Things only get worse, never better.

[Survivor3]

Ah man, sorry to hear that.

 

[Friday]

I might hike to the woods today. I still have a bunch of tourniquets. That's basically a garotte if you put it on your neck, right?

It nearly always freaks therapists & med pros out when I list the 6 different ways I could off myself, walking across a room, when they ask if I have the “means” (snort) to kill myself. The ones it doesn’t freak out? I tend to keep. But it’s just like… you’re f*cking kidding, right?!? People are stupid fragile. The only time in my life I HAVE NOT been able to kill myself was when I was naked, in a concrete block room. It’s physically impossible to strangle yourself, or break your own neck, as your arms go numb in self-defense & drop away. That’s why people USE ligatures. To get around the self defense mechanism.

My kids aren't coming to meet me off the 'plane.

My mum just transferred me a twenty and said to get a taxi to my hotel, so my parents aren't meeting me, either.

The friend who told me to move in with her isn't replying to my messages.

I should not have come back.

I’m a military brat.

In my entire LIFE? I NEVER got to meet -or wave goodbye to- my dad off the boat (he was in submarines) or plane. Ever. Not once. On the MWR TV station, it always had these scenes of wives/kids saying farewell & hello… and. I. Never. Got. To. Not. Once. Dozens and dozens of both deployments to/from war & normal heading out to / returning from sea for 6mo.

It was a choice my parents made for me, that I recognise & respect; as both an adult & combat vet. But I haaaaaaated it as a kid. Despised. Loathed. Tore shreds off of people as only little girls & teenage girls can. But as an adult? And a combat vet? When *I* return??? I’m a hot mess. I need a ….moment… to be “on” again, and a minute (read days/weeks) to be “sane” again. My parents chose to protect us from that very raw reality.

As a parent, yourself? You’d probably make the SAME choice, if you weren’t a hot mess, suicidal as fawk, hair triggered asshole, yourself.

And you are.

Because what you’re caring about is what YOU need (not want, NEED, to live & be okay) not how it’s going to affect/effect your girls seeing/feeling you THIS raw.

As a parent, in your right mind, you care about your kids first. Not the DESPERATE need to hold them in your arms, see them with your eyes, prove to yourself that they’re alive. (Because. Until you do? They’ve been raped to death and set on fire. Whether they’re 2 or 20. At a GUT instinctual level, they’ve died, badly, and you didn’t even try to stop it. You NEED eyes on, hands on, because you’re a hot mess, coming from a place where that’s normal; anyone you don’t presently have eyes on? ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ Is dead, or worse, dead badly. Hands on, meanwhile confirms you’re not crazy and imagining them there.

So. As an ADULT, and a combat vet? I sooooooooo respect my parents’ decision to keep us away from that raw electric …INSTINCT ON FIRE… so when my dad DID come home? A few days after he was “supposed” to? He was himself. And then my parents would (essentially) lock us out of the house for a few weeks. (As an adult I know that meant they were f*cking like rabbits. As a kid? Leave after breakfast, come home for dinner, and bath/bed followed immediately; so don’t come home to eat until the last available moment. Bunnies. My folks. For 30+ years. Shrug. As a kid, on base, it was just “normal”… what “everyone’s” parents did after the fleet came in, and we got to run wild and free for a spell, before the RULES were reinforced). Either way? As a KID I never had to see my dad hurting. As an adult, I know he did. As a parent (myself) I profoundly respect how hard a choice that was. As a kid? All I knew was hooooooooow MUCH my dad loved us. Always. Distance is NOT seperation. Every second he was with us? He was WITH us. As a combat vet & parent? I know how insanely difficult that is. He still? Did. It. Always. Always lit up when he saw us. Always. Virtually SOAKED us in, he was so concentrated on us. Feeling THAT beloved? Lasts yeeeeeears. f*ck a few thousand miles and months. Still there. Always there. Still is. Decades later.

Your kids? LOVE you.
Your ex is being a nightmare.

Which matters more?

 

[Paladin_141]

Nothing matters.

For the second night in a row I have been drinking. Tonight, though, I railed some Romanian girl. That's not important, though. Nothing is important. All just dust in yhe wind, right?

Whatever I had is gone. Whoever I was is gone. This place is just full of ghosts now. I need to get back to work.

Tomorrow. I'll book the flights. I'm tired tonight and typing is haaaaard.

 

[Friday]

Sign with better people.

The person who kicked you that warning would be vying for 1st / 2nd on my list of whose number to call.

1st - They cared enough to drop a dime, and were dialled in enough to know to.
2nd - Trust issues - Was that real, or were they recruiting someone they knew would be cash poor, as they were breaking contract, & grateful?

Go with your gut. Your gut may be f*cking you up IRL… seeeeeriously, you hung the moon as far as your kids are concerned, even if they’ve the fight/bravado/spine/balls (and they do, if they’re YOUR kids) to either snarl atcha, or buck their mum and come flying into your arms the moment they see you … but is likely spot on in country. Zero second guessing. Full stop. Whomever you WANT to work for, or team up with? Go with them.

Kick ass. Take names.

Or not. The Maldives & Belize are both spectacular.

Get your head on straight. Whether that’s doing, or sorting. Then go get your kids.

 

[Paladin_141]

Yeah.

I have to decide. They guy who gave me the heads up works for a fairly well-known outfit with a lot of resources.

The other option is a smaller outfit put together from the ground up by a good friend of mine.

Decisions, decisions.

 

[Friday]

Decisions, decisions.

Flip a coin.

You’ll know midair where you really want. Or not. And Fate can decide. Fate’s a fickle bitch.

 

[Paladin_141]

I spent most of last night in a low-budget local remake of First Blood.

After the phone call from the social worker telling me my daughter had changed her mind about meeting, I decided to go hiking into the woods and not come out.

About 12 hours later, realising that, due to my physical fitness, cold and exhaustion were probably not going to do the job, I decided to come out of the woods and go to a particular hotel with significant sentimental meaning and get a few drinks to open up the capillaries and speed me on my way.

Sadly, it wasn't open to non-guests anymore, so I headed back out, just in time to see a response car pull up. I ducked back into the trees and watched them search around the village for a while. Then they headed into the trees.

I followed them at about 100 metres behind as they crashed and stumbled through the forest, waving torches around. I was somewhat amused but also annoyed at the way my plans were, once again, not working out.

After a while of this, though, I became concerned and realised that these guys, or others who might be out looking, would get lost or hurt. Searching after dark is risky, especially in the woods. I'm surprised they even tried.

Anyway, because I wasn't there to get anyone else killed, I stepped out into one guy's torch beam and asked if he was looking for something. He nearly shat himself.

Anyway, the rest of the night was just me getting arrested, taken to the loony bin and having a chat with a doctor who realised that I'm actually completely sane, with a slight C-PTSD-shaped dent, and my life just f*cking sucks, so they let me go.

The police took me to my parents' house. They'd gone to bed. My dad answered the door and was none to happy to see me, so the police drove me home to my completely empty flat, where I spent the night curled up in a shivering ball on the bedroom floor.

Today, in a desperate effort to evoke some part of my old self, I bought a Christmas tree. I have decorated it. Partially. I've made bacon and eggs and a pot of tea and I'm wondering what to do next.

 

[Survivor3]

f*ck mate !!! Just what you needed right?! Well done getting a tree and decorating it. Can you get a bed sorted over the weekend?

 

[Paladin_141]

Can't believe I nearly went full Rambo.

Yeah, got a nice oak, king sized bed coming on Monday. Cost a fair bit, even second hand, but f*ck it.

I also went to my storage unit to pick up civilian clothes and got distracted. Came home with my record player and a bunch of LPs instead.

I'm going to hire a guy to empty the unit for me. I can't carry all of that. Least of all the bookcases.

 

[Survivor3]

Good idea. Your doing great .

 

[Paladin_141]

Why is life such a slog?

Why is it that I get needled and slapped about so frequently? Minor things, but constant, that just make it so hard to enjoy life?

I don't ask much, but get far less.

I will make thisnplace comfortable for the season, then get ready to head back tonthe war. For good, this time.

I will miss my books and music, though.

 

[In the weeds]

I think you are doing a great job at making your place look good for the season. I hope you get to see your kids this season. Or at least before you head back to the war.