(For) Better (or Worse???)

I think that therapy, both the interaction with the therapist, and the individual work, are a lot like a marriage...without all the hassle of fights, sex, jealousy, etc.) I don't mean to say that it is only good things, just that I can see a correlation between these two parts of therapy (individually), and marriage.

In marriage, there has to be, MUST be, a relationship of trust and commonality (or some other foundation to foster communication). In therapy, there is NO way it's going to work without trust AND a foundation for communication. I have read a lot in the last year about therapy and, quite frankly, I am more and more convinced that I made the right choice in sticking with my current Doc...even when I struggle with feeling like she's ready to "divorce" me.

One of the topics I read about was that of choosing a therapist. This is no easy task...at least it wasn't for me. I talked with a Doc about possibly getting a referral to an Anger Management class. Imagine my surprise when he said that I had PTSD. THEN, I had to have two other doctors "look" at me (no including the doctor picked by the VA for my CMP check), and THEN had to wait for a fucking phone call. The Doc I have is actually the one who called me, but she called to tell me that my choices were limited to females, and to interns at that. At the time, I felt that I had to stick to my guns on two requirements: the therapist HAD to be a male AND the therapist had to be around for awhile. A female intern obviously wan't going to work at that time.

So, much like choosing a life partner, you have to maintain some level of standards. Some contradiction here also parallels life's reality....I didn't get what I thought I wanted and the one I thought would NOT be a good choice ended up being the absolute best. I kind of liken this to my marriages. In my first marriage, I got exactly what I wanted...and it was HELL. In my current marriage, I had NO intention of marrying her. Hell, she was supposed to be a one-night stand and for whatever reason she continued to call me to come over...and that was over 13 years ago. As with my wife, I didn't see anyway that the Doc could be useful long term. I figured she'd be OK as a 'stand-in' until someone meeting my requirements became available.

I think another way that I have to liken my therapy as a whole to the marriage, or at least the relationship process, is in terms of impatience. After I lost my virginity (the time I was willing and with someone I loved), I wanted sex all the time...maybe even too much. I didn't know it then but I think I was basing all of my actions on what was expected of me as a kid. So much so that when my first wife I would have sucked some dude's dick just to make her happy...even when she had used my telling her a little I remembered about my CSA, against me. But I have digressed. After loosing my virginity (and before) I don't think that until the last few years that I didn't FEEL a need for sex ALL the time. Even when I wasn't horny, I just knew I needed a release. So, I would masturbate at an average minumum of four times a day...even if I was in a sexual relationship. (the masturbation wasn't always about sexual relief...at least 60% of the time it wasn't...or still isn't). Much like, well...very much like my overly needy desire to have sex, to include some of the shit I was willing to do for that relief, it's the same with my my desire to seek treatment.

I KNEW that if I didn't see a Doctor soon, that I would be done. I had already half-tried to kill myself once and had thought about it more than once since then. But I had a STRONG urge to get help. What I had thought of earlier on was only a sever issue with my temper had turned out to be PTSD, I knew my thoughts and my mental state were spiralling down quickly. I had a STRONG, hourly, urge to get help...a different, non-sexual,  type of relief. So I think that this is very similar too...my desire for physical/emotional relief and my desire for emotional/mental led in different directions but certainly felt and manifested in similar ways (not making any jokes about genitalia here).

I am sure that anyone in therapy for similar issues, and especially those going through the CPT or PE protocols/treatments probably alreay knows all of these comparisons. I just myself though realized it, although I don''t know how I could have missed the correlation earler!

Like marriage, therapy and a working/WORKABLE/HELPFUL relationship with your therapist require:
- patience AND standards during your search
- a desire to get better
- Communication about what's working AND what's not working
- Persistentce to stick with it. Therapy, like marriage, can be very taxing and without some strength to make it

In any event, I think I have a great wife and a decent marriage. I also think that I have the best Doc in the VA system. I wish I could list her name here and sing her praises. I've had to work at both relationships but, and this is important, when I started to include my wife in my treatment....at least with letting her in a little more....that really, REALLY provided some support I needed to percivere in my therapy!!!

Good times today...no homocide, suicide, fratricide, or pesticide! :-)

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

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!