…It has been awhile

Tags

anxiety, bullshit, college, depression, insight, PTSD

hello,

I have not been keeping up with my writing and journaling as much as I wanted. This semester (as well as the last) have been grinding me down. I feel as if the classes I am taking are way more difficult then they should be. There is no reason why I have to spend 4+ hours a week on an introductory IT class. I am absolutely positive that the professor realizes it’s a bullshit class yet makes the workload 3 times harder and more tedious than it should be. That’s community college for you though… Nothing but underpaid and underqualified (for the most part) instructors who either were too lazy or too unintelligent to become a no shit “professor”. Clearly this isn’t always the case, however, this has been my experience.

Despite being a member of Phi Theta Kappa, a member of the National Leadership Society, and maintaining above a 3.8 GPA, I was denied admission to a certain college in the Metropolitan, DC, MD, and Northern Virginia area. This particular school is competitive…but not THAT competitive. I received that lovely letter a few days prior to Christmas. 

Merry fucking Christmas bitch, wanted to let you know that you weren’t good enough for our institution, best of luck with your future studies..

That is how I read the letter. Needless to say I was pissed. Actually, rageful is a better adjective to use. Why am I spending hours and hours doing schoolwork when I see NO benefits to it? I’m just curious with my situation because I am confided to where I live currently. I do not have the money/ resources to up and move anywhere I want. If that were the case, I would already be happily living in Colorado, going to a chill ass liberal arts school, and puffing on the finest green that CO has to offer. Sadly, I’m basically fucked and restricted to a subpar existence in a small ass town. Fuck my life…

Good news is that my studies have kept my mind off the ex. Sent her a New Years text that went I responded to and I vowed to myself that would be the last attempt of communicating with her. So far I have kept that bow, sadly, I know that the next time I choose to get fucked up that I will most likely send another text.

She is now dating one of my high school friends (former friend actually). I only know because I’ve been told…like I really need that information. Every time I hear about that shit I just envision someone driving a fucking knife through my chest…probably would deal with that feeling more than the news of what the ex is doing. Another God damn reason to move to the mountains of Colorado. I have balls, but not enough balls to drop everything and drive west… In all honesty though that is exactly what I need…

Will post more soon…

…But a War is Known to Change a Man, and the Whiskey’s Known to Change a Man.

Tags

depression, PTSD

Been a while since I have contributed to my blog. Let me first start off by talking about Thanksgiving. Basically, it is myself and my sister (along with her husband and six children) and I who live the closest to each other. The rest of our family lives in…. Lets say the northern part of Virginia to the southern part of Pennsylvania. Watch… someone will figure this out and point my siblings here. Anyways, I honestly did not want to go to Thanksgiving. All that I saw was a mad scramble to rush to PA for an early dinner with minimal interaction with other adults due to the fact that there are a thousand children there. Please, do not get me wrong, I love kids, however, all the cousins under one small roof can get a little intense. So that situation coupled with a 3 hour drive there and back, does not make for an awesome day. ANYWAYS, my sister and I ran in to some issues while attempting to make it up north. Many were upset and that was sad, but, (and this is awful), it did not bother me so much. I can handle my family individually and on my time with no issues. However, when I am forced to be a part of a cheerful family function, I shut right the fuck down.

So, that was the start to my holiday. Now, I am going through finals which are sort of stressing me out. Actually, they are very much stressing me out. So what is my first reaction to stress? Drinking!! Drinking is awesome because, at least for a little, all those doubts, fears, and anxiety go away. I no longer drink to the point of utter annihilation, I instead have mastered the practice of moderation (sort of). I only say sort of because tonight was the exception. I drank, then foolishly went online and found pictures of the ex wife and the new boy toy. I want to point out that I am not a stalker nor did I purposefully search for pictures of her. I actually found them while on a FAMILY member’s page. Needless to say, it was an awesome visual that I definitely needed to see. Made me feel ultra fucking peachy. So here I am, now very much drunk and listening to songs that remind me of her…

How fucking pathetic am I?

I have killed people. People have tried to kill me, yet I cannot get over this one human being.

Fuck my life

Another Sleepless Night

Tags

loss, music, PTSD, relationships

Well, it is around 12:20 A.M. And I am already fairly sure this will be a restless night. It’s one of those nights that I insist on listening to music that brings me back to some of the best, and worst moments of my life.

The thing is, I know exactly what awaits me when I choose to listen to that playlist. I fell in love with these songs in the background. I was in firefights while these songs were blasting. I was successful and awarded while those songs were in my head. I miss loved ones who are long gone to this soundtrack.

Why do I subject myself to it all? Because at least I know that when those songs are playing that I am not living in this exact moment (this moment consists of anxiety, stress, and no sleeping). While I don’t necessarily enjoy being brought back to the battlefield, at least there I was surrounded by non-genetic brothers who would literally lay their life down in order to save mine. There I am not alone. Same goes for when Weezer’s Only in Dreams comes on and I am all of the sudden slow dancing with my ex. If only for a moment I can relive a time where I was the happiest…

I love and hate that music can transport me to the best and worst times of my life. I suppose I need to begin a new soundtrack to my life… Starting tomorrow, hopefully after getting even a couple hours of sleep.

Who knows…

Man’s Search for Meaning

Tags

depression, grief, PTSD

After many people suggested that I purchase Viktor Frankl’s book “Man’s Search for Meaning”, I finally got on Amazon and ordered a copy. It came in the mail today and I am hoping to gain new perspectives on life. Specifically I am hoping that by reading the journey that this man underwent that I can start appreciating the things that I do have rather than focusing on my losses. I am prone to sleepless nights full of “what if” questions that plague my mind. Tossing and turning over things that I have or had absolutely no control over. I fight those irrational thoughts and questions on a daily (and nightly) basis. All I want is to take control of my life again and enjoy what is in front of me. Fuck the negativity, accepting who I am will be the key to my success. Maybe this book will be the first stepping stone to reclaiming peace and happiness….

Losing my shit…

Tags

depression, PTSD, relationships

Hate using this place to whine about my every problem. I wanted it to be more of a creative outlet, yet here we are. I cannot get her out of my head…

There isn’t a day that goes by where her face, her laugh, her touch, and her absolute beauty does not go through my head. This month has been exceptionally hard for some reason.

I have had at least seven dreams this month, dreams about her and I being back together. These visions feel so real, that is, until I wake up in a temporary bliss that is shocked right out of me when I realize it wasn’t true. My heart hurts, and a crushing wave of depression sweeps over me. To put it crudely, it is the worst fucking feeling ever.

I have tried and tried again to rid her from my memory, but nothing has worked. No amount of booze, drugs, or meaningless relationships help. No amount of therapy or prescribed drugs has helped. 3 months of extensive inpatient care down the drain. Fuck seroquel, ambien, lunesta, trazadone, respiridone, Zoloft, Wellbutrin, Xanax, klonopin, and Lexipro (there are probably way more on that list). Cutting and burning never worked either.

I am not quitting life, I’ve been down that road twice and I realize that I am stronger than that. But these memories, these dreams are tearing me apart. I hurt all the time (dealing with the PTSD doesn’t help matters either). I just feel broken and until I feel unbroken I am going to be lonely as hell…

Thank god for my Persephone, my one true friend…

Persephone the Corgi

Tags

Animals, depression, Healing, PTSD

I know it has been a few days since posting. Being a full-time student interferes with my writing unfortunately. Tonight I felt like I should focus on something more uplifting. The one and only good thing I got from my failed marriage is Persephone, a now four year old Welsh Corgi. Persephone did not have a great start to her life. She was the runt and was born on a puppy mill. I hate the very existence of those places, but I digress. Persephone arrived via a photo attached to a text message while I was training for my upcoming deployment. One look at her and I told my wife, “get her right now! I do not care about the price”. She had such a tiny body but huge ears and big puppy eyes that were twinkling for the camera. So, 800 dollars later, Persephone entered our lives. I did not even meet her until a month later when I came home from training. Obviously, I fell in love immediately. She was tiny yet full of energy and was quick to give me a huge kiss (something she is still prone to doing). There was one problem, we had a Husky already and the two did not always get along. Persephone was bullied, but I was quick to defend my little girl. It wasn’t long that I had to ship off to Afghanistan. I missed her the whole time. I could always think about her and smile simply because I knew how playful and fun she was. Fast forward, past coming home, past the issues with the wife and I…

Obviously I was a disaster. I was forced to move back home and was unable to take my little girl with me. Luckily, she was able to stay with a relative. This transition from military to civilian life was extremely hard on me (that will be a story I tell at another time). It took me a couple years but I finally got back on my feet and when I did, Persephone and I were reunited! Despite spending so much time apart she remembered her dad! She jumped up on me and wiggled her butt. She gave me endless kisses. She has been with me for the last year. She has no formal training but I tell everyone she is my therapy dog. She has a way about her where she can make anyone feel like the most important person in the world. I know that whenever I return from class or running errands that she will be there waiting for me with a huge smile on her face. She senses when I am down, when I am panicking, when I have a bad dream, when I am crying. All she does is jump up on the bed and nudges my hand with her nose and gives me a huge kiss. While it doesn’t completely take away the awful feelings that are going through my mind, I at least know that little Persephone loves me and needs me just as much as I need her. Thank you little one for being so good to me.

How I got here…

Tags

PTSD, survivial, veteran

The road I have travelled down since the age of 14 has been an extremely difficult one. In 7th and 8th grade I did not fit in with anyone. I had almost no friends despite my relentless efforts to be one of the “cool” kids. I was small and was scared. I was so scared that I let a few of my peers bully me via AIM (old school shit yeah!). I convinced myself that I was worthless and weak. I cried a lot and always wished I could have run away. All of this depression and hatred did eventually force itself out of me. I got in my first fist fight in eighth grade. My attacker snuck behind me and threw a few solid punches to the back of my head. I turned around, threw a punch of my own, and split my opponent’s nose open. It was at this point in which I realized I was not worthless nor weak. I learned to not absorb every awful thing that was said about me. I never did become the popular kid (they were all douchebags anyways) but I learned to have some self confidence and to never back down from those bent on destroying my image. I am not a particular advocate of violence. There are definitely other ways of resolving issues. In my story though, violence was my only option at that point in my life. I tell this story today because it is Veterans Day and I cannot help but trace back the road that lead me to the military and the events that followed.

Tomorrow I will pick up where I left off and reveal even more of my story…

History

Tags

hardships, military, veteran

Trying to balance being a good husband, a good Marine, and functional alcoholic is a damn near impossible feat. No matter how much effort you devote to each one of them, one will always outdo the one you are trying to improve. In my case, my main goal was to be the best husband I could be. Sadly, my drive to advance in the military ranks interfered with that. What was even more of a disappointment was that my desire for being a functional alcoholic trumped the other two goals. It is ironic that it was the main focus of my life that destroyed my military career as well as my marriage. Luckily I was honorably discharged from the corps despite my constant fuck ups. What eats me alive to this date is how my marriage ended. I met my eventual wife while in high school. She was (and still is) the most beautiful girl I have ever laid eyes on. I did eventually gather the nerves to ask her to homecoming. I even made sure my shirt and tie matched her dress. From that point on she was my addiction. I couldn’t get enough of her. She made me laugh, she made me cry, she helped mold me as I entered manhood. The best part is that she was just as infatuated with me. We never strayed too far apart from each other. This went on for over a year, up until a friends death which tore my heart apart. After that tragedy I found it to be more important to spend time with my guy friends rather than her. She was no longer my apparent main focus. So I ended it with her, however, right after doing so I regretted it. It really is true that you never realize how important someone is until they are gone. I never officially asked her out again but we continued to maintain a physical relationship. At the time it was perfect, no commitment, yet I got to see her whenever I pleased. It was not until she started a relationship with another guy that I became unraveled. After I found out about the new couple I begged and begged her to come back to me. It didn’t have any effect though. Even after graduation and after I drove her and moved her in to college, nothing changed. She would text occasionally but my heart was still absolutely broken because I knew that her heart and mind belonged to another. It wasn’t until after I enlisted that she really started speaking to me again. I guess she fell victim to the saying that you never realize exactly what you have until it is gone. I left for boot and made sure that I wrote her every chance I got. I graduated just before Christmas and she was one of the first people I saw. She was still in her relationship but it was obvious that she and I shared a very close bond. After my break I headed to N.C. For a few weeks and then it was off to the desert for training. I somehow managed to get her to come out and visit and when she did I proposed. With tears in her eyes she said yes and we shared an incredible kiss. Things were exactly how I wanted them. I fought as hard for her as I did for getting through basic. Sadly, this is when my dear friend alcohol entered the picture. At first it was just a remedy for a stressful day but it was not long before it consumed me. I was now married, a full time Marine, and was unable to come home and just have a beer or two and enjoy my wife’s company. I had to put away at least 6 drinks every weeknight. It was even worse on the weekends. Now I was trying to balance my drinking, my wife, and my career. My drinking and career came first, my wife and I grew apart quickly. After my deployment my drinking completely took over my life. It was what I lived for, I thought about getting wasted 24/7. I would come home from work so strung out that it would take at least a few drinks to even me out. I was so wrapped up in my disease that I completely forgot that I was a husband. I actually enjoyed when she would leave because that meant I could get shit faced without getting judged. She would frequently take trips and I would make up excuses for why I couldn’t come with her. I shattered that marriage. I shattered the best thing that has ever happened to me. Fast forward a few years; she will not respond to my texts anymore. I have been unable to rid her from my mind. I still love her. People always tell me to reconcile with her but it would never work. The bottom line is that I put a job and alcohol before my soulmate. That is about as low as I could go. She is and always will be my biggest regret. That situation has pretty much doomed any relationship I may have from here on out. It is my fault though. The morale is that if you have the person of your dreams in your arms, then you must fight for that person, give up anything that is not absolutely vital. If you feel the same way as I did about my ex than it is worth it for that person will bring you endless happiness. Learn from my story…

I left parts of this story out, when I become more comfortable in this forum I will type this again without any edits.

239th Birthday & Veterans Day

Tags

veteran

This time of year is strange for me, for so many reasons. I’ll break them down for you.

1. Day light savings time. Yes when we “fall” back we technically gain an hour which is great for us people who love to sleep and curse alarm clocks to the deepest part of hell. The problem I have with falling back is that it now gets dark entirely too early. 6 o’clock hits and I am ready for bed. If I do go to sleep early then I get up early and it starts this vicious cycle of napping during the day and being up all night, needless to say, it sucks. I am way more down with spring ahead!

2. Deployment. It was around this time 5 years ago that I headed to Afghanistan. It is a strangely emotional time for me. It’s funny because the actual journey and entry in to Afghanistan was uneventful. In fact, on the way there our plane broke down and we got to spend almost a week in Germany! For whatever reason though, I start reliving a lot of what I dealt with over there around this time of the year.

3. Marine Corps birthday. Happy 239th Marines! I love our birthday. I probably celebrate this occasion more than I do my own birthday, or Thanksgiving, or Christmas… This holiday means so much to me. I love how every Marine on Facebook changes his profile picture to a shot of them in uniform, I love that EVERYONE gets tagged in celebratory statuses. But, with the good comes the not so good. This is also a day I think about the fallen Marines who I had the absolute privilege of knowing. It can be quite sobering but I also know that my fallen brothers probably want me toasting to 300 more years of Marine ass whooping.

4. Veterans Day. I am all about Veterans Day. I am not one to go out to every single place that is offering a deal and take advantage of it. Instead, I choose to relax, maybe even throwing on a good war movie and taking time out to honor those who are no longer with us. I suppose I should be grateful that the Marine’s birthday and Veterans Day are side by side. I do not celebrate Veterans Day like I do the birthday, but I definitely appreciate what this holiday stands for and although I don’t exploit every Veteran’s day bargain, I am happy that certain businesses offer so much to those that have risked everything and stood up for our country.

I will be sad and also happy when I go to bed tomorrow night. At least I know when I drift off to sleep on Tuesday that I will only have to wake up Wednesday and white knuckle it through New Years!

First Post

Tags

introduction, student, veteran

So, after years of writing and hearing people tell me I should publish my works, I decided to instead try blogging. This will allow me to remain semi-anonymous and will not make me feel like I am being judged. This post will be short. I only wanted to introduce myself. I am a veteran of the United States Marine Corps. I have deployed to Afghanistan and after returning I was left with a bad case of PTSD as well as a TBI that was a result of several explosions. My demons drove my wife away, a woman who I love to this date despite the fact that she bailed about four years ago. After leaving the Marines I was lost. I bounced around from job to job, surviving at a level just above homelessness. After years of forcing myself to work bullshit jobs that I hated, I decided to attend college. I started last fall, since returning to the scholastic world I have maintained over a 3.5 GPA and have been put on the President’s list as well as being inducted in to Phi Theta Kappa. I created this blog to share my stories, my thoughts, and my fears that I am not ready to voice publicly, this is my outlet to get all the fear and poison in my brain out.