Writing does help!

But only when I remember to actually do it! I have been on such a roller coaster the last year and sometimes I wonder that I haven't lost my last nerve or marble...or worse, if I am being honest.

Recently...the last few months, anyway...I have been having the worst damn luck picking movies or tv shows to watch. Seems like 2 or 3 times a week I watch something that reminds me of either the fuckers who abused me or the shit from Iraq. Sometimes I wonder though, what if I went to Iraq, or even Afghanistan, as a contractor??? Would it help me face that finally and once and for all? Or would it make it worse? What about the people who used me and the other kids as sex dolls? I know I could find some of them. Should I? Should I hunt them down and shove a shotgun into them?

This is what kills me...or at least consumes my thoughts perpetually (when I am not practicing the tools I learned in therapy): some does it doesn't take much. I have an injury that bothers me a lot, and it's permanent. But, some days, all it takes is a couple of shooting pains from the injury and my train of thought starts to wander into the dark abyss of my soul, of my past, of my future?

It does get better...even if I don't sound like it now. I AM better than I was. I am just not done yet!

Just Checking in...not checking out...yet!

It's been forever since I have taken the time to write anything, either on here or in my journal! The is mostly because my Doc had made me realize that when I write, I start going waaaayyyy down the damn rabbit hole!
So the last few months I have been seriously fighting the desire to live in my head and fighting flashbacks and memories and symptoms...generally just fighting an increase in the amount of HELL I have been in. For a good chunk of this time, I had a "light" at the end of the tunnel as I knew that the Doc was going to be around for awhile to work me through some of the shit that is still kicking me ass.

Then a bit ago she told me she was moving to different hospital (and city and state!). So now I have been shrinking back into myself and feel myself doing the things I used to do to make it through the day. About the only thing I am not doing is getting drunk every fucking day. I am afraid of reverting and I am afraid of not going forward and I am afraid of how things will work with whoever the new Doc is and I am afraid of THE Doc leaving. I am seriously going to miss her as a person, but more importantly as a rock that I could count on.

Oh well....just goes to show that shit changes and nothing lasts. The Doc was probably the best thing that could have happened to me and I am gonna miss her and her help.

There is about 10 million other things I keep thinking of saying...about a LOT of things....but I am going to keep my fucking mouth shut!!!


Life's a BITCH!!!!!!!

Self-Destruction and Flashbacks!!! :-(

Seems like everything I have touched this week has turned to shit. About the only not getting fucked up is the family life this week, but that's been in part do to my trying to push my shit to the side and not let anyone know.

I have over ten major projects at work right now. I worked on three all week and fucked shit up the entire time. And I have an entire day tomorrow to make it through without destroying any equipment, pissing anyone off, or having any more fucking flashbacks, which I had a bad one tonight.

Today at worked really sucked! I FINALLY finished something that I accidentally fucked up a week ago. What should have been a four hour upgrade operation took a week! When that was done I worked on the next one. This should have only taken an hour...except I grabbed software that was two minor versions behind what it needed to be, which was just enough to break the damn thing. Thank goodness the coworker who honestly seems to know everything was able to spot the error quickly.

The worst part though was tonight. I took my boy to Karate and as I was sitting in the parking lot waiting, I had a horrible flashback that covered more than one occurences of the similar events it seemed. Although the primary event seemed the worst.

What happened: I was sitting in my truck with all of the windows down just enjoying the cold breeze and reading some homework. Somewhere in there the wind and the cold was no longer in my town but was at Camp Anaconda, and Kuwait, and other places of Iraq, sitting in a fucking HUMMWV. The smell was the same, the wind was cutting through my uniform, under my flak jacket. Fuck I am still trying to shake off the feeling...still a little amped. Talking via an email with the Doc about helping other vets, that kinda helped. My wife was a huge help in me calming down a bit. But still I feel like I am fighting to stay in the present and not get lost in the past hells!!!

God help me but I am fucking miserable!!!

Feeling Good....for the most part

I am actually kind of happy to post that I have been feeling pretty good the last couple of weeks. I really am surprised by this, but happy just the same. I think this feeling has a lot to do with the Doc making me read something out loud. What I had to read was actually a blog post I made on here back in October, one that was kind of raw and rambled, but very direct. I had told her that when I had read it out loud to myself in the hotel room, it made me feel really good about myself for a couple of weeks...like a release of pain...much like now. I asked her to look it over to make sure it was at least "good" work I was doing and not just getting happy about nothing good. I guess that's why she made me read it again.

It's kind of funny actually to me about how I am feeling. I am still dealing with symptoms every day, such as nightmares (although they seem to have calmed down from what I remember and what my wife says), some flashbacks, and definitely jumpy. BUT, I feel like I have some hope at a future...strange.

I am not sure how to really explain it but I think I might be feeling like a young alcholic who's been sober for a month and thinks he can handle just one drink. I kinda feel like I can handle not doing therapy, like it would be OK if I just quit. But I think that might not be a good train of thought. I think I might be thinking this because I have been very worried and somewhat angry about my therapy directly.

Part of what I wrote involved Iraq. The Doc made a comment that she hadn't realized, until she read the paper, that I had gone through so MANY attacks in Iraq and had seen multiple deaths during these attacks AND had been close enough to more than one incoming round to knock me on my ass. I don't know if I am mad her for forgetting, or for her verbiage about "not realizing" how bad it was and that she "finally understood" why it affected me so. I actually didn't think anything about it other than it being an odd thing to say at the time. I don't know. She has been really great to me and has saved my life...and maybe my brain. But I guess I was a little hurt or wondering later about how many other things she may have forgotten about things I have said in my sessions. I do believe that she cares but this still really struck me....and I guess I am still concerned about it since I haven't had a session since (and have not been able to ask her about it) AND during some text exchanges last week regarding her not being able to make the session I was a little hurt and worried about her response. I had sent her a message about the fact I was feeling better. She said she was happy to hear this but that I should "PLEASE remember to use" her cell only for emergencies. I guess I just blur lines, or at least appear to blur lines with people. I feel respect, care, and concern for the Doc, like a sister. Maybe that's not appropriate but I can't help the gratitude.

Anyway, I am hoping that this feeling good lasts...or at least feeling like I have hope. I have had a ton of shit go wrong in the last month and it has been really kicking my ass and getting me down on myself. I am also hoping that there is no issues with my therapy. I need that more than most other things in my life right now.

It is great to feel like I have HOPE!!!!

Am I lazy or do I enjoy my PTSD??? Who knows???

Sometimes it is just easier I think to hate yourself and to constantly remind yourself of the "blame" that you feel. At least for me it is, but I don't know why. One would think that it is easier in the long run to work a little at facing down the trauma, learning how to treat/deal with the symptoms. This last week or so I have been doing pretty well with NOT focusing on any of my trauma histories. I have had a chunk of flashbacks,
jumpiness, being too alert, and smelling old horrible scents from the past. I did get a little pissed at one person who tries to help me a lot but I am hoping the reason I got mad is only a misinterpretation.

I started writing this post earlier and had a specific focus in mind...but I have since forgotten what it was. I think my earlier point was about me just being lazy...or at least sometimes being lazy. It might be more than this, or even something else, such as a self-destructive or self-hating attitude. I don't know. I know that some days I absolutely hate who I am, or at minimum how I feel and think.

But I also know that I have to WORK at not thinking this way. To find those positive things about me that might exist and to work on handling the lies the brain tells about me. I can BELIEVE that I didn't launch the mortar and that I did pull the trigger on the insurgent and that I didn't ask to be raped as a child by three different groups of people.

Maybe it's time to focus on those things and to work at not being lazy about getting better and to know and believe that I do NOT enjoy my PTSD!!!!

Just lost

For maybe the last three weeks I have just felt lost. I STILL feel like I have made a lot of progress over the last two years, and I really feel like my little "breakthrough" 6-7 weeks ago with being able to say outloud some of what had happened to me, that that has really helped me feel better about me.

But in the last few weeks I still seem to be sorely on edge, not sleeping well, and having a LOT of nightmares. I had actually felt good about having not had to call the doc during a three week span between appointments. However, she missed last Friday's due to a medical thing, then again the reschedule this past Tuesday, and I missed group today...even though I doubt it even happened. Now I am kinda wishing I would have bugged her in the last week, even though she's apparently pretty sick. Had I bothered her, I would have felt really guilty about that AND felt like I was weak. Quite frankly, I don't even know that I "need" to bother her so much as I feel like I just need someone to bounce my crazy shit off for a few minutes. I don't feel like running it by the wife and I still don't really have anyone else I can talk with. I guess I just feel like shit.

Almost Cried like a baby in Group

I have been so busy but I wanted to put this up before I forgot all about it. This past week I made it to group. I was really glad to have gone, although it was ROUGH for me. One of our members is dealing with something involving a teenager he is trying to help...a teenager he almost killed a year ago when this kid attacked him. His issue with this whole thing is that he is feeling guilty that the kid is probably going to jail for quite a few years and he feels like he failed this little bastard in some way. I had mixed feelings on this as he talked.

As he talked, I got really mixed feelings. These feelings came from two seperate trauma types: one of my traumas from Iraq and all of my childhood sexual trauma.

I got pissed becuase he sounded like he was making excuses for this kid.
--- This kid sounds like every other piece of shit punk or adult who likes to take advantage of people they think are weak or easy targets. This just smarts of those fucking dirty bastards who raped me and the other children!
I got sad AND guilty becuase of my feelings related to the incident with the albino kid in Iraq. I should have shot that bastard, had reason to, and had a 90% chance of not being penalized for doing so.
--- Not killing him that day allowed him to live a lot longer, which allowed him to continue to transport weapons to Ar Ramadi and Fallujah and to use them against the Marines and Soldiers there. Allowing him to live was a stupid fucking decision and feel directly responsible for the lives of American's that were lost due to that fuck!

Having the feelings would have been OK. However, the Doc remembered about the incidents and my feelings about them and she quickly drew the same corrolation that I did, or she at least assumed that's what I was thinking about. I honestly wasn't going to say a damn thing as I didn't trust myself to speak. BUT, she asked...and since she asked and I agree to do anything reasonable that she asks, I answered. I told the group a little about the incident in Iraq and how even though I DIDN'T kill the kid, I still felt the same kind of guilt that this guy (and one other) felt.

As the Doc probed, I had to seriously fight back tears, which made me doubly pissed at myself. Pissed that I fought back the tears (because I still feel like I NEED to cry) and pissed at myself for showing emotions. I guess the Doc noticed as she asked me stay a few minutes after group. I did so, and I told her quickly about how I was just already feeling fucked up due to the triggers and other shit that I had the week before, as well as a coomplete lack of sleep with a LOT of job stress added in. Basically I was in a fucked up place! I was going to tell her that the other feelings and hell I had in me, due to both this guys' story as well as the week before, were ALL because of my being raped as a child. However, I felt myself starting to water in the eyes. I told her that I had to go. What was actually nice was that she told me the only reason that she was NOT making me stay and talk about things was because she knew I had to get back to work. That actually felt good...it's nice to know people give a shit sometimes...especially when my head is in dark and dangerous holes and all I feel are fucked up or wrong emotions.

I still need to cry!

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.

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????

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

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!!!!!!!

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!!!

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! :-(

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. :-(

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!

Feeling REALLY good today

There is something about being gone on a fun trip that makes me realize what I love and care about most in this world. I could give a shit about me most days, whether I live or die, but being gone this past weekend made me realize how much I wanted my wife and kids with me. I think this is good since it's one of the first times I have I have just honestly felt that way about ALL the kids AND the wife.

It's not that I don't love any of them. On the contrary, they are about all I truly love, except for some that I consider friends, like I mentioned before. However, my usual mode of operation is to just crave lonliness. I still haven't figured out why I always feel that I need this but I do know that it goes hand in hand with my wanting to run...ALL THE TIME!

Anyway, I feel pretty good today. I am physically fucking exhausted. But, I think having the time to myself and the time to relax, unwind, find thngs to focus on other than my traumas...I really needed that!!! It made me really miss my family. Most importantly it made me really miss ME.

I think that THIS is actually progess! I am missing more and more the person I was before the Iraq trauma happened and at least before the memories of the childhood sexual trauma that I had to suffer through! That HAS to indicate that I do want to live and that I do want to move forward in my life and my treatment. I think that this reaffirms my need to talk with the Doc about maybe developing some goals...not necessarily time-limited therapy (I can see the pros and cons of this actually), but at least something a little more tangible.

I have no clue what I wanted to say here....a lot of interruptions! But that's OK!!! I just kinda feel good and willing to move forward. I think I am good going back to "pink tutus" and "plucking." :-)

Loving others

For a long time I liked to believe that I was devoid of any emotions accept anger and apathy (is this one really emotion?)

I think for the most part this was very true. I either didn't know I had other emotions, was so used to supressing them, or really just didn't have them; there was one exception to this. I have since learned that I do in fact have a multitude of emotions/feelings, even if some are still very hard to "show." I think crying is the one form of expression that I really haven't been able to use at all...and it is one that I constantly feel that I actually need to do. I have come close so many times, but I haven't let myself actually do it in those times. Usually because my wife is sitting 10 feet away or my kids are around or I am at the Doc's or basically any situation where other people can see me. I guess this would be my fear and pride taking control.

In any event, the one exception to my original statement is: Love. While driving part of the way home tonight, I had some time to think about this. I realized something that I think I already knew: there is more than one "type" of Love.

I guess I realized that I may not know what it means to Love anyone. I know how I feel about my kids and what I would do to protect them. But then I also know that are exist a few others that I would do the same for...but this doesn't mean it's a Love like I have for my kids, or like I have for my wife. So how can my level of affection for people be diverse when my willingness to help and protect those few (other than my kids) is equal regardless of who they are. These people I care about now that I am not married to or the father of, some are related to me, some are not. Yet, if they asked for the shirt off of my back, I would gladly give it. Here's where part of my confusion comes in, and the realization that it is maybe possible that I just latch onto people so tightly at the first sign that they might help/protect me, that I confuse this neediness with affection or Love. But is there a line? If I latch on to those who I begin to genuinely trust or feel gratitude for, is that so wrong? I am sure that there is a level that it becomes wrong because anything in excess is just piss-poor. But what about those who I have just been around for a long time.

I was thinking about JT today, and I think that she's a great example of this. I feel this strong urge to want to talk with her everyday and I tend to be bummed when I can't, or when we are texting but then she drops off. I also know that if I felt someone was threating her in anyway, that I would step in, regardless of if it's my place or not. Then there's the fact that I am definitely attracted to her sexually.
So, I would bend over backwards for her, risk jail time or worse for her, I wouldn't kick her out of bed (all jokes in my head ignored here), and I really just want to talk with her everyday about her. Does this mean I love her? In a way, I think the answer is yes. But I think today I more clearly saw the line between the love one has for a friend or helper, and the love one has for a partner. And while the displays of these love's is obviously different, I am not so sure the truth of either one is so different from the other. I think when the physical Love (sex) is added in with the Love of a Partner, then it's just another method of showing that Love...that should be only shared with one (again, different from just raw energy sex). While I might do the same with either JT or my wife (support, help, communicate, sex), there is one important difference: the choice of one over the other.

Maybe it's just that I haven't slept but 10 hours in 3 days (and travelled to/through 7 different states), but I think that the difference in types of love boils down to choice of one over the other.
For me, I would prioritize the Love I have for these people, in order of choice over others if required:
My kids
My wife
My parents
my friends (even those who may not consider me a friend)
my siblings and extended family
Whatever the honorable thing to do in a situation is.

So, when I think that I "love" some chic, I don't think it's ever been about romance and affection and respect. I have had many female friends, and those that I actually talked with over time, I would without fail come to "realize" that I must be in love with them. However, after the last 2 years of therapy and the things I concluded today in deep thought at 90 mph, I don't think it ever really had anything to do with romance and preference. I think it has always been about my safety, my need for approval, my belief that I must, basically anything but reality. I think that there were 4 times when I exchanged the magic three words (or just shared them) where it was truly based on something more:
- I married 2 of them
- had a long talk about how we both felt the same but since I was married to the first one
- She tells me still to this day that she feels the exact same way and longs for the situations to be different. (this is a whole different story that I am not even giving attention to right now.

So while I may have "felt like" I did/do/have had that love for different women, I am now fairly certain that while it may be true in the sense of a "love as a friend," that does not mean that I need to, want to, or should want to add a sexual component to it. As I am typing this I realize that it makes a lot more sense in my head than in print. I think I do that with a lot of things though too.

I know that there is a caveat here, especially since I don't think ANYONE really understands this emotion. I think that the caveat is that a person doesn't necessarily choose who they fall in love with (yep, even as a friend only), but they can choose to let themselves fall in love with someone.

The real problem I have with all of this: do I love myself? And if I don't, am I really able to love anyone else, or is it just neediness and/or lust and/or comfort that I chase and give back???

Travel, Stress, and Moods

Made it home tonight! Long damn day, to say the least! Had to take a shuttle bus from my original airport an hour away to a different one since my outbound flight was messed up. And that was after 3 LONG hours of driving at 0-dark 30. Crap!!!

It's been a long couple of weeks. I am taking a trip with a friend this weekend....Driving NOT flying. I am looking forward to the break. However, it won't give me any time to read. I did have a row to myself the last leg of my flight today, and I did use that to read my Victims No Longer book. It made me think about a LOT of things. I think I need to reassess a few things based on some ideas I got from what I read tonight.

I think one thing I really need to do is talk with the Doc and reassess some things. So here's what I am thinking:
1) I don't know what my goals are anymore. So this is where to start. I keep reading/hearing the term time-limited therapy. I don't know if that's something that will sit well with me in regards to either the childhood trauma nor iraq.
   - I've been thinking about this a lot though...
      - Working on my fear/pain/guilt/anger of my past
      - Working on my exposure therapy. Next appointment, I am going to sit in the most vulnerable spot
2) What is the best way to work towards those goals?
   - Seems like recently I have been monopolizing sessions with talking about nothing but present stuff. Some of this is directly about how my past is fucking me mentally up in the present. But there is a lot of extraneous stuff.
3) I think I need to clarify with the Doc that I fully understand the "rules." I have a hard time talking with anyone even the Doc, and although I think I maybe contact her too much...it really only is when I feel like I have to. (This should be one of, or grouped in somehow, my goals). I think she knows that and is trying to get me to learn to better deal with things on my own. But sometimes her responses seem as though she has gotten exasperated with having to help me. I don't want to go down that path of thinking because then I wouldn't be able to trust her. I think this is where my anger yesterday came from, from worrying that the Doc is just tired of me and my neediness. One of the things I read didn't help...the book basically said that any good therapist should understand this neediness and/or the need that survivors have to latch on to people that help without costs.

On top of maybe working with the Doc to re-acquire some focus in my sessions. I am starting to think about some other things:
1) I need to talk with the wife about the marital counselor. He called the other day but I haven't had time to call him back. I have been home for an hour and am leaving again in 8....and I am nervous to bring it up with her. I am nervous that she's going to refuse to honor her agreement to go. Apparently this guy does "time-limited" couples counseling with specific goals. Hearing about him and his program is actually what started me thinking about my own individual therapy.
2) I think I am ready to ask about/look into groups for adult survivors. The thing my buddy said last week that fucked me up so bad, even still, made me at first afraid of everyone, even the Doc (I don't know why I didn't want to tell her that in the email that she replied to...strangely...the other day). However, I NEED others who can empathize with my history and provide me some external support. I can't rely on the Doc forever and I don't want to overwhelm the wife all the time either.
3) Do something about "contacting my inner child." The Doc mentioned this before and I read again about it tonight. It sounds very weird to me...but it makes sense on this lower level. No one protected that kid. I should talk with him.

Anyway, I feel good now that I am home. It was like all the pressure of the world and my brain kind of disappeared. I really did miss my wife and kis. As much as I worry about the future of our marriage, I really do love this woman and don't want anyone else!!!