Thursday, December 8, 2011

How to avoid kicking puppies

Despite my very best intentions, I have fallen into the passive-aggressive trap. I have a bizarre resentment of anything that seems even remotely like an obligation. Disassociate is a dangerous pitfall of having so many psychological disorders. Lately anything that distracts me from the wide and varied world in my head, tends to make me want to bite someone's head off. I don't like being this pissy all the time. When you catch yourself yelling at a puppy for being a puppy and exhibiting puppy-like behaviors, you know you've got to straighten yourself out.

The VA has me on new medications, and one medication I take to treat my nightmares. Since I started taking it, I don't have violent nightmares. Instead I have passive-aggressive nightmares. Seriously. Instead of reliving all my worst experience every night in my sleep, my subconscious drops hints, or constructs parables. I actually get regular sleep now, which is a freaking miracle. Unfortunately, I tend to spend my mornings untangling the puzzles of my dreams, which leave a mildly disturbing after taste, that I can't shake.

I have a sweet faced and precious four and a half month old Corgi, whom I adore, when I'm in a half way decent mood. I really just want to yell at someone, or get in a fight, so that I can vent all this confusing pent up stress. Also so I will stop being mad at my helpless and adorable puppy. I resent fucking Christmas for crying out loud. It is exhausting being this angry all the time and not understanding why I am so pissed. Unfortunately for me, I am not in the Army anymore (I know that statement makes no sense if you've read previous entries), and I can't explode all over random people and pick fights to feel better. In the Army it's just par for the course. It is a dangerous mirage, that makes you think, if I could just hit something or scream I would feel better. It wouldn't really make me feel better, the guilt would probably just make me feel worse.

There is always this annoying voice in the back of my head that insists I should be punishing the wicked and saving the poor and downtrodden masses. I can't even save myself. It's the Army reaching out from the great beyond, trying to tell me how I should live my life. It insists that the worse my life gets, the more I should be trying to save the world from itself. Turn the music up, and tune it out. And don't kick the puppy.

No comments:

Post a Comment