Word vomit about Civilian PTSD.

PTSD: Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. It is a loosely thrown around term applied to anyone who has suffered from any sort of traumatic even in their life that has caused extreme stress that in turn effects their current life because they can’t move past it.

This is not me saying “get over it.” I have plenty of friends who have been in combat and who wake from night terrors, sometimes with their hands around a loved one’s throat. Friends that you have to wake from a distance with a long stick for fear of being thrown the ground and possible dispatched of before that person actually gains consciousness. People who have problems with fire crackers or car backfire, or hunting with friends due to the sound of gun fire, or who have a plethora of other triggers that can cause them to lose their shit or withdraw. My first inclination here… and maybe I am swayed by George Carlin, is to call that “Shell Shock.” I mean really…. I think that is a much simpler and more descriptive term when talking about our fine military veterans, based on my observation of those I know that suffer from this. I’m not addressing those people with Shell Shock. I can’t relate to that. I’ve never been blown up or had a gun fired at me. I’ve run for my life from someone. I’ve seen people die. But it’s not the same. Very much NOT the same.

But in the rest of the population…. PTSD is now applied to everyone who seems to be having an issue dealing with the stresses of life. I want to make something super clear to anyone reading this…. LIFE IS STRESSFUL. Seriously. Did someone tell you that this was going to be a fucking cakewalk? Because if they did, please send them my way so that I can slap the stupid out of them for ruining you.

Again…. I am not saying “get over it.” What I am saying is that somehow, over time, someone decided that we no longer have to learn how to cope with stress. Which is completely asinine. Let me repeat this…. LIFE IS STRESSFUL. You have to deal with stress all day long. That stress will come in the form of another person or a situation that was created by someone else (which is partially out of your control) or by yourself (which is totally in your control).

Really, I think it’s all about how you cope. What is your coping mechanism? How do you process your stress? Is it negative or positive? Do you have an outlet? It’s about being mindful about you and what’s around you. And once you can get into that mindset, what you do with that knowledge. And I don’t mean being mindful just right now for a minute. I mean practice mindfulness every minute of everyday. What is happening right now and how does it make you feel and what is your reaction to that? Is that something you can change? Is it something you can take control of?

We are trainable. The problem is we allow ourselves to get stuck in this place that we have been trained to stay stuck in. Trained by society, by our parents, by our teachers, by our experiences, by our loved ones, by our own thoughts that have been shaped by all the aforementioned things. Learning to train ourselves doesn’t mean “get over it.” It means we are stronger than all of those things that have shaped us. We are resilient. Each moment of pain or loss or fear has shaped us and taught us something about ourselves and the world around us. And we can use that to our own benefit. “It’s not easy,” you say. No shit, Sherlock. LIFE IS STRESSFUL. Nothing worth doing is easy. Think about that as you go through your day wishing for a different life.  NOTHING WORTH DOING IS EASY. Until it is. And once it is easy…. then you have mastered it and can move on to the next thing.

Why am I talking about this? I’ve had some “professionals” state that I “suffer” from Broken Heart Syndrome or that I have PTSD attached to my domestic violence relationships, attached to fear of abandonment. That may be true. I’ve also had them tell me that it is the very outlook that I have described above that makes me the most well adjusted person to ever sit in their office. I am not going to say that I “suffer” although at times I suppose it could be called that. It is a suffering of my own design because I have yet to figure out the appropriate and most effective way for me to tackle some of the issues that I face emotionally and mentally because of my past experiences. Experiences that I chose to be in (unknowingly, but chose to be in none the less). We cannot know the future. I’m talking about this because I had a visit from a friend this weekend for the purpose of going to classes for a hobby we both have an interest in… we are kind of both in the same/but different space in our lives. But we are friends. And I am fond of this person. And it made me start to think about my fears and insecurities and what shaped them and how they affect me now in relation to the relationships that I form.

My advice? 1) Don’t beat yourself up over it. The past is the past. You can’t go back and change it. Yes…. it hurts. Yes, it made scars. Yes, you might still be bleeding.

Here’s the great part about having people all around you. Every where you look… lots of people. Find some good ones. There are lots of us. Don’t find them to fix you. Find people that will guide you. That will give you a hand up when you fall. That will check in on you when you become distant. Those are the people you want in your life. Also… make sure you do the same for them. Sometimes you feel like you can’t… but you can. And it actually helps you to do so.

2) Service. Like I mentioned above, do for others what you need them to do for you. Don’t do it with the expectation that they will reciprocate. If you do, you may find yourself very disappointed. But this is how you find the right people to have in your life. They are there for you, you are there for them. Win Win.

3)Find things to do that interest you. Start doing them alone if you have to. There are groups everywhere. Go to events even if you don’t feel like going. When friends invite you to do things….go. Surround yourself with people who are like you. Why? Because they understand. And that’s the big thing. They understand. I don’t mean a support group. I never really found that to be helpful. It might be for you… and if that’s the case, then by all means, do it. But for me, I find that there are people that are like me that are striving to overcome or have overcome the things that I am already fighting with. They have good insight. And they are an excellent distraction. In a support group you are surrounded mostly by people that are currently going through what you are. In a normal setting… you generally get a good mix of currently going through or been there, done that, overcame it. At least I find that I do.

This has not been easy. It’s not currently easy. I deal with depression, fear, insecurity, and a plethora of other negative crap. Guess what? We all do. Because LIFE IS STRESSFUL. Don’t “get over it.” Deal with it. Take it by the balls and show it who is boss. It will be slow. It will be tedious. It will be hard. It will be a constant battle. It’s okay to ask for help. It’s okay to reach out in your effort to overcome. But don’t whine about it…. unless you have cheese. Wine is ok with cheese. =)  You’re only a victim if you choose to stay a victim. I’m telling you to fight. Fight tooth and nail. Fight as though your very life depends on it. Because it does. Are you living? Or are you just breathing and watching life happen around you?

Thanks for reading. I’d enjoy it if people shared their “coping mechanisms” or their experience in their battle and how it’s going. I’m with you.

Unrequited Love ruins a sandwich for everyone.

I believe that everyone has experienced this at least once in their life. You meet someone, you’re friends, you fall head over heels giddy stupid over them… and they push you away. Or they don’t feel the same. Or they aren’t in that place.

And that hurts. Rejection hurts, period. Doesn’t matter if it’s someone you were in a relationship with or if it’s someone you are friends with or if it is someone you admire from afar.

I have been there. I find often that they way I love my friends can also be misconstrued. If you are my friend and I see you are hurting… I want to show you love to help you through. To give you confidence and boost your mood and just make you feel special. That scares people a bit. Why would you give that away for free? You must want something I’m not ready to give. LOL No… I just want my friend to feel better, and I am generally very clear in my communication of that.  But that rejection hurts as well.

But really what I want to talk about is the other side of the coin. I get along with men much better than I get along with women. It’s been that way my whole life. Unfortunately, there is something wrong with that in the eyes of the world. I do have female friends that I am close to. But not many. So on that note…. sometimes they fall.

We don’t choose who we have a love connection with or who we fall in love with. It is or it is not. Yes, you can choose to love someone. I know several people in arranged marriages that have lasted 30, 40 plus years…. they love one another very much. But they were never in love. I do know one couple that is in love… but they have told me that it took some time and work and when they found themselves there it was unexpected.

I choose my friends very carefully. If you are my friend, if we spend time together then I trust you. I feel safe with you.  I enjoy your company. But then you gotta go catching feelings. It’s okay…. it’s not your fault. We don’t choose that. It’s just there. And I know that it hurts because I don’t feel the same way. And I may never feel the same way. I wish I could change the way you feel. I’m sure you wish you could change the way you feel. I know when in the same situation I have felt that way.

Now… here’s how I feel. You are my friend. I care about you. I love you. I want you to be happy. It hurts me to see you suffer…. and it hurts even more to know I am the cause of that suffering. So now where are we? You don’t want to be around me because it hurts because you want me and I don’t want you. I don’t want to be around you because you are suffering and it’s my fault because you want something from me I can’t give you. Hence…. end of friendship.

I hate that. It makes me angry. I think it’s stupid. And I miss my friends.

“Nothing ruins the taste of Peanut Butter quite like unrequited love” ~Charlie Brown

You speak truth, Charlie. You speak truth.

unrequitedlove

Oh, sons of a silly person…. Day 3

YOU TOO CAN HAVE YOUR QUESTIONS ANSWERED REGARDING THIS POST!  Just read this blog to see how!


What this means is you actually have to click the link and go read the blog. All will be revealed. If it’s not….. then feel free to ask. But ask on the blog and not on The Book of Face… because I’m not on The Book of Face right now. I’m taking a break. Because I am trying to work through my broken right now… and The Book of Face is the most toxic place I can be for that. The only reason you are seeing this post is that WordPress automatically posts it when I publish it.

This also means that I am not seeing my lovely Starfish’s wonderful insights on life. I am not watching Pikey’s entertaining and odd live feeds. I do not see what people are trying to sell in Yakima or the event invites people are sending me. I am seeing no updates about my favorite Blathanorians or Empire of Medieval Pursuiters, nor of my bestie’s wonderful satire. I am not seeing updates on new video’s concerning my other bestie’s survival tips.  My contact information is on my “About me” page. If you want me, you can call me. I am still using messenger, you can message me. I would enjoy that interaction. I would enjoy hearing your voice. I would enjoy hearing about your day. I would enjoy meaningful conversation. But I’m staying off of The Book of Face for a while. Because the short attention span of it all is really getting to me. And I was a girl that grew up in a world of real connections with real people…. and I miss those real people.

Today actually has been a really good day. I woke up in the middle of the night last night from a horrible dream, my body tingling from head to toe. I was angry… and then I was sad. And then my male bestie called me and let me talk it out. And he prayed with me. This morning I woke up feeling… meh. And then something made me sad. A memory or a missing of something. And as it began to hurt and I began to cry I began to ask God…. but then I stopped… and instead just said “thank you.” Thank you for this pain. Thank you for this lesson. Thank you for this sadness. Thank you for my tears. Thank you. And the rest of the day was actually ok. I feel… mostly not sad at all today. Yea for today!

I was going to make scotch eggs today… but we had to run errands after work and then we got home… and now I just feel like it’s too late to eat. *shrug* So beer it is. And Game of Thrones and nalbinding this hat that is going to turn out to be too small for me. But hey… it will fit on Judah. So… super cool on that I guess. When I’m done on the hat I will work on my shoes. And when I’m done with my shoes, I’ll work on my chair. I also have to work on my sister’s Persian coat… which is all cut out, but needs to be put together.

So.. thank you for today, Universe.

What is Suicidal?

Websters dictionary says: “suicidal: adjective sui-cid-al  Simple definition of suicidal: 1)wanting to kill yourself : showing a desire to kill yourself 2)extremely dangerous : likely to cause your death : likely to cause great harm to yourself.

Full Definition of suicidal

  1. 1a:  dangerous especially to life:  destructive to one’s own interests

  2. 2:  relating to or of the nature of suicide

  3. 3:  marked by an impulse to commit suicide

sui·cid·al·lyadverb
Ok… don’t freak out. I’m not going to hurt myself. I’m not suicidal….. well, not by the above definition. But I am having a little difficulty dealing with my depression. I’ve dealt with depression my whole life, although I was diagnosed until I was older. And there are variables that can make it worse. (i.e. food allergies and medications that effect brain chemistry)
I can’t take depression meds because they do all kinds of weird things to me. We went through about 20 or so possibilities until I said “I’m done.” And I deal with that depression every day of my life. Some days are better than others but it’s only been this bad once before. And of course, I have a reason to be depressed on top of my regular everyday battle, so…. there’s that.
But honestly…… it is physically painful right now. And I’m feeling desperate for it to stop. And that terrifies me. Because during those times that I am feeling desperate for the pain to stop, my imagination goes to some really dark places. And I’m reaching out to all the wrong people. And the people I should be reaching out to are out of town or live on the other side of the mountains.
I constantly have to remind myself of how that would not be a good path to go down because of all the reasons I don’t want to be dead.
I started writing this particular blog several months ago. Before the actual legitimate reason I had to feel sad. I wanted to talk about the concept of not actually wanting to die, but often times feeling that if I had not woken up this morning, I’d be okay with that. But being that this is where we are now… this is where we are now….. this blog has kind of changed.  I’m not trying to be a needy bitch. I’m not writing this for attention. I’m trying to ask for help. And by help, I mean I just need someone to hang out with me for a little while. To talk to me, even if it’s just on chat or on the phone. To distract me. So that I have something else to focus on. Because sometimes there is only so much distraction I can give myself. And I’ve deleted the facebook apps off of my devices. Because that is proving to be just toxic during the above mentioned times.
I will get through this particular thing. Because I am strong. I always get through these things. And I am not weak because I ask for help. Weak people don’t ask for help. Strong people ask for help because they know when they can’t do it by themselves.
Reaching for help
So I’m sorry… if I’m annoying the frak out of you. And I suppose the only people in my life who won’t feel that way, are the only people worth being in my life, or so I am told.
So today is day three…. of the rest of my life. Today I poached a goose egg. I did some yard cleanup. I did a ton of laundry. Cleaned my room. Watched a movie with my Judah Buddah and he slept through a third of it on me. I called my dad. Because it’s father’s day, you know. Hope you called yours. Judah and I ate icecream together, because that is how we do. And I had thought about making mini scotch eggs today. But If I don’t have anyone to share them with…. I kind of feel like it’s a mute point. I like to cook. But only if other people are involved. Odd that I find no joy in it otherwise.
I desperately need to find a new hiking partner. Because I need to go hiking.
I think we are done here for today. Maybe tomorrow I will write about something different. This is to be one of my distractions. The writing. At least one of the people reading this remembers when I used to write every day.  Happy Father’s day. Have a good one.

It’s Day One……

I am tired of anxiety every day. While I’m sitting at work and my chest is aching like someone just punched me in it and forgot to remove their fist…. I’m wishing I was on my treadmill so I can run it off or at least run till I fall down. When I get home, I just want a beer and to become one with a blanket. A beer drinking burrito. So… what to do?

Continue reading

My failure to write

When it comes to you, it comes at 3am. When you are snug in your bed, the thoughts come into your head, rushing in like a mad sea. And there is no place for you to sit and write. You do not have the proper tools and the bed is warm and the world is silent. And so there you lie, thinking all of your thoughts. And then later, when you so have the inclination to sit and attempt to put them down…. They have vanished.

My heart is so broken right now… but I find this is when I do the best writing. I have the best thoughts. I write the best stories. I am inspired by my imagination once again. I summon all my hopes and dreams and fantasies to the surface because I need them. I need something to cling to. Because I feel as though someone has ripped my beating heart from my chest, and I just want the pain to stop. The writing takes me to a place where I can escape from the pain for just a moment. Where I can release it from me… so that I can function. Where I can dream and glue my pieces back together.

I wish you guys could have seen the things I wrote on MySpace. But it’s all gone now. =(

I miss my desktop. I wonder if I should attempt to get another.

writing