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Its A Very Accurate Thing

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You nailed it!!! One foot in front of the other. Pick out what you think is the best way to go and put the shoulder to the rock. Actually, it's the only thing keeping me alive...gotta keep movin. I stop. I'm dead. That thought is what drags my ass outta the sack each day.

I'm a "projects" guy. I have to have some project "I've got to do". Fix this on the Jeep or put that can on the trailer. Today, I cleaned the rust out of an old gas "Jerry can". Woop-de-f-------do! But it's what I do. Keeps me going and I get things done inch by inch.

That just gave me a thought. And I see it here and there in various threads. WE WANT TO GET WELL AND WE WANT TO GET WELL NOW!!!!! You can't push PTSD. You've been rewired. You're not the same person that you were before you went in to combat! And again, and again. You're not going to be able to flip a switch and be the same person you were. So stop pushing yourself. Give yourself time.

Sarg
 
...stop pushing yourself. Give yourself time. Sarg

I know your right Sarg. But I can`t because it means I sit and wallow in my own self pity day in day out. We brought a house 4 year ago, and totaly rebuilt it, gutted the whole place and then I ended up in the clinic and since then I can`t get my shit together, not even to put a f*cking door handle on the cellar door. how f*cking sad is that. it`s 2 handles a bar to connect them and a mini screw, and each f*ckin day I come out with some excuse. and I know its an excuse! But I still can`t do anything about it. I just sit there and think about the door and wallow in my shitty puddle of self pity.

Which means I give my self time, I sit and wallow, so I come out with things I need to do, which I just can`t, so I go and sit my shitty puddle again, which means I have to wait and give my self time, which means I wallow even f*cking more.

What I need is some one like you Sarg, some one who is on the road, to grab me by the scruff of the neck put a jerry can in my hands and take me through it, step by step. some one to do the "Happy dance" with after I have managed to clean my own backside sort of thing.

F*ck that sounds pathetic..
 
Give yourself a break mate. Sometimes I have trouble tying my shoelaces. It's a concentration thing. I bought a new BBQ and had to get the boys to assemble it. I almost threw it in the pool. Could not follow simple instructions
 
I just don't have patience any more what so ever. I hate even waiting in a line that is two people long.
That is why I want to move to the country.

I do like creating food and also love woodcraft
 
Ha! Guys, I've got to laugh at slot A into hole B or whatever. Couple of years ago, I bought a China-made product and knowing the drill, I spread everything on the floor so you could identify each and every item, so you know what part goes where. So I sit down and unfold the instructions...AND THEY SENT THE WRONG DAMN INSTRUCTIONS for a completely different product!!! I got to laughing so hard, I nearly had a stroke. A short trip to the store and I had the right instructions but what a hoot!

Angle, I didn't say stop and wallow. I said don't push yourself so hard. When you push PTSD, it pushes back, hard. That's what led to your frustrations. The harder you pushed putting that handle together, the harder your PTSD pushed you into anger.

Here's what old age and experience has taught me...Sit down and read the instructions (it's better if you understand what the Chinese believe to be English) "place tab A into slot B"...tab A doesn't FIT into slot B. Read instructions again. "Tab A into slot B". Doesn't fit, but tab A fits slot C!!!! Eureka!!!!! Put tab A into slot C, polish the damn thing up with a rag so it's nice a shiny and tell all your friends "it came that way from the factory". You cheat the Beast out of a lunch of anger and you have a very unique door knob! Hell, you might even start a trend.

I know I'm making light of a very difficult situation but we need to lighten up on ourselves. We didn't invite the Beast in, he broke down the friggin front door and forced his way in. Fighting the son of a bitch hurts no one but ourselves. We need to find ways to work around him....tab A into slot C.

It wasn't a perfect world when we marched off to war, so why do we try so hard to make it so now?

My paltry little two cents...

Sarg
 
.......We didn't invite the Beast in, he broke down the friggin front door and forced his way in. Fighting the son of a bitch hurts no one but ourselves. We need to find ways to work around him....tab A into slot C.

This is why I love the site and you guys. I am going to fit that damn door handle this week, so that the Beast can find his own way out! Its gotta help if he can open the door! Right?

.......It wasn't a perfect world when we marched off to war, so why do we try so hard to make it so now?
My paltry little two cents...Sarg

Thats a damn good point Sarg! I still have no f*cking idea why we try, but its still a f*cking good point. It wasn`t! It isn`t! and, It never will be! its just, finding our place in it, is damn hard..

two cents well spent, Cheers Sarg
 
Thats why we have this little gem of a sanctuary. We can actually be ourselves on here without being criticized.
We can say what we want and if we offend anyone, we are man enough or woman enough to apologise.

I don't think we will ever fit in anywhere properly. That is why veterans with PTSD find their fortress, a place to isolate. I even know guys that manage their PTSD so well, they function normally in society, but every now and then 'Whammo', they disappear for a few days.
 
Now see thar, ya went and made my whole damn month! Sarg

Its 2351hrs on Friday 4 Nov 2011, and guess what??

I have just fitted the handles to the cellar door!! Ok its taken me since Tuesday, but I have actually done it! I feel f*cking great LMAO, with a bit of luck it will carry me through the weekend.

Cheers Sarg.
 
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