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!