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.
Showing posts with label Childhood Sexual Trauma. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Childhood Sexual Trauma. Show all posts
Wednesday, November 30, 2011
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. :-(
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. :-(
Tuesday, October 18, 2011
Taking a risk in Therapy
I think that there are a LOT of stupid things that one can do while in therapy. A LOT! I also believe the therapy process to be one of tradeoffs over time. Tonight I made a tradeoff that I hope wasn't a terrible risk that ends up hurting more than helping. I copied one of my more recent, and more important, posts from here and sent to my Doc for feedback.
The post I sent was the one I made prior to this one...with some scrubbing of course. Some of what was in the post was not germane to my hope of feedback. However, just sending the post makes it more possible for the Doc or anyone who reads it (God forbid she shares it, even anonymously) to actually search for and find this blog. Quite frankly I have enjoyed checking the stats and seeing that I am the only one actually visiting the site. I guess this doesn't rule out RSS Feeds, but that's a small risk as I am pretty sure nothing I write here is of any value to anyone else. HOWEVER, I think that there are some things here that if read by some of my friends, my kids, my wife, or the Doc, would cause me some hassle, at a minimum. Thus the risk! I don't believe it was a stupid choice, but time will tell.
Why did I send it to her? Why did I even mention it? In today's session I explained to her why I have been in such a good mood and what caused me to have some epiphanies/revelations last week. It was that post. It was adding to that post and re-reading the entire thing. It was reading that post out LOUD to myself in my hotel room last week. It was the feeling the anger at those who RAPED and used me WITHOUT feeling the anger and guilt at myself. Sure, that's still there, in me deep and probably will be for a long time. BUT I didn't have to own it while I got mad at these "people" who abused me and I didn't have to accept blame for something I couldn't control. So all that said, I think that since I really appreciate the Doc's point of view on things and level-headed way of examining things, I think her feedback on that post (the edited version that is) will be good AS WELL AS Helpful in my overall recovery process.
I realized a long time ago that there are tradeoffs in every relationship: professional, casual, and personal. In therapy I believe that there has to be a tradeoff of attachments, connections, investments, and emotions. I think my Doc is the best because she seems to invest 100% into each session and because she's willing to call me on my shit. I think that she also has to bear the brunt of the tradeoff. When I disclose the things that traumatized me from Iraq and when I disclose those disgusting events of my childhood, she get's it stuck in her brain, along with all of the other horror stories from all of the other vets that she treats. The tradeoff I think for her is two-fold: 1) in investing herself in the therapy process and doctor/patient relationship, she has to give up a bit of herself and "take on" some or all of the painful mental images of her patients, and 2) she has to, I think anyway, constantly battle a balance between what to say and when to say it in order to avoid a multitude of possible problems such as a patient getting too emotionally attached, a patient feeling threatened enough to react against her, or a even the possible risks of saying the wrong thing at the wrong time or having a statement or interpretation missinterpretted. (sp?)
I think though that as a patient, I also have tradeoffs that I have to go through. One of these is that of attachment. I think, or I hope, that it is normal for a patient to develop an attachment to their doctor, whether it be a romantic one, a friendship one, an enabling/co-dependent one, some combination of these, or others. I know for me personally I have gone through a few of these over different times: I had to convince myself of different assumptions about the Doc in order to seriously avoid thinking of her in sexual ways, I thought I was in love with her at one point, and I thought that we could be really good friends forever (especially since I do try to keep those friendships that are GREAT active). I have come to some conclusions on the tradeoffs though: I absolutely cannot think about the Doc in sexual terms...I know I tried a few times a while ago and just COULDN'T do it...which was strange, I absolutely cannot be "in love" with the Doc (while I admit to having quite strong feelings for her, it's definitely not anything I allow myself to focus on nor is it the stereotypical "in love with my doc" shit...guess it's more of just a love for the Doc...more than like that for a sister but I also don't allow to be sexual or romantic either), and I don't think that if she stays at the VA that we could actually be friends due to stupid fucking ethics. Quite frankly, and it's selfish, but I am OK with her just being the Doc that I have a one-way friendship with due to ethics and other constraints....I NEED the therapy WAY more than anything else right now. So I guess that's the tradeoff I have to make off in order to have a successful therapy process and although I hate the fact that I eventually loose her as a friend (probably my best), it's the way it has to be in order for me to get past all the hell in my head.
Wow...this post was WAY longer than I intended. Not even sure if I covered what I meant to: that I took a risk and sent a somewhat-scrubbed version of the previous post on here to my Doc because I think that one really needs her feedback because of the fact it allowed/inspired me to say out loud the things that happened to me as a child. AND, that I just wanted to remind myself that there are tradeoffs in my therapy and as awesome as I think the Doc is, the therapy/friendship/whatever has to end at some point and probably with some finality...bummer but life I guess.
The post I sent was the one I made prior to this one...with some scrubbing of course. Some of what was in the post was not germane to my hope of feedback. However, just sending the post makes it more possible for the Doc or anyone who reads it (God forbid she shares it, even anonymously) to actually search for and find this blog. Quite frankly I have enjoyed checking the stats and seeing that I am the only one actually visiting the site. I guess this doesn't rule out RSS Feeds, but that's a small risk as I am pretty sure nothing I write here is of any value to anyone else. HOWEVER, I think that there are some things here that if read by some of my friends, my kids, my wife, or the Doc, would cause me some hassle, at a minimum. Thus the risk! I don't believe it was a stupid choice, but time will tell.
Why did I send it to her? Why did I even mention it? In today's session I explained to her why I have been in such a good mood and what caused me to have some epiphanies/revelations last week. It was that post. It was adding to that post and re-reading the entire thing. It was reading that post out LOUD to myself in my hotel room last week. It was the feeling the anger at those who RAPED and used me WITHOUT feeling the anger and guilt at myself. Sure, that's still there, in me deep and probably will be for a long time. BUT I didn't have to own it while I got mad at these "people" who abused me and I didn't have to accept blame for something I couldn't control. So all that said, I think that since I really appreciate the Doc's point of view on things and level-headed way of examining things, I think her feedback on that post (the edited version that is) will be good AS WELL AS Helpful in my overall recovery process.
I realized a long time ago that there are tradeoffs in every relationship: professional, casual, and personal. In therapy I believe that there has to be a tradeoff of attachments, connections, investments, and emotions. I think my Doc is the best because she seems to invest 100% into each session and because she's willing to call me on my shit. I think that she also has to bear the brunt of the tradeoff. When I disclose the things that traumatized me from Iraq and when I disclose those disgusting events of my childhood, she get's it stuck in her brain, along with all of the other horror stories from all of the other vets that she treats. The tradeoff I think for her is two-fold: 1) in investing herself in the therapy process and doctor/patient relationship, she has to give up a bit of herself and "take on" some or all of the painful mental images of her patients, and 2) she has to, I think anyway, constantly battle a balance between what to say and when to say it in order to avoid a multitude of possible problems such as a patient getting too emotionally attached, a patient feeling threatened enough to react against her, or a even the possible risks of saying the wrong thing at the wrong time or having a statement or interpretation missinterpretted. (sp?)
I think though that as a patient, I also have tradeoffs that I have to go through. One of these is that of attachment. I think, or I hope, that it is normal for a patient to develop an attachment to their doctor, whether it be a romantic one, a friendship one, an enabling/co-dependent one, some combination of these, or others. I know for me personally I have gone through a few of these over different times: I had to convince myself of different assumptions about the Doc in order to seriously avoid thinking of her in sexual ways, I thought I was in love with her at one point, and I thought that we could be really good friends forever (especially since I do try to keep those friendships that are GREAT active). I have come to some conclusions on the tradeoffs though: I absolutely cannot think about the Doc in sexual terms...I know I tried a few times a while ago and just COULDN'T do it...which was strange, I absolutely cannot be "in love" with the Doc (while I admit to having quite strong feelings for her, it's definitely not anything I allow myself to focus on nor is it the stereotypical "in love with my doc" shit...guess it's more of just a love for the Doc...more than like that for a sister but I also don't allow to be sexual or romantic either), and I don't think that if she stays at the VA that we could actually be friends due to stupid fucking ethics. Quite frankly, and it's selfish, but I am OK with her just being the Doc that I have a one-way friendship with due to ethics and other constraints....I NEED the therapy WAY more than anything else right now. So I guess that's the tradeoff I have to make off in order to have a successful therapy process and although I hate the fact that I eventually loose her as a friend (probably my best), it's the way it has to be in order for me to get past all the hell in my head.
Wow...this post was WAY longer than I intended. Not even sure if I covered what I meant to: that I took a risk and sent a somewhat-scrubbed version of the previous post on here to my Doc because I think that one really needs her feedback because of the fact it allowed/inspired me to say out loud the things that happened to me as a child. AND, that I just wanted to remind myself that there are tradeoffs in my therapy and as awesome as I think the Doc is, the therapy/friendship/whatever has to end at some point and probably with some finality...bummer but life I guess.
Wednesday, October 12, 2011
Stupid PTSD, STUPID ME
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.
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.
Monday, October 10, 2011
Associating my wife with hell????
My wife and I have been having some really stupid but fucked up arguments as of late. The bottom line has been that she believes that "if [I] inists she see a counselor about who she's become then I can just leave." This was only part of the argument. A lot my complaints with her revolve CONSISTENTLY around her constantly shitty temper and the yelling.
I HATE yelling and I do it myself ONLY as a LAST option before using my fists t settle something. Yelling has a VERY strong ability to trigger ALL of my trauma from my childhood as well as some of the incidents from Iraq. So, yelling kind of ALWAYS takes me back to that hell of being raped as a child...EVERY time! Since I have started explicitly working this trauma with the Doc, my reaction has worsened! It's even been so bad as to cause me problems when a specific group member looses his temper. It's like an isntant flashback trigger. Now, my wife has been kind of the same.
So this past Monday we had this continuation of the fight and she was yelling. She later gave me her "apology" in the form of a hug and a dirty joke. Shortly after that, she wanted sex. So I had sex with her.
I am sure that I only go hard was due to being physically horny. I was able to get into us having sex but I had to fight a lot of shit from when I was hurt as a kid. It might be germane to note that we JUST had sex...some oral and grouping and kissing and them me on top. However, she had asked to get some of our "things" and to 69 with her. I would normally be OK that, even like it, but it seemed like everything she did or wanted just triggerd more memories of hell!!!
This wouldn't have been if it was just one night. However, happeded that night and then again Thursday. And that wasn't the worst part. What was the worst was actually 2 things...equally horrible: 1) My nightares have been horrible since Monday night, and 2) EVERYTIME I have been around her this last week and looked at, I either see those fucker's face or I see her face on the necks of those who raped me!!!!!
The Doc was helpful, even if she did have to miss my second appointment for the week this past Friday. However, I am falling asleep typing this so I will have to update or post a part II. The only good news is that I am out of town for a week, so I don't need a solution this very exact second.
I HATE yelling and I do it myself ONLY as a LAST option before using my fists t settle something. Yelling has a VERY strong ability to trigger ALL of my trauma from my childhood as well as some of the incidents from Iraq. So, yelling kind of ALWAYS takes me back to that hell of being raped as a child...EVERY time! Since I have started explicitly working this trauma with the Doc, my reaction has worsened! It's even been so bad as to cause me problems when a specific group member looses his temper. It's like an isntant flashback trigger. Now, my wife has been kind of the same.
So this past Monday we had this continuation of the fight and she was yelling. She later gave me her "apology" in the form of a hug and a dirty joke. Shortly after that, she wanted sex. So I had sex with her.
I am sure that I only go hard was due to being physically horny. I was able to get into us having sex but I had to fight a lot of shit from when I was hurt as a kid. It might be germane to note that we JUST had sex...some oral and grouping and kissing and them me on top. However, she had asked to get some of our "things" and to 69 with her. I would normally be OK that, even like it, but it seemed like everything she did or wanted just triggerd more memories of hell!!!
This wouldn't have been if it was just one night. However, happeded that night and then again Thursday. And that wasn't the worst part. What was the worst was actually 2 things...equally horrible: 1) My nightares have been horrible since Monday night, and 2) EVERYTIME I have been around her this last week and looked at, I either see those fucker's face or I see her face on the necks of those who raped me!!!!!
The Doc was helpful, even if she did have to miss my second appointment for the week this past Friday. However, I am falling asleep typing this so I will have to update or post a part II. The only good news is that I am out of town for a week, so I don't need a solution this very exact second.
Tuesday, August 9, 2011
Down the Rabbit Hole again...and again...and again!
So I've been going around in circles and down fucking rabbit holes for awhile! Time in Hawaii was fun...but then flashbacks were a bitch. Hadn't seen the Doc for almost month when I went in there yesterday. Session was pretty good....but weird. Sometimes the doc makes faces and/or uses words that really make me wonder where her head was. Point in fact, if she wasn't my Doc, or if at least the conversation wasn't about what it actually was about...then I'd actually wonder if she wasn't starting to feel too close to me. Not necessarily in a sexual way....maybe in a way that's more than "brother" but less than "boyfriend." I would LOVE to ask her....but it's not worth the risk. I need HER help, and I have my own baggage and dependents anyway. If I wasn't so fucked up and so married, I would definitely have already done my best to hit on her.
In any event, the point of this post is that I am just fucking hating life right now. I did have some "dangerous" thoughts while away in Hawaii...but I didn't want to share that with the Doc or anyone...I didn't do ANYTHING to act on them since I really don't even like the idea of dying. Having a month off from the Doc really sucked ass...I really needed to talk with her about 15million times...and I just kinda missed her as a friend.
So over the last month -> I have been having a ton of questions about my childhood abuse and about Iraq. I have had too many dreams and too many flashbacks and too much guilt. The last few nights have been really horrible in the sex department too. So much so that I don't even WANT sex tonight despite my wife's very high libido and subsequent aggrevation about me telling her it's not going to happen. What's the actual problem?
The problem has been the frequency and types of memories that have been forcing their way into my head while having sex with my wife: childhood abuse AND Iraq. Then I get one of too reactions: I either loose my erection IMMEDIATELY (and my wife thinks it is due to the drugs I take)....or I cum instantly and then feel disgusted becuase my body reacted with physical excitment to such horrible, HORRIBLE, and PAINFUL memories.
So now I am going to journal more, a LOT MORE, and try to pick the Doc's brain about everything until I feel even just a little fucking better!
In any event, the point of this post is that I am just fucking hating life right now. I did have some "dangerous" thoughts while away in Hawaii...but I didn't want to share that with the Doc or anyone...I didn't do ANYTHING to act on them since I really don't even like the idea of dying. Having a month off from the Doc really sucked ass...I really needed to talk with her about 15million times...and I just kinda missed her as a friend.
So over the last month -> I have been having a ton of questions about my childhood abuse and about Iraq. I have had too many dreams and too many flashbacks and too much guilt. The last few nights have been really horrible in the sex department too. So much so that I don't even WANT sex tonight despite my wife's very high libido and subsequent aggrevation about me telling her it's not going to happen. What's the actual problem?
The problem has been the frequency and types of memories that have been forcing their way into my head while having sex with my wife: childhood abuse AND Iraq. Then I get one of too reactions: I either loose my erection IMMEDIATELY (and my wife thinks it is due to the drugs I take)....or I cum instantly and then feel disgusted becuase my body reacted with physical excitment to such horrible, HORRIBLE, and PAINFUL memories.
So now I am going to journal more, a LOT MORE, and try to pick the Doc's brain about everything until I feel even just a little fucking better!
Sunday, July 31, 2011
No One should have to WITNESS Child Abuse????? Bad Advertising
I haven't had time to look it up but I passed an "interesting" sign in the Chicago Airport this morning. The line that I used as this post's title was the line on the poster. It was a poster to increase awarness of childhood sexual assualt/trauma in the Chicago area. While I applaud the effort, I am seriously annoyed the verbiage. Seriously, can't we start with "No should get away with Child abise"? All these fucks that get little to no time, repeat offenders, and just general shitbags that hurt kids...lets go after them before stopping people from "witnessing" child abuse.
I get the premise of the advertisment....but it still pisses me the fuck off!
I get the premise of the advertisment....but it still pisses me the fuck off!
Tuesday, July 12, 2011
Bad memories and scared of sleep
For the last few months I have been working on some of my shitty childhood trauma using Prolonged Exposure. I have to say that is pretty much is the worse thing I have ever volunteered to do. It's kind of funny too, a few weeks ago I left the session with the realization that I have been leaving there with the same damn headache every time! This week's session was no different. What was funny was that the doc mentioned that she has had patients complain of nasea and/or headaches BEFORE their sessions. Only thing I feel before a session is scared and/or pissed off.
Anyway, I have wanted to write for a few days but just couldn't find the time. We had a big party this weekend for our friends at the new house. It started with a balloon exploding and two Lorazapams and ended with too much vodka and a bad hangover in the morning. Pretty stupid for a guy who rarely drinks anymore. In any event the last few months have been sprinkled with on again/off again bad nights, horrible memories, and a general fear of going to sleep, among other things. Yesterday's session had me climbing the walls completely unwilling to go to sleep until I was actually falling asleep on the couch....which is what's going on now so I am going to try to hurry this thought along without screwing it up.
In yesterday's session, the Doc wanted me to record my talking about the middle instance of hell. And, she told me that she thinks we have to address the later one that is soooooooo bad and fucked up!!!!!!!!!!!! Good news there is that it won't happen for a few weeks..gotta love the holidays.
But I digress :-) ...last night, actually since leaving her office, I have been in a funk. I remembered some more stuff and none of it pleasant. Additionally, I was having some short but painful flashbacks yesterday as well, and all of which was just a mess. Most of it dealt with the childhood sexual abuse while there were at least two distinct instances when I would find myself dreaming/flashing back to Iraq
Anyway, I have wanted to write for a few days but just couldn't find the time. We had a big party this weekend for our friends at the new house. It started with a balloon exploding and two Lorazapams and ended with too much vodka and a bad hangover in the morning. Pretty stupid for a guy who rarely drinks anymore. In any event the last few months have been sprinkled with on again/off again bad nights, horrible memories, and a general fear of going to sleep, among other things. Yesterday's session had me climbing the walls completely unwilling to go to sleep until I was actually falling asleep on the couch....which is what's going on now so I am going to try to hurry this thought along without screwing it up.
In yesterday's session, the Doc wanted me to record my talking about the middle instance of hell. And, she told me that she thinks we have to address the later one that is soooooooo bad and fucked up!!!!!!!!!!!! Good news there is that it won't happen for a few weeks..gotta love the holidays.
But I digress :-) ...last night, actually since leaving her office, I have been in a funk. I remembered some more stuff and none of it pleasant. Additionally, I was having some short but painful flashbacks yesterday as well, and all of which was just a mess. Most of it dealt with the childhood sexual abuse while there were at least two distinct instances when I would find myself dreaming/flashing back to Iraq
Wednesday, June 1, 2011
What I have versus what I want?
WARNING Somewhat disgusting sexually graphic!!! WARNING
So I have issues with combat related shit as well as sex. I have been shot at, mortared, rocketed, raped, forced upon others, and just generally taught many things that a person should never, NEVER, fucking learn as a child, and some even as an adult.
I get amped up at certain noises, certain images, certain places, certain crowds, ...just life I guess. The CPT helped me to really come out of my shell with people...at least in my mind. I have been able to say some things that NEEDED to be said to some of the people I love (if I really know what it means to love???). However, I am NOT able to say things to others that I love or care about, especially close friends.
Then there is the fact that I have a hard...difficult...time being honest with myself. From one minute to the next I am constantly having to put myself in check. My Doc says that I show signs of "Borderline-Personality-Disorder," ...although I am "not my mother!
However, there are thoughts, and maybe some actions, that I have that I later wonder: "Who the fuck was that???" I know I have already written a little about this, but it weighs so damn heavy on my mind that I just can't seem to get past it: apparently lying to myself for 25+ years, losing my identity, questioning every past and current decision, questioning and over-examining every last relationship. Who else but a crazy bastard would do this???
My actual point here, and it goes along with being confused about who I am, is the "what I want" question. There are some definite conflicts in my mind about what is appropriate to want, OK to want, NOT OK to want, and just FUCKING STUPID to want. I think that until I find ME, I am going to continue to be in conflict...to look back on things I said or did and say to myself: "Who the FUCK was that guy???" Until I come to some understanding with my own mind, I am going to continue to have to deal with unwanted desires and thoughts (NO, nothing illegal or hurtful to anyone....except the assholes who have fucked with me).
For instance, I can remember some of the worst digusting physical feelings from my childhood experiences (no one really wants to know those things!!!)...yet I want, and DO think about crazy sex all day. I LOVE Porn and woman...and even get turned on (SERIOUSLY) by certain groupsex ideas. I was forced to clean up "messes" after sex when I was a kid. WTF????? I hate Iraq, and I hate the shit that happened there. Yet, there are days that I would LOVE, give my left nut, beg and plead, to be able to go back. To put that battle-rattle back on and to chamber a round in my M-16 (much better for longer-range targets than the M-4, in my book) and take up watch or clear a house or even escort the trucks that empty the shitters.
So apparently, my fantasies and desires and wants can, and often do, conflict drastically with the traumas in my life. It would be so nice to just be a "normal" person....to be able to just have whatever kind of sex my wife wants and not be such a pervert with her (except for the things she likes)...to NOT dream and think about going back to Iraq...to NOT long for the feel of the heat or the ride in the truck out the wire.
I hope, wonder, and pray that getting through this PE therapy, as well as practicing the Mindfullness and CPT tools will help me to center myself on normalcy and not on freakish things. Otherwise, I should just move to a town like San Fran and take up with the freaks there...see how twisted I am????? Or maybe hop a flight to Baghdad and see what happens there???? NO...I have to BELIEVE that things will get better. The alternative is crappy, at best!!!!!!!
So I have issues with combat related shit as well as sex. I have been shot at, mortared, rocketed, raped, forced upon others, and just generally taught many things that a person should never, NEVER, fucking learn as a child, and some even as an adult.
I get amped up at certain noises, certain images, certain places, certain crowds, ...just life I guess. The CPT helped me to really come out of my shell with people...at least in my mind. I have been able to say some things that NEEDED to be said to some of the people I love (if I really know what it means to love???). However, I am NOT able to say things to others that I love or care about, especially close friends.
Then there is the fact that I have a hard...difficult...time being honest with myself. From one minute to the next I am constantly having to put myself in check. My Doc says that I show signs of "Borderline-Personality-Disorder," ...although I am "not my mother!
However, there are thoughts, and maybe some actions, that I have that I later wonder: "Who the fuck was that???" I know I have already written a little about this, but it weighs so damn heavy on my mind that I just can't seem to get past it: apparently lying to myself for 25+ years, losing my identity, questioning every past and current decision, questioning and over-examining every last relationship. Who else but a crazy bastard would do this???
My actual point here, and it goes along with being confused about who I am, is the "what I want" question. There are some definite conflicts in my mind about what is appropriate to want, OK to want, NOT OK to want, and just FUCKING STUPID to want. I think that until I find ME, I am going to continue to be in conflict...to look back on things I said or did and say to myself: "Who the FUCK was that guy???" Until I come to some understanding with my own mind, I am going to continue to have to deal with unwanted desires and thoughts (NO, nothing illegal or hurtful to anyone....except the assholes who have fucked with me).
For instance, I can remember some of the worst digusting physical feelings from my childhood experiences (no one really wants to know those things!!!)...yet I want, and DO think about crazy sex all day. I LOVE Porn and woman...and even get turned on (SERIOUSLY) by certain groupsex ideas. I was forced to clean up "messes" after sex when I was a kid. WTF????? I hate Iraq, and I hate the shit that happened there. Yet, there are days that I would LOVE, give my left nut, beg and plead, to be able to go back. To put that battle-rattle back on and to chamber a round in my M-16 (much better for longer-range targets than the M-4, in my book) and take up watch or clear a house or even escort the trucks that empty the shitters.
So apparently, my fantasies and desires and wants can, and often do, conflict drastically with the traumas in my life. It would be so nice to just be a "normal" person....to be able to just have whatever kind of sex my wife wants and not be such a pervert with her (except for the things she likes)...to NOT dream and think about going back to Iraq...to NOT long for the feel of the heat or the ride in the truck out the wire.
I hope, wonder, and pray that getting through this PE therapy, as well as practicing the Mindfullness and CPT tools will help me to center myself on normalcy and not on freakish things. Otherwise, I should just move to a town like San Fran and take up with the freaks there...see how twisted I am????? Or maybe hop a flight to Baghdad and see what happens there???? NO...I have to BELIEVE that things will get better. The alternative is crappy, at best!!!!!!!
Friday, May 27, 2011
Long overdue Check-In
So it's been like seven months since I have remembered, or found time, to post anything on here. However, I have been doing a LOT of writing in journal that my doc has had me start using. I think I will start working on transferring that chicken scratch to this place so I can get rid of the hard copies at home.
Where I am at since my last post:
Things have been a lot better since last November. I did a lot of work through CPT with the Doc regarding the trauma from Iraq.
...Then I started a modified form of PE with the Doc regarding what she had termed CSA(Childhood Sexual Abuse). This has actually been much, much more painful AND difficult than the work on the Iraq trauma.
There have been some seriously strange side-effects of this therapy, for lack of a better term.
- Really bad dreams, some which are an inter-mingling of Iraq and one of the three separate CSAincidents.
- The realization that I hate myself almost 24/7 for the guilt that I carry from both Iraq trauma and some of the particular CSA.
- The remembrance of the some of the most painful (emotional AND physical) memories of my life
- The remembrance of a time when I had actually planned, and (the part I didn't tell the Doc) started to carry out my suicide. (I got lucky that I passed out before doing anything irreversible, even if I passed out only because I was waiting for my wife to come home so I could "finish" it)
It is so strange, and very fucking frustrating to me that I have these memories of major events or decisions in my life, and that I have apparently gotten exceptionally good and pushing these fuckers so deep I forget about them until some unknown trigger brings them back.
Some GREAT News:
my friend Shane is out of Jail after a long stay on some bullshit charges from a crackhead DA and an estranged spouse. But, he's home with probation only on misdemeanors as the new DA dropped/reduced the felony charges!!!!
WELCOME HOME BROTHER!
Where I am at since my last post:
Things have been a lot better since last November. I did a lot of work through CPT with the Doc regarding the trauma from Iraq.
...Then I started a modified form of PE with the Doc regarding what she had termed CSA(Childhood Sexual Abuse). This has actually been much, much more painful AND difficult than the work on the Iraq trauma.
There have been some seriously strange side-effects of this therapy, for lack of a better term.
- Really bad dreams, some which are an inter-mingling of Iraq and one of the three separate CSAincidents.
- The realization that I hate myself almost 24/7 for the guilt that I carry from both Iraq trauma and some of the particular CSA.
- The remembrance of the some of the most painful (emotional AND physical) memories of my life
- The remembrance of a time when I had actually planned, and (the part I didn't tell the Doc) started to carry out my suicide. (I got lucky that I passed out before doing anything irreversible, even if I passed out only because I was waiting for my wife to come home so I could "finish" it)
It is so strange, and very fucking frustrating to me that I have these memories of major events or decisions in my life, and that I have apparently gotten exceptionally good and pushing these fuckers so deep I forget about them until some unknown trigger brings them back.
Some GREAT News:
my friend Shane is out of Jail after a long stay on some bullshit charges from a crackhead DA and an estranged spouse. But, he's home with probation only on misdemeanors as the new DA dropped/reduced the felony charges!!!!
WELCOME HOME BROTHER!
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