth that has apparently existed since Cain slew Abel.
Today I sat with an Uncle of mine and he showed me a LOT of OLD pictures of the family. He gave me a bunch, mostly of my dad, and filled me in on some of the family history. Too say I am annoyed/mad/worried would be putting it lightly!!!! Apparently my dad keeps a LOT more secret about his life (childhood through my mom leaving him, than I realize). Not so much of a big deal, until somewhere in that conversation it came it that my dad had lied about quite a few things to us over the years. This took me down a DANGEROUS path of thinking, one in which it made me wonder if my dad wasn't abused in some way when he was a kid....which in turn took me to "why didn't he know those assholes were raping me???" I don't know that I blame my parents for any of what happened to me as a kid. This whole last week has had me really missing my mother as Thanksgiving was her absolute favorite holiday...yet I can't help be a little disappointed in her as well. It's not fair to say that they "should have known" or that they "should have protected me" when you consider any one group of events by itself. BUT THREE DIFFERENT times I was used as a sex puppet for some prety sick fucks! How could they not have known. Maybe they knew, because of their own trauma (I KNOW my mother was raped) and were just playing Ostrich??? Or maybe they really didn't know????

I do KNOW that I am PISSED OFF and very SAD that they didn't do a better job protecting me from any of these assholes!!!! VERY PISSED OFF....and VERY SAD overall. Really have to NOT think about this shit so much tonight/next few days and have to DEFINITELY avoid thinking about being dead. :-(

Happy Thanksgiving

To my fellow vets and service members and their families: Happy Thanksgiving. I hope that all was wonderful today and full of fun, excitement, safety, and love. I know for me it was a little rouch with all of the noise and people...but I made it through by using my breathing/mindfulness and some alternative thinking!

Hope all is AWESOME!!!!
dw

Monday, November 21, 2011

TOO MUCH - Writing, Thinking, Dreaming, Spacing, Thinking...

I am not sure how to aggregate the whole lot of info I recieved on this, but I have come to believe that it is true: I overthink everything, EVERYTHING, and spend so much time focusing on my fucking trauma, that I am holding myself back from....advancing (trying to avoid using that "B" word...b3tt3r).

It is a cycle...a cycle of shit and hell that I put myself through on an almost minute-by-minute basis, until I get something to bump me out of it...even if it's only a slight reprieve. This process usually starts with an external trigger which gets me thinking about the event that got triggered. I naturally move to try to disect that entire drama, taking the gamut of emotions that go with them and exacerbating them to the full fucking extent. ...and then I actually have the stupidity to wonder why I feel like shit most of the time. There has been a new compication to this mental madness...one that I really wasn't able to put into words until the other day in my session with the Doc: I am feeling better in a lot of ways, or at least feeling "stronger"...but it doesn't "feel right" so I worry that it's just a LOT of apathy coming back in, and that if I am not careful then I will end up suicidal again.

Of course the Doc made two very valid points:
1) If it isn't something happening now, in the present, then why am I worrying about it?
2) I MUST learn to spend less time out of my head!!! Not that I shouldn't process my thoughts, OR emotions, but that maybe I should examine them, make a decision, and move on. Even if the decision I make ends up being wrong and I have to rethink it....it's still way less time in my own self-imposed hell than what I normally spend.

Don't know where I'd be without the advice and support of the Doc, and (because of her) my Wife!!! Actually, that's not true...I either be heading towards a bloody death, or have already gone there. Somedays I really hate me...but the few people I have to count on are miracle-workers and awesome and deserve nothing but respect, concern, faith, and love!!!

On another note....a VERY stressful weekend. Overall, despite some bullshit today, including getting started very bad by my waitress (twice!!!) it's been a pretty good day, so I am happy about that. Now if I can get some well-needed sleep before I have to leave to take an exam in the morning....that would be fucking awesome!!!!!!!

Tuesday, November 15, 2011

Comments

It appears that slowly, other people are finding this blog. If you run accross this and find something helpful, or too much, let me know with a comment. I started this as an "anonymous journal" for myself only. However, with the "Stats" showing that more and more people Are finding this thing, I would be completely OK with any comments, good or bad.

(For) Better (or Worse???)

I think that therapy, both the interaction with the therapist, and the individual work, are a lot like a marriage...without all the hassle of fights, sex, jealousy, etc.) I don't mean to say that it is only good things, just that I can see a correlation between these two parts of therapy (individually), and marriage.

In marriage, there has to be, MUST be, a relationship of trust and commonality (or some other foundation to foster communication). In therapy, there is NO way it's going to work without trust AND a foundation for communication. I have read a lot in the last year about therapy and, quite frankly, I am more and more convinced that I made the right choice in sticking with my current Doc...even when I struggle with feeling like she's ready to "divorce" me.

One of the topics I read about was that of choosing a therapist. This is no easy task...at least it wasn't for me. I talked with a Doc about possibly getting a referral to an Anger Management class. Imagine my surprise when he said that I had PTSD. THEN, I had to have two other doctors "look" at me (no including the doctor picked by the VA for my CMP check), and THEN had to wait for a fucking phone call. The Doc I have is actually the one who called me, but she called to tell me that my choices were limited to females, and to interns at that. At the time, I felt that I had to stick to my guns on two requirements: the therapist HAD to be a male AND the therapist had to be around for awhile. A female intern obviously wan't going to work at that time.

So, much like choosing a life partner, you have to maintain some level of standards. Some contradiction here also parallels life's reality....I didn't get what I thought I wanted and the one I thought would NOT be a good choice ended up being the absolute best. I kind of liken this to my marriages. In my first marriage, I got exactly what I wanted...and it was HELL. In my current marriage, I had NO intention of marrying her. Hell, she was supposed to be a one-night stand and for whatever reason she continued to call me to come over...and that was over 13 years ago. As with my wife, I didn't see anyway that the Doc could be useful long term. I figured she'd be OK as a 'stand-in' until someone meeting my requirements became available.

I think another way that I have to liken my therapy as a whole to the marriage, or at least the relationship process, is in terms of impatience. After I lost my virginity (the time I was willing and with someone I loved), I wanted sex all the time...maybe even too much. I didn't know it then but I think I was basing all of my actions on what was expected of me as a kid. So much so that when my first wife I would have sucked some dude's dick just to make her happy...even when she had used my telling her a little I remembered about my CSA, against me. But I have digressed. After loosing my virginity (and before) I don't think that until the last few years that I didn't FEEL a need for sex ALL the time. Even when I wasn't horny, I just knew I needed a release. So, I would masturbate at an average minumum of four times a day...even if I was in a sexual relationship. (the masturbation wasn't always about sexual relief...at least 60% of the time it wasn't...or still isn't). Much like, well...very much like my overly needy desire to have sex, to include some of the shit I was willing to do for that relief, it's the same with my my desire to seek treatment.

I KNEW that if I didn't see a Doctor soon, that I would be done. I had already half-tried to kill myself once and had thought about it more than once since then. But I had a STRONG urge to get help. What I had thought of earlier on was only a sever issue with my temper had turned out to be PTSD, I knew my thoughts and my mental state were spiralling down quickly. I had a STRONG, hourly, urge to get help...a different, non-sexual,  type of relief. So I think that this is very similar too...my desire for physical/emotional relief and my desire for emotional/mental led in different directions but certainly felt and manifested in similar ways (not making any jokes about genitalia here).

I am sure that anyone in therapy for similar issues, and especially those going through the CPT or PE protocols/treatments probably alreay knows all of these comparisons. I just myself though realized it, although I don''t know how I could have missed the correlation earler!

Like marriage, therapy and a working/WORKABLE/HELPFUL relationship with your therapist require:
- patience AND standards during your search
- a desire to get better
- Communication about what's working AND what's not working
- Persistentce to stick with it. Therapy, like marriage, can be very taxing and without some strength to make it

In any event, I think I have a great wife and a decent marriage. I also think that I have the best Doc in the VA system. I wish I could list her name here and sing her praises. I've had to work at both relationships but, and this is important, when I started to include my wife in my treatment....at least with letting her in a little more....that really, REALLY provided some support I needed to percivere in my therapy!!!

Monday, November 14, 2011

Where am I??? or is it 'Who AM I????'

I have no friggin clue!!! Very tired but not so much from lack of sleep...I got amost 7 hours last night. 7 hours of drug induced sleep; thank God for Lorazepam. But for some reason I just feel like I normally do....fucking exhausted!
So today, while sitting forever in the ER and getting torqued over nothing but everthing, I finished the book Victims No Longer. I am glad I finished it...feels like I acomplished something but not sure if it's enough. Really I am not sure of much of anything anything any more...I am struggling with a LOT of the older stuckpoints. I find that recently I am REALLY struggling with guilt, blame, shame, misery, fear, and mindreading. So maybe to work against those:
- I didn't make those rockets/mortars come in and kill those guys
- I didn't know who the kid was before I chose not to shoot him
- I didn't ask those fuckers to abuse me....any of the group of three
- I should be thankful for the things I have
- I have no one to fear anymore...maybe
- My wife and my Doc, the only two I talk to about the CSA stuff, I HAVE to believe that they care and WANT to help.

I have been thinking a LOT about death these days, about being dead...but not about dying itself. I don't want to be dead and I don't want to kill myself. But....I am finding myself thinking a lot about just being dead...would that be any good? I wonder all the time if anyone would miss me or shed a tear (other than hopefully the wife and kids). Who knows and more importantly...who am I???

My oldest lied about, even after getting caught red-handed, eating ice-cream at 5:30 am. She seems to just be full of shit and making nothing but bad choices aimed at her own selfishness and bullshit. This does not help my stress level. Oh, and had to take the wife to the ER tonight...for 4.5 hours! :-(

Friday, November 11, 2011

Veteran's Day Parade

Today was the Veteran's Day parade downtown. I really didn't want to go but I thought I should, or had to I thought. I had originally planned to go for a few reasons:
- I thought my friend CC was marching in the parade with an organization that he is part of...but he was hurt
- I thought my oldest had to march with her JROTC group....but she didn't
- My PTSD clinic was marching, the Doc, the Social Worker, etc...they WERE there.

However, I kinda wish I didn't go now. It's had me fucked up all day. This same shit happened last year and for the exact same reasons. The part that makes it worse is that I was "PREPARED" for the exact same shit that messed me up today, because of last year. I don't want to analyze this too much, but I need to vent to someone...so why not vent to myself on my blog.

What bothered me today:
-I was already in a somewhat bad place thanks to recent flashbacks, stress, and lack of sleep.
-The kids were extremely high-maintenance and complaining/whining ALL morning.
-The damned bass drums...more mortar rounds coming.
-The sirens from the fire trucks...not all of them, just that single, LONG tone. takes me instantly back to the fucking alerts at Anaconda.
-Pain..A LOT of FUCKING PAIN. We actually walked from where we parked....about the start of route...to the END of the route.
-Realizing that the Guest Speaker was one of the people I really wish I could  avoid....I was in Iraq with this guy and while I don't KNOW that it was his fault that we didn't get the recognition AND the help we needed while we were going through that shit. He may have not been at fault, but seeing and hearing that guy reminds me of so much shit from Iraq. I got a coin from him when I was over there....too funny.

I want to be there to support veterans in any fashion and I REALLY WANT to be better at being in public and NOT getting triggered. I don't know though anymore! What am I supposed to do about this. I feel better overall....as in I feel like I am getting/have gotten better. But the symptoms are still there from both the Iraq traumas and the childhood shit. So I feel weird about feeling like I am getting better. I think I am worried that I am just not caring about me any more...whether I get better or not...whether I live or not? Not that I want to die or be fucked up...but maybe a type of sad acceptance of who I am??? Yeah I think that might actually be it. It is GOOD to talk shit out to myself sometimes.

There was something good today. There was a local businessman who sponsored some pretty nice lapel pins and I was able to get one for me. I'm not a fan of lapel pins normally, but this one just seemed special. I was also able to grab one for a friend of mine who is very sick and couldn't make it. I gave it to the Doc to give to him.

Anyway, I don't know that I am going to go next year. :-(


Tuesday, November 1, 2011

Part of a trauma statement

As part of CPT, I had to go back in my pain and remember as I wrote. I had to write my trauma statement. I actually have written 2 and a half. One for the first Iraq trauma I covered in therapy, one for the second Iraq trauma we discussed, and part of a third one for the PE work I started with the childhood sexual abuse.

I thought a lot the last couple of weeks about the first trauma. A lot of that thought wasn't intentional; a lot of nightmare issues and some flashbacks coupled with some of the old guilt TRYING to come back. So, I thought about this and, without seeking any advice from the Doc or anyone else, I thought it might be good to go back over my trauma statement...kinda.

I think I want to write it out again in all it's details of sound and heat and emotions and sights and etc. However, what I don't think I am ready to do is put anything here that might indicate the specific event or who I am. I don't know if this is guilt or fear, but I think if I put anything here that is specifically searchable, especially names, then people might find this blog again. I guess I really don't care if anyone reads it but I worry a little bit about having a repeat of the bullshit with the past blog (facebook hacked, blog broadcasted, email hacked, all by an asshole who used to be a friend, and who probably are the reason that some aren't speaking to me anymore...but this is a WHOLE different topic that REALLY pisses me the fuck off!!!).

Anyway...here goes:
Something shitty happened and I feel like it was my fault.
All done.
Nope...that's not going to be good enough. I know that. However, I am very tired tonight so I think I just want to scratch this in...
I had to go take care of somethings. While at the building I ran into one Soldier first. He was pretty cool and we talked for a bit after I overheard his conversation with someone else and stopped him. He was talking about pictures from the war, which I had a disgusting fucking habit of collecting from my own camera as well as from other's. In any event, I stopped him and we talked for a few minutes. After these few minutes of chatting, before he went into the building, another Soldier came up and joined our conversation. Shortly after this interruption, the first guy excused himself and left the other Soldier and I to talk.

We talked for a few more minutes. I liked this guy as he seemed really fucking cool. I even invited him to our weekly poker game. He seemed interested, we wrapped up our conversation, and I headed across the street to take care of the next chore on my list.

When I got accross the street, I hung outside the door and smoked. After smoking for a few minutes ALL hell broke loose.

I have to stop here. I don't want to write this anymore and I am very tired. Hopefully the fact that I don't have to wake up so early tomorrow and that I am sooooo fucking tired, this will mean no bad dreams or nightmares.

I'll do plan to update this soon. Tomorrow (later today) I need to write up a short list for my session with the Doc. Kinda excited about this appointment, like I have a mission to tackle regarding my therapy and unless the Doc is too busy, mad at me for something, or just fucking tired of me, I think it will be a great session!