Today was pretty good. It was really good I would say actually, with the exception of being very tired, hurting my back pretty back, and fighting the urge to "go back" to Iraq, as well as my childhood :-( in my mind. Anyway, I figured instead of falling asleep, I would write this while I waited to get ready to go learn how to work the sound system at the church.
A group I am a member of had a function today at a state park. Most everyone was there, which was really cool. The Doc and the rec therapist both seemed strange, seeing Shane was pretty awesome, as was his guitar and songs, and seeing everyone else was great! It was great to have someone other than the Doc and Vietnam vets to talk with. Don't get me wrong, I have NOTHING but respect for ALL vets, but talking with someone from your own generation and from the same was as you...that's a little bit easier for me to open up anyway. Plus, although we have different stories, I think Shane and I have a lot of the same charactor traits which caused us to beat the shit out of ourselves over a lot of things!
I will say that I was nervous about possible incidents with one person due to what has appeard to be a split in the group as to some information and beliefs. Also, there is a guy in group that as soon as he raises his hands and voice in anger, it just takes me back to a horrible place. So I was a little apprehensive when I first saw him there, but got over it pretty quickly. Of course we kind of inadvertently stayed away from the main group due to letting the kids go swimming, so that worked out OK in that regard.
One thing I talked about with Shane and that has been on my mind as of late is Suicide. No...I do not wish to commit suicide. However, we did talk about the memories being buried so well and then haunting you later which did happen to me regarding suicide a few years ago now. The thing that I know scares the shit out of me is: If I had the thought and the plan once, it is possible for me to get in a such a bad state mentally and that I could have the same kind of thoughts and plans. That wieghs pretty heavy on me right now!
I don't believe in suicide. I have been saying that for years. Doug trying when I was in middle school followed by others succeeding, as well as my mother's own many many attempts. It used to be, until I rememberd my own plan, that I would just talk very hateful and insulting about those who tried it, whether they succeeded or not. How humbling it was to recall that I had a plan of involving a lot a of prescription narcotics and alcohol. Nothing like an OD to fix problems right? WRONG. That night I remembered being pissed that my wife wasn't going to make it back from where she was...and I was not going to do anything with my kids there without her being home. What if they needed something or got hurt, even if it was after bedtime when I was planning on doing this. Thank God that my wife didn't make it home that night, or I wouldn't be here today. And now, knowing that I, the guy who was a complete ASSHOLE to anyone about suicide, had a plan to do it myself..that is humbling and scary.
I think now too that maybe I had been suicidal for a long time and was just in denial or calling it by different names. That's why I think I owe my wife, my few friends, and the Doc (who I think of as one of my best friends...but VA ethics and all...stupid! ). I owe my life to those who put up with me, who wouldn't take my shit, but who have also shown patience. I don't recall having had a plan to kill myself after that night. However, I do recall MANY times before the last 12 months or so that I just really wanted to be dead. The thoughts like: if a semi would just crash into me, or, if these hairclippers cut my neck on accident....stupid shit like that...passive suicidal thoughts maybe??? Not sure, but they still scared me. And the fact that I ever got to that piont makes me extra worried, but a worry based on vigilance or early-warning watch, that I could go back there easily.
It is just funny to me how my thought processes have ALL gotten jacked up since the summer I left the Army. If it wasn't for the therapy and the Doc putting up with my shit, I know for a fact that one or more of the following would be true: I'd be dead, I'd be divorced, I wouldn't have my kids with me, I'd be flipping burgers in some town up north instead of doing what I am good at, or I'd have moved in with some old ex-girlfriend or hooker just because it would be a relationship with no emotional ties, or I'd have never bought a second house or changed jobs. I guess, my thought process was, and still is somewhat, so jacked up that with PTSD therapy and a Doc that gives a shit (I think so anyway), I would have gotten more and more afraid of everything and I would have just run away or found a way to die without committing suicide.
As for homocide...can't think of any plans there! Fratricide (spelled right even??)..definitely no plans there as I would lay down my life for my brothers and family. However, pesticide got me today to, at least in the form of stepping on a ton of spiders. lol
Showing posts with label Memories. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Memories. Show all posts
Thursday, June 9, 2011
Monday, June 6, 2011
Remembering Myself and good things...and bad things too!
Today was a decent...maybe even really good session. I was feeling ok prior to going but the Doc was a little mean today. I think she said she wasn't put up with any of us "deflectors" today and reminded me of a guy I know who does the same thing I do: run my smartass mouth to avoid things in the moment, pressure, fear, etc
The Doc was dissapointed in the Challenging worksheets I did over the last few days. I was at first kind of mad in her judgement that I didn't do anything. However, we worked through one together and it was actually a pretty awesome thing. Somewhere in the tough questions and rough answers, the Doc articulated what I was starting to realize: I NEVER thank/remember/appreciate myself! I have completely discounted the fact that I have done some pretty tough, and deep therapy over the last 18 months. It was this realization that also provided an epiphany regarding one of my stuck points: I am afraid of other things I might recall and that a memory may come back and just completely brake me mentally...permenantly. However, the fact that I have been able to work some pretty fucked memories already, that I am still alive, and that I am not completely broken....I feel really good about handling any other future memories that may surface.
I felt really, really good about that and my attitude improved internally immediately!!!
However, I got to thinking, and rambling (actually feel bad for the Doc for having to listen to me). I started thinking about a particularly horrible time and got to thinking about why my parents never knew what was going on...ever. Especially during the later times. I had realized that I was just pissed about that, at my mom the most, that she never knew or protected me. My dad was never there anyway, but my mom was. I can't be too mad at her becuase, as the Doc walked me through, my mom had her own issues and fears and trauma to work through.
So kind of a mixed blessing today with the session. The epiphany was extremely nice...helpful...and took a shitload of anxiety away. The memory rambling was really shitty...I had to hold my back my tears, although I probably should have let them go. Not sure why I didn't becuase Lord knows I fucking need to!
The Doc was dissapointed in the Challenging worksheets I did over the last few days. I was at first kind of mad in her judgement that I didn't do anything. However, we worked through one together and it was actually a pretty awesome thing. Somewhere in the tough questions and rough answers, the Doc articulated what I was starting to realize: I NEVER thank/remember/appreciate myself! I have completely discounted the fact that I have done some pretty tough, and deep therapy over the last 18 months. It was this realization that also provided an epiphany regarding one of my stuck points: I am afraid of other things I might recall and that a memory may come back and just completely brake me mentally...permenantly. However, the fact that I have been able to work some pretty fucked memories already, that I am still alive, and that I am not completely broken....I feel really good about handling any other future memories that may surface.
I felt really, really good about that and my attitude improved internally immediately!!!
However, I got to thinking, and rambling (actually feel bad for the Doc for having to listen to me). I started thinking about a particularly horrible time and got to thinking about why my parents never knew what was going on...ever. Especially during the later times. I had realized that I was just pissed about that, at my mom the most, that she never knew or protected me. My dad was never there anyway, but my mom was. I can't be too mad at her becuase, as the Doc walked me through, my mom had her own issues and fears and trauma to work through.
So kind of a mixed blessing today with the session. The epiphany was extremely nice...helpful...and took a shitload of anxiety away. The memory rambling was really shitty...I had to hold my back my tears, although I probably should have let them go. Not sure why I didn't becuase Lord knows I fucking need to!
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!
Saturday, November 13, 2010
Veteran's Day
Holy Crap Man! I let my shrink talk me into going to the Veteran's Day Parade here! It was probably good for my kids to be there...but not so good for me to be there!
To start things off, the "Marshall" of the parade was my Brigade Commander from when I was in Iraq! Not really a big deal you say? Maybe...except I seriously associate this guy with the memory of one PX exploding and with the fact that our unit just didn't take care of it's Soldiers...not sure if that was a Battalion thing or a Brigade thing, but the Company blamed him. Either way, him leading the parade was nothing but a trigger for my memories of Iraq.
Then...of all the damn things you could do at a Veteran's Parade...the friggin Fire Trucks had to run their sirens...somewhat reminiscent of the siren sound for incoming.
Unfortunately I let all this crap run my head, my emotions, my being. I spent the rest of the day in and out of hell, made a bunch of smartass comments to my shrink (and I think she is now OFFICIALLY annoyed with me, permanently), and just hated life the whole day!
My doc reminded me on Friday about breathing, mindfulness...and just not going down the F'ing rabbit hole. She was right, but the day before sucked. The therapy has been helping, but I failed to apply ANYTHING I learned and I suffered for it all day!
On another note: after at least a year of fighting it, I agreed to try an anti-depressant. That was a great idea! Actually, I owe that one to the Doc too. She told me she couldn't believe I made it this long without it, and with all of the other things she has been right about, I decided to try it. WOW...what a change!!!
To start things off, the "Marshall" of the parade was my Brigade Commander from when I was in Iraq! Not really a big deal you say? Maybe...except I seriously associate this guy with the memory of one PX exploding and with the fact that our unit just didn't take care of it's Soldiers...not sure if that was a Battalion thing or a Brigade thing, but the Company blamed him. Either way, him leading the parade was nothing but a trigger for my memories of Iraq.
Then...of all the damn things you could do at a Veteran's Parade...the friggin Fire Trucks had to run their sirens...somewhat reminiscent of the siren sound for incoming.
Unfortunately I let all this crap run my head, my emotions, my being. I spent the rest of the day in and out of hell, made a bunch of smartass comments to my shrink (and I think she is now OFFICIALLY annoyed with me, permanently), and just hated life the whole day!
My doc reminded me on Friday about breathing, mindfulness...and just not going down the F'ing rabbit hole. She was right, but the day before sucked. The therapy has been helping, but I failed to apply ANYTHING I learned and I suffered for it all day!
On another note: after at least a year of fighting it, I agreed to try an anti-depressant. That was a great idea! Actually, I owe that one to the Doc too. She told me she couldn't believe I made it this long without it, and with all of the other things she has been right about, I decided to try it. WOW...what a change!!!
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