Trauma Anniversary....Remember those who gave all

Recently, the anniversary of one of my traumatic events from Iraq passed. I had tried, on another blog, to write about this event in some general terms while paying respect to those who's death I felt for a long time to be responsible for. Through some hard, and sometimes painful work in CPT, I was able to let go of a large chunk of that guilt and shame and I felt it was a okay time work more towards honoring those who died. However, that post and a couple of others apparently really angered some people, and I had allowed their responses to get to me so much that I took down the blog. I might write more about this later. However, I think it's more important to actually do the right thing here first, and that is to honor those whom we have lost.
I won't use names or dates, or even places here on this blog. This is both out of respect as well as out of the need for some privacy in my life.

There was a day that seemed like all the other shitty days in Iraq. I had to go to the company area and I made some stops along the way. One of these stops was an area where a lot of other soldiers where. While I was there, I talked to a couple of different soldiers about numerous things. Two of the ones I talked to the longest, they were pretty cool guys. They both had future plans, were tired of being away from their families and were just doing their thing. However, after talking with both of them, I left to go over to the company...a short walk of maybe two minutes. After getting to the company, I stood at the back door and fired up a smoke. After maybe two drags, the hell rained down where i had just been. Those two soldiers, and some others, were killed by some asshole insurgents. For a long time I struggled with the belief that I was directly responsible for their deaths because I had held them up for so long talking. That guilt really ate me up inside and was the second or third worst guilty feeling I have ever struggled with. In any event, my guilt is nothing compared to the price that they had to pay

These soldiers and too many others quite frankly, paid heavy and in this case ultimate prices. They were doing their job and working at supporting their country and their familes. They had dreams and plans and fears and hopes. They may have even had their own guilts that they were trying to work through. The didn't get to live through any of those things. Instead, they died. Killed by some assholes!

They are gone physically but I know that they live on my heart and the hearts of their family and friends. They were Soldiers, sons, a father, a fiance.but most of all they were Americans. May I never forget, may we never forget, these Americans gave their lives.

Who Am I???? WTF????

Original post edited for multiple reasons.

I think one of the biggest things that I struggle with right now is: Who the FUCK am I????? I don't seem to know any more. Compounding the issues releated to PTSD is the fact that I apparently have some of the signs of being Bi-Polar and my grandmother had alzhiemers. Seems as though brain problems run in the family!
< Had a really good talk with the Doc about this at my last appointment. Learned a few important things that don't make me feel so worried about possible mental deterioration:
1. I am past the age where I need to worry about schizophrenia
2. My mother being Bi-Polar doesn't mean I will be/I am...it's NOT genetic
<>
But, who am I???Who the hell is this person I have become, am becoming still? I used to have a pretty good cockiness about me and not be afraid of anything or anyone. I was never a "ladies" man, but I never had to go long without getting laid...and had some HILARIOUS stories along the way...like the one about how a pussy[cat] ruined my chances of getting...welll you know...from this really beautiful college girl. But I digress...I was strong, not emotional, and DECISIVE!!! And I NEVER looked back (excpet for the rough divorce I had many moons ago).
Who have I become:
1) I seem to be afaid of my own shadow, most loud noises, QUIT, solititude, and crowds!!!
2) I don't know what I like most of the time, other than the shit I have been eating or doing for years
3) I would (A LOT of the time) rather not have sex with my wife. Not because of her because I do find her sexy and a lot of fun. More because of the errors in my brain.
4) When I do have sex with my wife, it's always great. However, I am either overly  aggressive (no...not beating her) or way too emotional (to the point that I want to "crawl" inside her entire being.
5) I second-guess EVERYTHING ANYONE says, especially those who are my friends, family, people I love, or people I just care about. By second-guessing EVERYTHING, I mean EVERY LAST FUCKING THING. For example, a text I received the other day (on a day full of some incredible news) ended with "Bye now." The conversation was fairly innocent, dealing soley with the aforementioned good news of a friend. I had already sent "TTYL"...but "Bye now" has bugged me ever since. I think it has to do more with projections and mind-reading, but I am also 100% certain that I do in fact bug the person that I was texting with.
6) My focus is shot! I have been called a bulldog becuase I will track shit down to the end. And I can still do this, but ONLY with a higher purpose than normal, AND with someone else either right there, or just egging me on. My school homework is a GREAT example. I have a TON of shit due this week. However, instead of using even 70% of the abundant free time I have actually had in the last four days, I have wasted most of that time looking at old grindhouse movies (you know, the horror ones, AND the basically/literally X-rated ones). Chastising myself over and over and over again has not helped. Even tonight, with something due an hour ago...there I was, downloading grindhouse movies...and the assignment is now late.
7) My memory....this scares me the most. I have the hardest time with my short term memory even now. I have to try to make some association immediately to whatever it is I am trying to remember. However, I can recall what chics where wearing when I first met them. Now I can't seem to go a day without having to stop over 50% of my conversations and TRY to remember what the FUCK I was just saying!!! To make matters WAY worse, I have recently remembered things that honestly make no sense that I ever forgot. For instance, I recalled last week that a few years ago, when the PTSD symptons really started hitting me, that I had a solid and painless plan to end my life. It was just dumb-fucking luck that my wife wasn't going to be home as intended....I was too guilty to leave little kids alone with a dead dad in the house. Seriously, how the fuck could I have ever forgotten that!!!! That's like forgetting that you did things you shouldn't have ever done!!! (which I have also done). How many other things have a I forgotten??????????????

Overall, I believe in the therapy process, and I believe in my Doc. Quite frankly, although I am convinced that she erronously thinks (and worries) I view things on a romantic/cruch/sexual level with her sometimes, she really is like the best or second best friend I have....just too bad that we (the wife and I) can't ever have her over due to stupid VA ethics. I digress again though. My faith and trust in both the Doc and the Process is why I have stuck this shit out the last 18 mos. Seems like other veterans, who definitely had worse experiences, seem to be able to move on quicker, which is what really frustrates me. I know that a lot of it is the fact that the new stuff we are working on is the childhood sexual trauma, so it would not be too far fetched that my brain is just reminding me of other trauma's that had/have the SHAME/GUILT/PAIN/ABUSE tags attached, and intermingling these events.

In any event, I am just ranting tonight. Very tired and stressed and in a LOT of pain. I hope to have a session this week, as I think I need it, but we'll see what the future holds for that one. Basically, I just miss the old me.

Another thing I wanted to write about, and I will have to do it later, is: Chasing the Numb Feeling. It's a miracle that alcohol and prescirption drugs haven't killed me yet, nor has speed or my mouth. BUT I do just wish I could be numb. I have been unable to cry so I have not been able to emotionally dump a lot of baggage. But I will go into this one more at a later date!