saturday, March 10, 2018, 0145 Hrs.
Friend: a person whom one knows and with whom one has a bond of mutual affection, typically exclusive of sexual or family relations
I have friends, not as many as in my past but I do have them and I care about each of them without exception. The problem comes in whether or not I know where the lines of friendship should be drawn. In other words how close should I allow anyone to get to me, both physically and emotionally? I have always been a bit standoffish with people I don’t know, it’s my way, it’s my personality, it’s my psychological makeup, call it what you will, it’s who and how I’ve always been. PTSI(D) has made this much more of a problem in my life than it ever was before, this, I cannot deny, but still, I draw lines.
Now, if anyone were to tell me that my standoffishness is a trait of PTSI(D) I’d have to call bullstuff on that one! I have known me for a very long time, ad no forty minute session, no matter how trained the individual may be, is going to give all of the information to that person that would be needed in order to explain who and how, and why I am the way that I am! I can’t accept that anyone is this clairvoyantly enhanced as to be able to ascertain the whole of my story in this fashion.
I have had the providence to have traveled all over our planet, some of it was so revealing as to the nastiness of the human mind that my telling it here would seem to be a trivialization of the truth of the matter, I’ll say this to each of you: get out and see a place where you’ve heard that the living conditions are less than ideal, and maybe then you will be able to appreciate the roughness of the human immorality and imbecility!
Women are still trafficked for sexual slavery, and laws protect the very scum who initiate this inhuman bondage of God’s most important creation to mankind, the protector of our entire species! Who the hell is really in charge of this world, anyway? Wars are fought for no other reason to build fortunes for people who couldn’t less of a damn about the lives lost or inalterably changed and destroyed and they laugh, all the way to the bank, as we are lost in the lies about fighting for the cause of patriotism(vigorous support for one’s country), and loyalty to country and the freedoms we enjoy. As we are looking the other way, however, these same freedoms are lessened by laws that are more and more restrictive.
Is there any wonder that veterans can return home from service, and (not necessarily combat duty either!)and feel out-of-place and feel strongly as being the odd-person-out, the duck in a room full of eagles? How could this NOT impact the emotional well-being of these individuals? Tell me truthfully, are you the best that you can be, when you are not acting as your own self, just to fit into a certain mold, that a group of others demand that you do, or be seen as not worthy of respect?
I love my service brothers and sisters. I really do, and I mean this with the whole of my heart, because as a member of the service, the person gives up his or her personal identity to become someone that is a part of the group, and even in this, they might feel as though they’ve made the biggest mistake of their lives. And when they get married and have children, even the family members have a code to live by. It can be beyond understanding for a spouse to put up with out-of-country assignments and long tours of duty. And then when the spouse returns, this person is never who they were before they left. They have become who they had to to get through the training, or the assignment, or the combat detail or whatever else the military said that they had to in order to be a good service-member. Damn the family at home, the quiet heroes, the glue that holds together the lives of the real person who has to falsify him or herself, in order to be the true patriot.
A patriot might come back from combat and have a nightmare that he or she cannot awaken from, and grab the spouse by the neck, choking them to death thinking that it was an enemy soldier who had snuck into the bed with him or her. The quietness of fear can be most disturbing to the spouse or the companion who has no point of reference to understand why the person they care about now seems less than caring about anything.
The affected person may be totally unaware of his/her disturbing behaviors, less aware of others and definitely not so much aware of themselves as much as they are aware of a possible enemy who may attack. This is how a person lives in hell! This is how a person dies an inch at a time, the whole nine-yards, running out of distance, and this person, having no way to understand or to explain it to anyone else because the explanation is lost to themselves as well. This is how fear becomes an actionable force, to create the need to create one more kill, the death of the self!
Looking into a mirror and feeling naked minus the face-camouflage that had become a part of how to look if you wanted to stay alive, and then, the loss of a mission to commit to. No complaining about going on a long march which more often than not, leads to a non-climactic ending, and you “hump it” all the way back to base camp, just to be told you’ll have to do it all over again tomorrow. Now, you just have a job to report to, a nine-to-five so-to-speak, no fore off in the distance to wonder about whether or not it’s coming your way. It’s a big emotional strain to come back to “normal” after you’ve been this “jacked” for so long.
The family is not exciting enough to keep your need to feel the same rush of adrenaline, the sex with your partner isn’t the answer, you need to go out and look for an enemy. In too many cases, the member is left to see only himself and God forbid, his family as the enemy he or she must eliminate before they strike. They attack, kill and then the realization of the murders they have committed comes down on them, their emotions return to “normal” and the morbidness of what they’ve done takes them to the real edge of insanity. Live or die, now? Is the question. Death is the only way to escape this new memory, DAMN ME, FOR THIS! (BANG!!) problem solved!
Or take the member who has no one else, and now, their only companion is the self that is supposed to forget and forgive the assault he or she has allowed to invade their minds and their memories, and they too, come to the edge, of thoughtlessness. Live or die?
Obviously, for too many, the answer is “die”!
However they choose to do the deed, death is the end result, it’s not pretty, and if we were taking care of these injured people properly, this wouldn’t be necessary! But it is necessary, it is happening at a rate of approximately twenty-three per day in the United States and elsewhere, I can’t assure the numbers, but one is too high to have to deal with!
Families are ripped to shreds that are never again put back into proper places. Understanding is never regained, where in the hell is the normalcy in any of this?
Do you want a normal person? Then don’t send anyone off to war anymore! Don’ destroy innocent lives to produce money and the lie of patriotism and country loyalty. Lives being torn apart are not exaggerations, they are tragedies, and I’ve lived to see more than I care to recall!
When I die, I pray that my memory won’t recall the horror shows I’ve lived in and through. We were soldiers, sailors, airmen, marines, guardsmen, reservists, merchant marines, but we were also victims of a lie that led us to believe that we were doing something
Well…look at PTSI(D) and the military people who struggle with it: (family members included!)
What the hell is right about it?
PTSI(D) is hell, a life in a pit of flames for many of us, if not for www.ptsdchat.org, and the friends that I’ve made here, I still have my blade-of-truth! Feel me? Just try not feel like I do, OK?
Peace, love, and wholeness of mind-body, spirit and the soul.