Sunday, July 31, 2011

Tired again, naturally

I hate being confronted with the fact that PTSD is so much bigger than me. People shouldn't have to look at all their worst fears and experiences every day. It is driving me crazy. I really hate myself. I don't know who I'm supposed to be, or who I am. I'm tired. I'm tired in a way that makes my soul ache, and makes me wonder how much longer I'll survive this much suffering. All I can do is pretend sometimes that I know what I'm doing, and that I'll be okay. Nobody can help me, although God knows some have tried. Every time I start believing things might be okay, I get sucker punched, and it starts all over again. How do I make it stop, short of dying? Cause I really hate the idea of another 50 years of this shit.

Thursday, July 28, 2011

Never

You really can't go home again. Not after war, you leave a part of yourself behind when you get off that plane. You'll never be the same again.

Friday, July 15, 2011

Can'ts and Don'ts

I told my psychiatrist today that I couldn't stop thinking about dying. She told me that my medication was fine, and I would have to deal with it in therapy.

A dog will play with almost anything if he thinks he can get away with it. A cat will sleep anywhere that physics will allow them to get away with. Any person under the right circumstances will betray everything they hold dear and make themselves a hypocrite. Its all relative.

I hate people, really I do. I'm cynical and bitter, and I can't think past my "right now". You can't think about the future without thinking about the past, and my past is fucked up. Everything in my experience has taught me that people cannot be trusted. I can trust my judgment, because if my opinion of human nature was any worse I would become a maniac bent on the destruction of the world. Like comic book style, try to destroy the world, and since there are no super heroes in this world I could probably get away with it. I have impulse control problems. The only reason I don't go around punching people who annoy me is, because it wouldn't teach them anything as most people are too stupid to learn. Not that I care about teaching anybody anything, but it would be pointless.

All I want is peace and fucking quiet. I don't want to think or feel anything. Life is too hard, and I don't care enough anymore. I ran out of give-a-shit a long fucking time ago. I kind of wish they would lock me up in a little white room with all the Thorazine they can shoot me up with, and all the jello I can eat. Except they probably wouldn't let me bring my cat. I am sort of attached to her. I'm not living now, but I'm not dead yet and suicide is cowardice. So I'm just waiting for my turn to kick the bucket. I'm all out of convictions. I used to want to save the world, and now I don't think I even want to save myself.

Friday, July 1, 2011

Forgotten

I can't stand feeling all alone. I'm emotionally dangerous to myself, its like a bomb with a short fuse of emotional shit waiting to blow up in my head all the time. I'm running out of distractions. I don't want to eat, or sleep, or bathe, or take care of the house. I'm locked in my head and I can't get out. Everything I do or don't do makes me feel terrible about myself, and all I can hear is the hissing of that fuse waiting to blow.

I can't make decisions to save my life. I wish I could just shut it all off. I can't find a corner of my mind to hide in, and feel safe. I wish I could pretend everything is fine, I know people who can pretend it so hard that it almost feels real, but I'm not one of them. I'm driving myself crazy, but I can't stop it.

I know there are those who can find power in the simple things in life, and I think I used to know how to do that, but my memory isn't so good.

I'm like a child, utterly dependent on others. I was this amazing person, who stayed surrounded by enemies, bombs falling everywhere, and people dying all around me, and now I've been reduced to this. But who cares right? I don't recognize my own face in the pictures or in the mirror. I'm not a real person, just a used up, washed out soldier who got old before my time.

I'm surrounded by people who have never had to sort through the bloody rubble of war to try and find themselves again, and they will never understand. Civilians seem stupid and shallow and incapable to me, because I keep trying to hold everyone to the same standards. I can't even live up to those standards anymore. My power is missing along with so many other things.

I don't want to be this anymore, but I don't know how not to be. I don't remember. I forgot too much, and not nearly enough. If I had died my story might have had some relevance, but I'm just another broken soldier now, and no one wants responsibility for us broken toys. Stick it on a high shelf in the back of a closet and try to forget. I can't take any pride in surviving, and I can't help wishing I had died, because I so desperately want some peace.

I'm stumbling around in a world I don't understand anymore, and everyone keeps asking too much from me. All I want to do is forget. All I can do is exist, as more of a thing than a person.