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It's Not The Anger At 'them' It's The Anger With Myself

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Squip Mrbearsfriend

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I work overnight in the Frozen and Dairy sections of the local Wal-Mart...people leave me alone, I have boxes to vent my rage on. Life is, mostly, happy. The PTSD gets a bit out of hand...I disappear into the cooler or freezer and do some needed work in there. This mostly works.

While stocking the creamer, a new hire walks up behind me and starts to ask a question. I was already on edge. Came around leading with my elbow and realized...mid swing...'oh...co-worker' and stopped. He uttered a, 'sorry I didn't mean to startle you.' I managed to say, 'sorry, front line combat vet.' And we then discussed his question.

The discussion that happened later was pretty brief...face it...we're guys...these things aren't a lengthy disertation. I explained that i try to get to the new hires and ask them not to come at me from behind...he said, he's pretty laid back and doesn't like upsetitng people, but it's cool, now that he knows.

He's a smart one. For the rest of the time we worked together, he announced when he was about to walk behind me. Didn't have the heart to tell him, I was tracking him the entire time.

It got me thinking...'upset'...there was was no 'emotion' in that brief moment of wanting to cause grievous bodily harm. Never is.

But it's what I dread about myself. It's losing control. And knowing full well what goes through my brain in that brief moment of lost control. I've stopped myself, inches from knife-handing some dumbshit with a blackbelt that thought he was faster than me. The dumbshit thought it would be funny to scare me. He didn't have time to raise a hand to try to block, in the time it took to turn around and strike at his neck.

So, I'm sitting at home, when I should be at work. Wondering....what kind of animal am I?

I look at the extended time the current vets from Iraq and Afghanistan have had, and it makes that brief time in Desert Storm look like a pittance. Why am I in therapy when they have seen more for longer?

My therapist, smart bloke btw, keeps reminding me that each war is different. Each person is different. My memory, 95th percentile i.e. photographic, makes things harder to let go. That each war is different, as we didn't have a safe zone to relax in from day one we pushed across the border to the day we left.

It's moments when I'm on edge and lose control that remind me 'why' I'm in therapy, and need it. Now if I can only stop hating myself for losing control.
 
I agree each war is different after serving in both the 1st gulf war and Iraq and a few in-between and also having been to Afghanistan ( civilian ) the fist gulf war looking back on it was not as hard as Iraq & Afghanistan.
The thing with Gulf war 1 was it was constant non stop until it was over you didn't have time to think about what you had seen or where experiencing on return you were just let loose as if nothing had happened and had to deal with it no real support or help.
Iraq and Afghanistan on the other had you could get more down time where you body / mind could digest what was happening also you were more likely to be assigned to a cob / fob which made you more of a target due to the fact that the insurgents ( local workers on the base ) knew the daily routine i.e. meal times ect and thats when they would attack.
For me put me in a war zone & i can cope i can deal with the day to day shit and every thing else that comes along with it.
Put me among civilians and their bull shit and mentality then watch my tracer i find it nigh on impossible to deal with them.
 
Each war is different, but the commonality is our training. I was Navy. Now you would not expect squids to react aggressively but the training is in essence the same only for different situations.

I had a short lived career at a convenience store recently. Cashier. I'd snap at least 3 times a shift and have at least one flashback in the cooler (dark dank place with howling fans). No different than my regular career really. I thought a low level job would be different...nope. People of course are the main problem. Civvies are generally late for work, unaware of common courtesies, and f*ckwits about allot of things in the world..

The trick here is training.....again. Jimmy has likened this as having a "tool bag". This helped me in my early therapy sessions. Every time you go into that session try to pick up a mental trick to put in your tool bag. Practice it. Practice, practice, practice. It sucks some serious hind teat. But it does work. The breathing tricks, the mind focus switches, they do work.

And like any tool, if you don't use it, it becomes rusty and useless. You can pop pills and believe that is going to help exclusively, but those pills will wear off, and then you are left all alone with YOU again. I may be 46 years old, but in PTSD years I'm only 3 or 4. Only been addressing it for that long. And it's like starting life all over again. Seriously. You have to re learn how to eat, how to interact with people and you have to prepare for everything in a very elemental fashion. All I can say is practice, practice practice.

Peace
Wagon
 
SM,

You said. " So, I'm sitting at home, when I should be at work. Wondering....what kind of animal am I"? My Brother, I've asked myself that same question countless times. Even after al these years, when I look at the dark side of myself I still can't beleive what I see.

We are the kind of animals who survived, and used the survival skills that are still so much of the natural part of each one of us. Problem is, survival comes at a heavy price. And the payments go on forever.

But, you have to believe this. Life is still worth every penny. Each time I see my wife smile, have lunch with one of my kids or watch my grandkids play ball I know why I keep trying. And there can be so much personal satisfaction in so many little things each and every day.

Don't beat yourself up over the things you've lost because of war. Fact is, you didn't loose them. You set them aside because survival was necessary. There still there, but hard to find. Keep looking!!!!!

SD
 
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