It's bad enough that non-verbal mediums that are used for communication have the distinct drawback of not being able to convey the emotion or mentality of the comment/speaker...or the listener. But when I couple this with all of the things I struggle with on a daily (hourly, or by the minute even) basis, it sometimes just makes my life shit. Complete and total and utter SHIT!!!! There are distinct reasons why I haven't killed myself when the pain inside and/or the guilt and self-hatred has become unbearable. Those reasons matter...a LOT. And I know that my life matters so at this point I have no intention of ending. Quite the opposite actually...I want/need to make my life better. Not my job or home or even family...nope...MY LIFE.
The day to day, hour to hour hell that I cycle in and out of on a random frequency; this is what I need to change. I need to find a way to start this change. :-(
What I know I need to do when my head gets fucked up or I get to amped:
- BREATHE...BREATHE...BREATHE. Mindfulness breathing...or at least how I think it's supposed to be done
- Talk with myself. Remember where I really am. Who I am with. What we are doing.
- Move around. Don't just sit there going in a downward spiral
- Try to shift focus. A point on the wall. Lyrics to a song I like. A task. Be careful here....this leads me to 80 hour work weeks.
- Write. Writing helps me. I know this. Why have I gotten lazy about this?
---WHAT ELSE can I add to this? What things can I learn to do automatically that will allow me to NOT get into those places like I am in this week.
What I know I need to work on with people around me:
- Remember who I am in each situation. What's my role in regards to who's around me...coworker, spouse, father, patient, customer, inquisitor?
- Remember that my wife CAN be very supportive and helpful...but I MUST be willing to share it with her. I have gotten better here I think. Somethings are just TOO hard to say out loud to ANYONE, even if they are driving me towards a dangerous precipice. The next hurdle with her will be the marriage counseling and if she actually goes. Bad news if she doesn't, but I think she will. I think she does, somewhere/time love me as much as I love her. I would hate for my marriage to her to end because of her bullshit temper or my crappy fucked up brain.
- Remember that I have friends with similar experiences. I DON'T have to agree with them always, but I can bounce shit off of them AND be there for them.
- Remember that my Doc isn't my "personal" Doc and they have other patients. I cannot monopolize all of her time with emails, texts, etc. I do think I have gotten a lot better here, although the dynamic has really seemed strange between us for a bit of time now. I am choosing to believe, most of the time, that it is because she is busy. However, I struggle a lot with the possibilities of: she's fucking tired of my bitch-ass, she thinks I am a piece of shit, she thinks I have gotten "too attached" to her (or maybe the other way, but I doubt that), she's overly frustrated with a lot of things and my annoying her just make me a target of her anger sometimes, etc.
What I know I need to work on in my brain:
- A LOT
- My focus. I have to maintain my focus...use that discipline I USED to have.
- Proper AND Pertinent thoughts. In addition to focus, I really need to work on not having the improper thoughts (and no not just sexual ones), but also to work on actually having the proper ones. Maybe some ADD here trying to fight with some OCD? WTFK's???
What do I know:
- I know my wife loves me and wants to help me
- I know I love my wife and will not just up and leave her for anyone else. IF the marriage were to ever end, then it would end only after every option was exhausted and because her and I just stopped getting along at all.
- I know my kids are my life. I need to not be so hard on them, or at least in a negative way.
- I didn't kill those people in Iraq, directly or indirectly
- I didn't ask those people to rape me or to degrade me or use me against anyone else
- Physical arousal is NOT the same thing as real arousal...a hard on doesn't mean the thought turns ME on...just that my body is having a normal reaction given the context.
- I know I do need someone to hold my hand a LOT more in recent months...and I am kinda OK with that. Although, as I think is above somewhere, I really have been feeling like the Doc is just tired of it.
- I know it's not my fault that my ex-friend hacked some of my accounts and tried starting some shit. I think, but I really have no proof, that this is what caused my buddy S to quit talking to me all together.
- I know I have to be willing to take more risks to trust more people.
- I know that I have to go back to being much more direct with people. I don't know when I started trying to be "nicer" to everone...but with the exception of my wife and kids, I think the damn gloves need to come back off and I need to be the direct guy I used to be.
Thursday, October 27, 2011
Monday, October 24, 2011
Sometimes Friends Hurt More than Help!!!!
I wanted to post this the other night...and probably should have just to vent since I haven't been able to write in my journal since then either. What happened was innocous, stupid! I made a comment about a chic that a friend had been seeing...I guess I kinda had/have a crush on her since I have this huge weekness for brunettes with glasses...but who doesn't, right?
Anyway, I made a comment about how hot she was or something along those lines. Apparently this was all he needed to start to tell me a story of one of their encounters. I could have cared less. Except when he started saying that she got miffed at him because he wouldn't let her go down on him, I called bullshit. I mean, I think I am pretty fucked up when it comes to sex, especially since EVERY time I have it anymore, I have to fight the memories of the screwed up shit from childhood away. However, when I am not being haunted by those events and those fucktards, I enjoy a blowjob as much as the next guy...and I told him this. I told him this thinking it would be more of a joke, especially since I was dropping him off and I just wanted to go home. However, I guess it wasn't!
He didn't get mad, which struck me as odd. He did say that he has never enjoyed them because of something in his past...this was news to me and I immediately thought that I might have found someone who understands this shit from having experienced that hell. I mean my Doc's the best, but I don't think she's had to go through anything like this, thank God! So I was kind of happy he said that in a selfish way, and I somewhat blurted that I had not 1 but 3 different trips to HELL as a kid. Before I could re-iterate that I do in fact like a good BJ (when my heads no in Hell!), he piped up that I should understand then...that anyone who goes through that involuntarily, especially a guy, doesn't like sex that much or at least not oral. I couldn't believe that! I didn't really argue though as now I just wanted to RUN. All the self-doubt and self-guilt and pain came back like THAT! Did I ask for this to happen??? No I don't think so! And I KNOW that and have WORKED on that! But him saying that was like telling me I was either lying about the events or that I must have wanted it in some way! What really made me mad when I got to thinking was that somewhere in there I mentioned a book that the Doc had recommended for male survivors of childhood sexual trauma/abuse. He said he HAD the same book and had already read the whole thing (which is more than I can say for me since the Doc slowed me down on things).
I don't think he was trying to say what I heard. Quite frankly he has a story for every last damn thing under the sun...so I was doubting him from the start. However, and this is the shitty part, it's been EATING me since that night. I was in SUCH a GOOD (not Great, but good) place until he said that!
Anyway, I made a comment about how hot she was or something along those lines. Apparently this was all he needed to start to tell me a story of one of their encounters. I could have cared less. Except when he started saying that she got miffed at him because he wouldn't let her go down on him, I called bullshit. I mean, I think I am pretty fucked up when it comes to sex, especially since EVERY time I have it anymore, I have to fight the memories of the screwed up shit from childhood away. However, when I am not being haunted by those events and those fucktards, I enjoy a blowjob as much as the next guy...and I told him this. I told him this thinking it would be more of a joke, especially since I was dropping him off and I just wanted to go home. However, I guess it wasn't!
He didn't get mad, which struck me as odd. He did say that he has never enjoyed them because of something in his past...this was news to me and I immediately thought that I might have found someone who understands this shit from having experienced that hell. I mean my Doc's the best, but I don't think she's had to go through anything like this, thank God! So I was kind of happy he said that in a selfish way, and I somewhat blurted that I had not 1 but 3 different trips to HELL as a kid. Before I could re-iterate that I do in fact like a good BJ (when my heads no in Hell!), he piped up that I should understand then...that anyone who goes through that involuntarily, especially a guy, doesn't like sex that much or at least not oral. I couldn't believe that! I didn't really argue though as now I just wanted to RUN. All the self-doubt and self-guilt and pain came back like THAT! Did I ask for this to happen??? No I don't think so! And I KNOW that and have WORKED on that! But him saying that was like telling me I was either lying about the events or that I must have wanted it in some way! What really made me mad when I got to thinking was that somewhere in there I mentioned a book that the Doc had recommended for male survivors of childhood sexual trauma/abuse. He said he HAD the same book and had already read the whole thing (which is more than I can say for me since the Doc slowed me down on things).
I don't think he was trying to say what I heard. Quite frankly he has a story for every last damn thing under the sun...so I was doubting him from the start. However, and this is the shitty part, it's been EATING me since that night. I was in SUCH a GOOD (not Great, but good) place until he said that!
Saturday, October 22, 2011
This was on a friends Facebook page today:
Dear VA,
Thank you so very much. I appreciate that the kid u assigned to draw my blood this morning was BRAND NEW to needles...much less actually using them. I also appreciate that it takes years to be denied a claim for the exact SAME thing the Army said didn't allow me to stay in uniform. But most of all this morning...I appreciate that despite a high serviced-connection rating, you not only bill the insurance company provided by my employer, but that you take an hour and a half to fill a prescription. This time spent waiting is great! I can watch all the unemployed/retired vets sign for their medicine and then...wait for it....STAY RIGHT HERE AND SOCIALIZE. This is awesome, and I get it. Putting 30 little pills in a bottle is hard and since my service connection AND my insurance pay for them, it only makes sense that I should be made to wait in order to assure quality of your efforts and my money's worth!
I love that I have served my country in 2 different branches including war and now I get to do the same as I have been sitting here so long I am thinking a paycheck will be sent to me from you, while probably ticking off my boss, in a civillian uniform.
Ever so slightly annoyed,
ME
Thank you so very much. I appreciate that the kid u assigned to draw my blood this morning was BRAND NEW to needles...much less actually using them. I also appreciate that it takes years to be denied a claim for the exact SAME thing the Army said didn't allow me to stay in uniform. But most of all this morning...I appreciate that despite a high serviced-connection rating, you not only bill the insurance company provided by my employer, but that you take an hour and a half to fill a prescription. This time spent waiting is great! I can watch all the unemployed/retired vets sign for their medicine and then...wait for it....STAY RIGHT HERE AND SOCIALIZE. This is awesome, and I get it. Putting 30 little pills in a bottle is hard and since my service connection AND my insurance pay for them, it only makes sense that I should be made to wait in order to assure quality of your efforts and my money's worth!
I love that I have served my country in 2 different branches including war and now I get to do the same as I have been sitting here so long I am thinking a paycheck will be sent to me from you, while probably ticking off my boss, in a civillian uniform.
Ever so slightly annoyed,
ME
--letter end---
How many times can the VA Fuck up??? Why in the name of God is it allowed to continue? Is it just because of the size of the VA? Or is it because of the are my VA is in? I get this letter, and it sounds very similar to my own experiences. At the VA around here, it's bullshit!!! If I didn't like any of my Doc's, I probably wouldn't even fucking go!!! I wonder if the problem with the VA isn't actually an issue based on the actual quality (or dare I say lack thereof) of the veterans themselves, the simple fact that the VA is a HUGE government cesspool, or some combination thereof. I don't normally complain about other vets in general...unless they really fucking piss me off!
I will complain about this though: The reverse-racism is so fucking bad in this town that it is even very noticable at times with some of the pieces of shit that work at the VA here. I have the utmost respect for the boys and girls from earlier wars and the shit that they went through, ESPECIALLY the vets from 'Nam. However, that does not mean that I feel that I have to kiss their fucking ass just because they are Veitnam Vets and and black, whereas I am younger and whiter than them! It's 2011...how about everyone, black, white, or otherwise...just get the FUCK OFF of the minority rights shit. I mean really, if it happened 200 years ago...it didn't personally happen to you. So deal with what DID actually happen to you, live in peace with others, don't antagonize when possible, and GET THE FUCK OFF OF THE RACIAL SOAPBOXES!!!
Thursday, October 20, 2011
Missed family support group today...BUMMER
Another reason why I don't do a lot to make this blog public is so I can somewhat write about my group and therapy and the people around me who piss me off...and I am not announcing anyone's business!
Sometimes though I wish I could make this public and include my fellow vets. Not that I have anything of value to offer them...but I know other's can offer good advice and tell me where I am fucking up. It's the opinions and lessons learned of the other vets, especially the Vietnam vets I've grown close to in group, those opinions that I have learned to really listen to. The Doc is awesome, but my fellow vets really put a point on a lot of things and basically drive home the things the Doc says in session and in group.
Today was family support group. Today I was actually going to "shanghai" my wife a little bit. The format of the group has changed from being vets with spouses to vets and spouses. Family group has changed to where the vets go with one therapist to a different room and the spouses (all women in this group) meet with the Doc. My wife doesn't know that this is a set-in-stone change, and due to the recent (over a year) issues of us trying to work things out (or at least me trying to be better while putting up with her fucked up temper), I think it would be good for her to be in that room and see what the other wives have to say. Granted, they are all at least 20 years older then her...but that to me sounds like experience. I also think that the Doc might actually lead some of the coversation towards a generalization of the major issue I have been having with my wife...at least she's done it to me in therapy about other things.
I doesn't matter now though. The wife was sick and the kids were home early and the job needed me there later than I needed to leave to make group. I am sad I missed it though. I miss those guys and hanging out with them...sharing shit and going through stuff. I have only been to a couple of groups since July and our quarterly outing was cancelled due to an emergency.
But...I am feeling OK today! :-)
Sometimes though I wish I could make this public and include my fellow vets. Not that I have anything of value to offer them...but I know other's can offer good advice and tell me where I am fucking up. It's the opinions and lessons learned of the other vets, especially the Vietnam vets I've grown close to in group, those opinions that I have learned to really listen to. The Doc is awesome, but my fellow vets really put a point on a lot of things and basically drive home the things the Doc says in session and in group.
Today was family support group. Today I was actually going to "shanghai" my wife a little bit. The format of the group has changed from being vets with spouses to vets and spouses. Family group has changed to where the vets go with one therapist to a different room and the spouses (all women in this group) meet with the Doc. My wife doesn't know that this is a set-in-stone change, and due to the recent (over a year) issues of us trying to work things out (or at least me trying to be better while putting up with her fucked up temper), I think it would be good for her to be in that room and see what the other wives have to say. Granted, they are all at least 20 years older then her...but that to me sounds like experience. I also think that the Doc might actually lead some of the coversation towards a generalization of the major issue I have been having with my wife...at least she's done it to me in therapy about other things.
I doesn't matter now though. The wife was sick and the kids were home early and the job needed me there later than I needed to leave to make group. I am sad I missed it though. I miss those guys and hanging out with them...sharing shit and going through stuff. I have only been to a couple of groups since July and our quarterly outing was cancelled due to an emergency.
But...I am feeling OK today! :-)
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.
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