Archives

All posts for the month September, 2016

“Never have I dealt with anything more difficult than my OWN soul”

Published September 26, 2016 by filterless1616

Anxiety…. Lets talk about it for a minute. I cannot count how many times people have bombarded me with questions regarding it. What does it feel like? Why does it happen? Whats stressing you out? did something happen? AAAAAHHHH fucking shit fuck! NO NO NO and NO!!! Nothing “happened”. No one “did anything to me” this is just the way my brain is wired. I bet you never thought about that did you? This is were biology confuses the ignorant people of the world. I’ve been diagnosed with GAD (Generalized Anxiety Disorder) yes, its a biology thing. It’s not a “my boyfriend hurt my feelings thing” Its something out of my control. Here’s an example, when people tell me to “calm down, try and relax” its like telling someone who has epilepsy to STOP having a seizure! I cant you fucking idiot! Its a physical response my body is having. With that said, I do take daily medication to help control it. So what is it like? It sucks… It feels like the entire world is falling apart and everyone on this planet is going to die and you will somehow watch their slow deaths, with your hands tied behind your back, helpless. I know, sounds extreme right? but that’s what its like. For me, I cant sleep… Cant eat.. and when I do try to sleep I wake up every two hours. The dark scares me, silence scares me, being alone scares me. And its always around 3am when the feeling of “I am going crazy” begins to kick in. Or the most common one “what if this doesn’t go away” So what does it “FEEL” like. Ever walk down the stairs and miss a step? you know that sensation when your heart skips a beat and your stomach tightens and you feel like you cant breathe… Its like that but worse and it doesn’t end quickly. Its like putting a ton of weights on you chest and trying to breathe, better yet try and breathe under water. Your brain? well we have now entered fight or fight mode. And even tho you know, this will eventually pass, in those moments you feel as it never will. Anxiety for me is one of the hardest things I have ever dealt with in my life. It controls me, I cant control it. Usually after days of being beat down by it, I hit that dark place. Anyone who suffers from GAD knows where I am going with this. The moment when you cant breathe, you’re drowning in your own tears, and you just say out loud “I rather die than live like this forever” Its the moment when you look at that bottle full of pills and say… “hey there, can you solve all my problems, can you put me to sleep and grant me the wish of never waking up?” What can drive a human so crazy, make them so desperate, to the point where ending your life seems more appealing? Anxiety can. I know this first hand. So my dear readers, you are not alone…. Ive been there, hell I’m still there. So cheers to me, and to you for waking up every morning to fight the same fight, a fight we wont ever win. But do you even begin to understand how brave that is? How fucking brave you are? if you dont, well I know how brave you are!!

“You wake up every morning to fight the same demons that left you so tired the night before, AND THAT, MY LOVE, IS BRAVERY”

LOVE YOU ALL,

-A

 

 

“She’s been though hell and came out an angel. You didn’t break her darling. You don’t OWN that kind of power!”

Published September 26, 2016 by filterless1616

“How long are you going to not care about the people you hurt or leave in your wake?” “Why do you feel you have the right to hurt people with your words, and use the fact that you have been hurt as an excuse?”

These are the questions that I have been asked more times than I can count, usually my men who I have thrown away like yesterday’s garbage. Valid questions, but as many times before I have found them super annoying. Perhaps this is because I don’t even know how to answer them. How long will I continue to hurt people? How long will I not care about who I leave in my wake? Shit….. I don’t know. I guess that depends on how long it takes to heal the damage that has been caused. I recently made a decision to no longer be the person I claim my ex “turned me into”. This path is hard. It requires allowing myself to feel, be vulnerable, be accountable. As I sat there with my therapist and heard her say you are exhibiting “abusive behavior” I immediately thought…. Wow. Now I’m a piece of shit just like he was. I am no longer any different. I have let his actions turn me into a hateful, cold woman. A woman sometimes I don’t recognize in the mirror. My hatred for the male species is too real for most to comprehend. “Don’t chase them, replace them” has been my motto. Until him. He has somehow unlocked the box holds my emotions, lies, and my truth. Next to him I am able to feel hurt, loss, pain. It scares the shit out of me. Its during these times I want to run, not care who I hurt. Its too close for comfort here, hes too near to my heart. It is during these times when in my own twisted head I find myself saying things like “don’t be stupid. Don’t be stupid. This is temporary. He’s only here until he finds something better.” Guess I talk myself out of every deal. So how long will I hurt other people? No clue. Ever heard the quote “Be careful when helping broken people, you might cut yourself on their broken pieces” maybe that’s all I am. Broken glass. Something not meant to be handled. I cut. Often too deep. Excuses. I can give you so many of them, why Ive become the way that I am, why I say the things that I do. BUT I will no longer do that. Instead I will hold my head high and take a step forward. Drop my guard, re-learn to be kind, loving, and compassionate. I don’t want to be shattered broken glass anymore. So while I cant answer the questions ive been asked before, I can say I will no longer be that woman you used to know. I guess hurt people tend to hurt other people, it’s  “misery loves company I suppose.” It’s the if” I can make you hurt then somehow I have gained a piece of what I lost with him back, power”  But like most things, it has eaten away at my soul, at my self worth…. to the point where I don’t even like myself anymore. For now, all I can say is I am a broken being, in search of the cure. And if in my road of darkness I have caused you pain, I apologize. But this is day one, day one of a new chapter…. No fuck that. This IS A NEW FUCKING BOOK!

 

Love you all

-A

“I almost thanked you for teaching me about survival back there, but then I remembered, the ocean never handed me the gift of swimming. I gave it to myself.”

 

 

 

I like storms. They let me know that even the sky SCREAMS SOMETIMES!

Published September 20, 2016 by filterless1616

Thank you for all the amazing feedback, shares, and emails about PTSD following my last blog.  I received the same questions multiple times “How did you keep calm? Did you ever feel angry? or just sad?” So here you go dear readers.

I WAS PISSED! Not always at my ex-husband, sometimes at life, god, the Marine Corps. So I’m gonna say what many of us women married to men who served in combat and struggle with PTSD find it hard to say. I was pissed off too! I felt cheated and resentful. Yes, wearing the uniform comes with a sacrifice, NOT SHIT! No one knows this more than the families, the ones left behind. But we did it, I did it. I watched him pack up his bags time after time, and each time I waited for the man I swore to stand beside. You know what the problem was with that? That the man I fell in love with 10 years prior was no longer that man, every time he came back he was different. It was like we were losing him each time a little more. With each day that passed, he became more detached…. more reckless… he drank more, he became angry all the time, irritable… paranoid. He looked like the man I fell in love with, he smelled like him, he smiled like him, and every now and then he would come back just long enough to remind me why I loved him. And as quickly as he came back to us, he was gone again. Mentally and emotionally gone… tortured. Anger, yes. That is what I felt. How dare you take a man who means the world to us and send him back like this! Empty and soulless… angry.  And after a while the anger consumes you too. How? simple you are no longer normal. You too are damaged, wounded, paranoid, scared. Your own fears become irrational. I recall one sunny afternoon the door bell rang, and when I opened the door to our brand new house there was a package with his name on it. The so called “problem with this package” was there was no return label on it. While most of us would open the box… life wasn’t that simple. Life was now scary and dangerous. I remember the sound of his voice, angry… “Get the fuck away from the box! Don’t fucking touch it!” I remember looking at him and saying “just open the box”. His response… “NO. stay inside the house!” after what seemed like ages, he carefully and meticulously opened the box. Inside it…. Brownies! from out Real Estate Agent along with a congratulations note. Brownies. It was a fucking baked good! His reaction to him was justified. “What if I didn’t burn my mail all the way and they have our address! What if they know who my family is?” Well dear ex-husband… WHO THE FUCK WERE THEY!!???!! And why are you so fucking crazy! God there were so many times when I wanted to shake him and say “Snap out of it! you are a fucking retard! there is nothing to be scared of”. And yet, I would silently stare at him and nod my head. I knew better than to ask questions about it, he’s been clear before. “I don’t want to think about the things I’ve seen, so why the hell would I tell you? why put those thoughts in your head”. They were his secrets. The secrets I longed so badly for, why couldn’t he fucking tell ME! and his friends or shall we call them “his brothers” they knew it all. I was envious, jealous, I began to dislike them. How do they know more about the man I married then I do? Why am I the one tortured and left with no answers? Great, you all have this club, you know everything about what you went through over there. But guess what? While you all had each other, I WAS ALONE!. Shit I’m still alone. See what happens is, as time goes by and he gets help…. he talks about the things he saw, he did, he lived though. But what about me? who helps me deal with thoughts and memories that weren’t even mine to begin with.I carry these, silently… like weights tied to my heart, engraved in every part of my soul. And there are times when I curse his fucking name, and I hate him for all he was put on me, for contaminating me with his world of shit, with his fucking sickness. And then there are times when I just cry, and mourn the man I married. I mourn the life of my best friend, the man I used to know…. a man who is now just an empty shell. An empty shell that once contained, life, laughter, promises, and so much love. The man that gave me a ring, and promised to be my everything. That man…. who is now just of shell, a shell that holds, broken dreams, hurt, loss, and a shit ton of anger. So readers, the answer is yes, Yes I have been angry, shit who am I kidding…. I’M STILL FUCKING PISSED.

Love you all

-A

“The problem with having a problem… is that someone always has it worse”

Published September 19, 2016 by filterless1616

PTSD is something that happens to service members that go off to war…. Right? The ones that deal with the constant stress, the loss of loved ones, the constant fear, and most of all the aftermath. They are our “heroes”! The ones that sacrifice it all so that we may live free! So when they return we try our hardest to take care of them. The ones that seek help at least, to those that finally break down enough and know there is no other choice. Men like my ex-husband. Men that are so broken, so wounded, so ridden by survivor’s guilt that they contemplate taking their own life daily. I remember my therapist telling me months ago “You have PTSD” and I remember laughing and thinking “No, no…. that’s my EX not ME! Reread your file lady” I remember thinking, I suffer from Anxiety, NOT PTSD. I’ve never suffered trauma like that, I was a lucky child and young adult.

FAST FORWARD-A week after this conversation, I recall being woken up at 3am, covered in sweat, screaming….. the look on my boyfriend’s face….. Startled, confused, and worried. It was then he asked “what were you dreaming about?” my response… “I don’t know just a nightmare.”  The truth…. I was having a nightmare like the ones I’ve had many times before… My Ex-husband…. Dead. Him giving up on life, survivors guilt won… he’s lying on the floor of the bathroom… shot. Only this time, in this dream, he decided to take my boys with him. But how could I tell him that? How do you tell someone who loves you that you are so far gone and crazy and scared of the dark thoughts in your head for no reason. Or worse…. You now fear that this plague that has caused the loss of your entire family has now plagued you as well. Where does this end? When does the fear go away? I return the next week and tell my therapist, I’ve been having nightmares, but I minimize it. Because denial is a nice place to be, it’s comfortable here. So how do you develop PTSD without ever going through trauma of your own? Easy. 7 months go by, you answer ever phone call, you watch the news, you mail packages, and you spend day and night worried you will get a visit or a phone call saying “He’s gone…” And then when he finally comes home, relief right? HELL NO. This is the beginning of your nightmare. Now you will spend your every night listening for his every move. When he gets up, when he checks the doors, windows, when he checks on your kids. Every movement means DANGER. And when once you had no fear, the world is now a scary place. If the man who is your family’s protector, your rock, your place to lean on, is scared of the world… then I guess I should be scared to. So he “prepares you” he teaches you how to shoot a gun, how to come up with a safety plan in case something happens…. How to load and reload quickly…. And most important “DON’T YOU DARE MISS YOUR TARGET” but wait….. What am I scared of? Hell at this point you don’t even know anymore. And so your life begins to change….. Ever watch a loved one slowly die? Well imagine living every day thinking this is your husbands last day on earth, and tonight or tomorrow you will have to tell his children that they no longer have a father. So you begin to prep your speech… and his obituary. Only the day never comes. So you live day to day waiting for your loved one to take their last breath…. Can you imagine that?

And that is how. That is how you catch this plague called PTSD.

Love you all,

-A