Is there anyone here, who does not have PTSI(D)? | #PTSDchat
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Is there anyone here, who does not have PTSI(D)?

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Monday, May 08, 2017

21:52

I have a condition and I don’t like it! I don’t like the way that it makes me feel, and also the way in which it sometimes makes me NOT feel!

How the hell am I expected to define this feeling of confused emotional entrapment, when I am lost in its tempest myself?

 

Positivity is lost sometimes when the events of a day are lost in a storm you were not expecting to show up. Let’s get one thing out into the open; being emotionally traumatized is not something that simply “goes away”. What is required of anyone under the stresses produced by such circumstances is to be aware, and for most of us, this awareness is acute at all times!

Being an idiot about oneself in relation to their emotional health is not an option for one who has been injured by trauma. Break your leg and don’t get it treated. Walk around on an open compound fracture, (well, hop or crawl, I’ve had one and it’s as painful as it sounds!) it will become infected, and eventually will cause much more internal damage. Emotional traumas can work in the same way. Untreated, the damage continues to erode the continuity of emotional composition, leaving the mind vulnerable to all kinds of other abuses and injuries.

A child who has not been taught the dangers of crossing a street may omit the step of looking for a clear path to do so before he or she crosses, this could lead to a disastrous outcome! 

Our minds are somewhat porous in this way once it has been corrupted by trauma. It may seek the shortest pathway to what it assumes is a safer place to be, or a more pleasant place to go. All without the benefit of looking into the decision before making the choice as to what to do. This sort of thinking is not exclusive to someone who has PTSI(D), but it is available to all minds, because we make choices, and sometimes we do this without analyzing the possible consequences.

I know that there are the people out there who are in the voyeur set. Those persons who like to watch things from a distance, not quite far enough not to be forced to squint to see, but just far enough to observe as clearly as they possibly can without getting caught in the grinder. 

 

“Retired brain cells are the identifier of fools!:, as I was told by some older guy when I was a kid. He said that “a fool will watch someone heading into an accident, not say anything, and then enjoy the results from a distance. Fools are this way!” He seemed to very adamant about this, I guess he had seen his share of fools in his 70 or so years of living. Over time, I became one of the fools, I filtered myself to fit into the mold of expected responses. I joined up and in.

When a person is focused on a projected outcome, all else seems to melt into the background mist. No terrible thing to do, but dangerous if one is exposed to unexpected doses of traumatic input. I saw things, idiosyncratic bits of the tapestry that I had only given a moment or twos thought to when I saw a broadcasted report from a warzone, or a commercial about poverty. I was not aware of the effects the closeness of being a part of any of it would inject into my mind. Images and sounds that will not go away, memories that are beginning to reform the events on a more consistent basis.

The colors were different there, it was like watching one of those old movietone newsreels, there were sounds, people, explosions, but these had smells, loud sounds, crying, screaming, shouting, dying, begging, pleading, and it had a stench to it. A stench that pervaded the senses, it grouped itself into a pile of weighted horrors that would not let up the pressures. My min demanded that I change the move, but we (my mind and I) were in the movie! We were not actors, we were inserts into horror that existed without a director to yell “Cut!” or a production crew to restage the scenes.

Where we were, death was permanent, pain was real, sickness was made worse by more sickness. Perversions of man’s belief that killing other people was patriotic and allowable, was rampant. The one thing that was absent for me and for many of the guys I knew, was the ability to not give a shyt about the deal! We were promoting destruction, we did as we  were ordered to do, but emotions don’t get trained out of the mind. The emotions are there, and they have weight and motion and they have definition and meaning, and when you force it to try to contort itself to fit into a space for which it will not yield, you get trauma!

Trauma doesn’t care about your age, religion, gender, color, political beliefs, nationality, creeds, or anything else about you, it only cares to exist within its host. A broken leg exists, a cold, exists, a person who is ambled by any and or all of these, exists! The bewilderment of the person who has undergone the distressing process of being traumatized by trenchant events, is understandable when the fragility of the mind is considered. For all of its complexity and for all of its abilities, the human mind can be punctured and altered, in ways that are astronomically complicated to understand!

Anyone can be confused, anyone can feel a sense of fear, anyone can feel lonely and left out. But PTSI(D) persons can be hunted by these feelings, they can feel as if they are being stalked. Even drugs, don’t cut into all of this for some of us. For some, I guess I can say thankfully, the drugs do alleviate the processes to some degree.

If you want to hear one definition of terror, here’s one from me: the sounds of pleading voices, the faces, looking up into my own, telling me the story of their lives, without the benefit of uttering a single word. The smells of burning flesh, the stench of dead bodies, the odor of putridity from fecal material and urination’s presence, all of it, because I was there. Wither to help or to hurt, but I, was, there! The scene can pop up just whenever the hell it wants to arrive, it doesn’t give much of a damn what is going on in my life, it arrives, and it intrudes!

Sleeping is terror for me, this is probably why even with sleeping meds, I don’t get much of it! Call it what you will, sleeping is like being on the live fire exercise range, bullets overhead, explosions and confusion all around me, people who don’t know any more than I do, trying to pretend that they too are not shyt out of their minds with fear. That’s sleep for me, that’s why we haven’t been friends for a long, long, time now!

If you are coming here to simply get into our minds, get out, we’re trying to do that for ourselves! If you are here to try to find out information that may be of use to a loved one, please, join in, become a part of what’s going on here because it’s important! If you have PTSI(D) the “I” is for injury, the true definition of what we are dealing with here, we are not disordered! Please, feel safe enough to offer your voice, we don’t judge, we try to help, each other, self, and more than this, this is an outlet for healing to be found.

Please, don’t let the confusion keep you out of life, get in and get a chance to be better.

No one deserves to be downtrodden by this condition, and none of us deserves to be labeled incorrectly or bullied and stigmatized either.

 

Peace, to all, wholeness is the hope!

 

#DontBeAWatcherJoinUsAndTryToHeal

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