Go to war, see bad stuff, come home, trip out a bit…. then what? Life seems to be a series of phases. Sometimes these phases seem like independent lives where you were a completely different person. Things come and go, ebb an flow. So why is it that I am sitting here waiting for the turning point, waiting for this phase to end and the next to begin.
I am doing everything I can mentally and emotionally to force the turn. I am doing my part to make it happen now its on time to get to the right moment. I am sure it won’t be all at once, but I am done being the wounded one. Been done for a while. I just want to be able to move through life without all the extra baggage I carry. I want to be engaged again rather than viewing things from a far. I am tired of creeping my friends out when I space out. When I say want, thats an under-exaggeration I crave the time when I won’t be this anymore. I am not the type to fail at a goal like that. I will fight this tooth and nail until I get there, but part of me knows it will involve waiting.
If something was put in my mind by external forces, isn’t it true that external forces should be able to nullify it? Thats the theory I have beenrunning on, by refusing PTSD and moving towards dealing with what happened. Working through my guilts and faults of combat and refusing to fall to the terminal diagnosis of PTSD, and just assuming thats my plight in life. To hell with that and the horse it rode in on. I will not fall to the wayside or submit to the brown paper bag of pills. I won’t let the adrenaline and the combat mentality run my life. I won’t let old fears and old guilts tell me when I am allowed to be happy. So I am armed and pissed off, ready to do some guerrilla warfare on this thing called life after combat. I am going to systematically tear its freaking heart out, like that bad guy in Indiana Jones. I think I am getting a little angry (hulk smash). Time to simmer down.
So while I wait for the turning point, I am obviously going to be making a hell of a racket in my mind where that trauma junk is stored. Gonna be like that doc lady that goes into people’s houses, where they have pizza boxes to the ceiling with a dead cat hidden in between the couch cushions, and cleans everything up. But I am gonna do it with a little more flare, like with a flame thrower or something. Hunting down bad memories and making them “teachable moments” P.S. next person to tell me something is a “teachable moment” is gonna get kicked in the teeth. So while I am all full of piss and vinegar, I might as well get cracking. Don’t just wait for the turning point in your life, do something about it, it still all comes down to time but at least you will look busy until the time being.