Friday, June 16, 2017, 19:52
According to biologists and Drs. This is a traumatic event because involves our first experience with fright.
We are now exposed to light, which is a new and terrifyingly different deal for our minds to theorize about. We’ve never seen it in such a concentrated form, if at all, so yes, maybe this would impart a traumatic point into our freshly blank minds.
I doubt it because birth has to take place, this wouldn’t make any sense to me.
Maybe if we were born and dropped into a vat of boiling water, I could accept birth as being a traumatic experience, but the value of this sort of thinking is in the negative number range and it offers no place for inclusion when one is trying to find positives in a world, which is being invaded by negatives.
I have a history with the birth process, but I’d be lying to tell anyone that I can remember whether or not it was traumatic. What the hell, why should I even care, it’s the stuff that I can remember that’s causing me the issues, so I think I should be more focused on dealing with those than anything else that I can’t recall anyway!
I remember childhood incidents, you know, the bullying things, the toys that I didn’t get that I thought were so important, and the kids that I didn’t like to play with but was left with little choice since they were there. But there was not an instance in that time period, or ever since then, that I can remember about being born. Oh, I forgot, there is one thing: that abusive Dr. who slapped me on the ass, I never forgave him for that! LOL!
A sense of humor has to be prevalent inside of the life of every person, even those of us who have PTSI(D) injuries and the resulting issues that accompany them, it’s just imperative to dismiss at least some of that pressure.
When I was a child, my granddaddy told me about guys in combat who had seemed to have lost themselves, they seemed to be there, but NOT there. They didn’t respond to the traumatic instances of combat, the bombs, the bullets, the screaming and the loudness of warfare.
Warfare is loud beyond my meager vocabulary to explain fully. There needs to be a way for noise to be taken out of warfare, I think it’s the main force of change inside of the mind of the individual. Nothing and then… BOOM! BAM! THHRTTTTTTTTTT! HELP ME! OH, MY GOD!
NO ONE CAN FULLY EXPLAIN THE VICIOUSNESS OF THE SOUND OF WARFARE, IT IS ITS OWN ENTITY. THE OVERWHELMING INJUSTICE OF THE RAPING OF THE EARDRUMS UNDER THE COMPRESSED SOUNDS OF PERVERTED MUNITIONS IS SOMETHING THAT IT IS HOPED ONE WILL NEVER HAVE AN OPPORTUNITY TO BE ABLE TO EXPERIENCE. BUT FOR THOSE WHO DO, OR WHO HAVE, I HAVE A SPECIAL SENSE OF REGRET FOR THEM.
Living in a war zone can never be forgotten nor can it be lessened in the mind’s eardrums! The expanding of noise from a bomb, the cracking of a gun shooting of a bullet, the grenade’s explosively close and deadly impressions, make a permanent mark on the mind.
Don’t forget that soldiers are not the only victims of warfare’s scars. Civilians suffer worse because the are innocent and they are not trained to live with the emotional onslaught of the events of combat. The smells of death and gunpowder, the loss of land, dwellings, possessions, loved ones, friends, the familiarity of one’s environment. All of these have to be taken into account. And then there is the one thing that cannot be forgotten: safety! The loss of this aspect is deadening to the emotional strength. This loss creates a permanence that no one expects can exist.
All of the communities of this planet have seen an undertow of war’s destruction in some way or another. Territorial disputes, religious wars, ideological conflicts, lover’s wars, money, minerals, slavery, just plain damned foolishness on the parts of humankind, as it pretended to be more so superior to its actual identity. Whatever the reasons or the causes, warfare creates, death, destruction, and memories. Not good ones.
I have known persons who survived world war 2, and they were concentration camp survivors. They told me about the starvation and the neglect they received from their captors who were starving pretty much alongside them because the war had disrupted supply lines and food couldn’t get through. I heard of deaths caused by starvation, diseases, some shootings, and even inmates who killed each other for clothing. I never heard anything about ovens or gas chambers, and I guess I’m glad for that lack, the horror of it is nothing I’d want to deal with.
So now, as I deal with my PTSI, I don’t look for someone or some, thing, to blame, I look for relief. I’ve had enough of fighting, enough of the negatives of being the one to outsmart the enemy. I just want to be able to relax around people, go to a concert and enjoy the music with other people ho are doing the same thing. I’d like to feel comfortable in going to church regularly and not feeling like I was being closed in on.
Try it, it’s not a fun feeling and it doesn’t feel like it’s a temporary thing, it feels to me like I’m ending. Like everything that is ever safe, is now unsafe. People I’ve trusted, seem available to become instant enemies. A disagreement can seem to escalate into a war-like situation. My guard goes up, and that person is never again trusted as fully as before.
This is living with PTSI(D) in my life. Not all of it, but it’s a start at explaining how I feel. And this is a big step for me to make! Like diving out of a plane minus the chute, that someone has just thrown out in front of you, and trying to believe that I will catch it, put it on, and pull that freaking cord, in time to not become mush on the ground!
Peace, heart, rest, friendship.