A waste of days, and wasted nights

A year ago this week my nephew was in town on leave from overseas deployment in the US MARINES, as I left my apartment in my wheelchair with Zeus the service dog on handsfree waist leash a group of local gangbanger wannabes circled around us on skateboards aiming straight at Zeus and in the melee I was thrown out of my chair slamming into a right angled steel gate post. The sharp right angled crease of the hard steel slammed my left shoulder, the impact causing a 97% tear of my rotator cuff and fractured my shoulder blade and crushed two nerves to my left bicep and right there in that moment my active productive “who the fuck is disabled not me” life screeched to a screaming fucking halt!

I wrote many times about the five month struggle to find a surgeon who gave enough of a shit about the disabled to operate, most saying they did surgery to give back quality of life and in their opinion in the case of the disabled we had none in the first place so surgery was a waste of their precious coveted hospital privileges?

On February 4th this year I had all the above repaired except when the bandages were changed the surgeon forgot to suture one of my five surgical wounds! Yes and he replied “oh shit my bad”

I was promised “3months and you’ll be better than you were pre injury” eight months later and I can barely lift 5 lbs with that arm but 150 with my other?

The other injury to my life that day that surgery can’t touch was the injuryto my soul! That morning I was s 275-280lb 6ft4 excellent disabled “adaptive ” climber who hated staying home did 10 mile rolls in my hybrid off-road wheelchair for fun and climbed rocks like a spider.

Month by month with searing pain reducing me to a power chair and being house bound and nothing but my depression daytime tv and the fridge my depression agoraphobia and waistline all held a race to see who reached maximum growth first.

It was I think a draw, in eight months I won’t answer the door unless I absolutely have to, I won’t leave the house without Ella and it’s absolutely necessary my PTSD rules both my waking and sleeping(when if ever it comes) and depression understudies for it when it doesn’t come knocking and these days I am weighing in the 350lbs and hopefully losing.

It’s a vicious circle,I can’t climb because my arm is fucked I won’t climb because I’m too fat I can’t climb because I have to leave my safe studio apartment in flushing to do it and on the days I think I might try PTSD and depression toss a coin and it doesn’t matter which wins ultimately I don’t so I toss a coin between the tv the laptop and the fridge but fuck why choose there’s room for all but if these days keep up there ever increasingly less room for me so then I worry over my waist line and that’s just one more piece of shit to totally fuck my days!

All because the ” kangbangers” (Korean teens who think they’re the bloods and the crips if they rolled on skateboards and swapped soul food for kimchee!) chose to pull there shit on me and Zeus that October day.

Yes they might have done the physical damage but they have no idea  the mental and emotional spiral it caused? I was never someone who used the wheels under my ass as an excuse but these days the cats ride my chair more than me and Zeus while still alerting to seizures is more a lap dog than active chair pulling outdoors dog he usd to be.

I hold on for my final move to New Mexico there at least even being housebound means acreage and sunshine and fresh air , the world it serms just keeps building walls between us and the move, walls that would make trump jealous.

I know things will get better I hope at least physically I should it’s just undoing the damage this year has done is harder than any route or cliff I ever climbed and as I get closer to 60 than 50 taking the weight off is so much harder than I ever remember!

So sorry for not writing for so long but the fog had to clear long enough to form a cognitive concept and even this had to done in an iPhone because my laptop got waterlogged.

PTSD and what barely passes for surviving it

I’m hiding in a closet, it’s my brothers gun closet a rack along the back wall has a lee Enfield 303 caliber ex-military rifle, a Beretta under over double barrel shotgun, a pump action riot gun, an slr 7.62 mm military rifle and a shelf of ammunition in front there is a rack of his navy overcoat and my other brothers army overcoat and two other long coats and there I am small 7 years old squatting crying quietly hoping that tonight the monster won’t find me.
He’s coming down the hall I hear his heavy footfall and then it stops, maybe tonight will be the night he doesn’t touch he doesn’t hurt he doesn’t do the things he does, maybe hopefully just as I start to breathe easy a hand, a huge calloused hand pushes through the coats and grabs my hair another over my mouth and drags me out coats falling.
I am on a bed face down silent but shaking I learned long ago that to cry gives him the victory he is over me and “Mia, mia, mia where were you hon? Not here “ I’m shaking I’m in new York not Adelaide Australia and I’m over fifty, that’s the fourth time today in the daylight five times last night waking screaming what I call hell the doctors call PTSD.
Yes its over four decades later, yes I am a grown ass adult flashbacks and night mares don’t discriminate they don’t have a time limit a statute of limitations they play by their own rules. Mine are about a decade of almost daily molestation most you hear of are about battle and serving in the military but the hell is just the same.
Do you have a loved one who lives or just survives day to day with the hells of their past? No matter what the hell was, no matter when it happened the hell is just the same so if you love this person love them just a little bit harder when they come back to the room or when they wake up screaming in the middle of the night because without some ones love they might not be here tomorrow.

How do you explain PTSD to someone who didn’t go through hell with you?

PTSD these days is most often connected to our heroes the wounded warriors, those returning from the Iraq/afghanistan conflict, but the title corrects that misnomer it stands for post traumatic stress disorder. So infact any traumatic stress, any hell any rape any murder any memory that just won’t die can be the cause of PTSD.

Mine is from 10 years of child molestation, and even though I’m half way through a century on this earth in my darkest moments of depression on any day when the room is silent lets the monster back in. Infact anytime my brain quiets itself for the shortest time, anyone of many thousands of events ranging from improper touch to full on rape by my monster crawl back into my mind in full hi-def living color.
People ask “does it only happen at night? everyone has nightmares” nightmares like morning sickness is a stupid name, women get sick 24/7 when their pregnant and the nightmares become day mares ,afternoon mares so we just call them flash backs.

A relative I love dearly is a war hero, his hell was called Vietnam he came home in 1974 but to those who love him he tells his soul didn’t make it till at least 1984 I feel the same. My rapes ended at 14 years of age, but from 15 to 25 I was noone you wanted to know I was a martial arts expert and the world became my punching bag and I never met a bottle with a bottom I didn’t like or a bong I didn’t suck dry. The trouble was by 25 when I got my shit together, I had done so much damage 30 years later I’m still Putting out fires.
veterans suffer a similar fate, with our prisons full of veterans who ended up incarcerated before they found help. So how do you live with flash backs of monsters pinning you down and being penetrated? while at the same time you live with a family who turned their back, the very people who should be there when you want to scream don’t care how loud your screams are because they’re not listening.

If you’re finally lucky like I am you find someone who not only hears the screams they hold you till it stops, but the sadness is I have known many who were lost before they found their person to hold them. Service dogs for PTSD work but are expensive if you’re not in the military, and group therapy is ok if you were lucky enough to ever learn to trust again. Me I am a one on one person, but when my therapist told me ” a person with one traumatic event can expect healing to take years maybe decades, but with you the events number thousands so to use the term healed anytime in your life would be to unfairly build your hopes up”
At that moment I rolled away, because the thought of spending tuesdays for the rest of my life in a small room with a stranger was not what I saw my future to be.
Today I am writing this blog post, because to my left I see the usher waiting to let me know the hi-def movie that is my horror is loaded and waiting to show.

I’ll fill my voids with swimming and rockwall climbing and road racing and anything else that pushes life to the edge and makes my loved ones squirm, because they squirm but it reminds me I am alive and If I am alive I won I beat the bastard. Somewhere there is a disgusting obese elderly pedophile living the life of a hermit, because he’s not allowed contact with children or families or anyone that matters and today my wife of 15 years will come home love me hold me and sleep beside me. So is my life troubled with PTSD ? hell yes but I have a soft place to fall when it is at its worse, I have someone to hold me till I fall back to sleep and when I wake screaming and for me that’s good enough.

To my brothers and sisters In the struggle, I wish you know the love I know, and to our government bring our soldiers home now, what you call a war is nothing more than a factory churning out damaged heros who were in a country they should never have been in sent to fight a war that was none of their business and the thousands who have died should never have fallen and the hundreds of thousands who come home less than when they left are in need of love and understanding and help. So let them know if the government won’t keep their promise we the people have their backs.

May is PTSD month support the wounded warriors

ptsd month

May is PTSD month suppot the returned wounded warriors who live with the hell PTSD can be. I’m old enough to remember brothers and uncles coming home from Vietnam and a common saying amongst the returning nam vets was they demobbed and came home in 1974 but their souls made it home in 84. Let’s not make the same disgusting mistake this time support your wounded warriors not just this month but forever,

PTSD isn’t just for veterans

Our brave veterans do amazing things but at a horrendous cost, so many people think when the battle is over on the ground it stops but for those with PTSD it just transfers to the dreams the nightmares and every spare moment of thought it can crawl into. We sent them to war, so we owe them to be here to help in their darkest hour.
I wish that no one on earth had to live with PTSD, and its bad enough that our finest and bravest suffer it but they’re not alone.
Like me many, both male female straight or gay I suffer PTSD for a different reason the memory of childhood rape. The nightmares never leave when it happens just once, but in my case nearly every day from 4 to 14 I was molested raped or forced to perform acts on my molester.
Days like today are the worst, weeks and months like now are the worst, and I strive to fill every minute of my life with activity so I never have spare empty space in my life that my demons can fill.
Up until 3 weeks ago I was climbing rock walls every second day of the week, up to 20-30 hour a week training my disabled body back to fitness, but every day the pain in my shoulder went from bad to unbearable. Twemty years ago I seriously injured my shoulder and was in rehab for a year, then in 2010 I was on a Australian suburban bus when it had an accident and again I was thrown from my wheelchair and flew ten feet through the air and again injured the same shoulder.
So my 20-30 hours a week of climbing every second day dropped to twice a week,then to once a week to now I have been house bound for more than two weeks. Now I have to have possible shoulder surgery and I’m facing some other surgical tests, and now we have a snow blizzard so to put it in short order my life has stopped.
Every night I don’t want to go to sleep because I know my monsters are waiting, and then I don’t want to wake up because I know the moment I stop for a second they will slip into my head. My monster was my brother, I lost my family so I have no one to reach out to because my siblings didn’t believe me and my surviving parents buried their head.
So today like the last 30 I sit at home, and I write hoping the words will push the darkness out it rarely works.
I can’t exercise because of the pain and then I am more depressed because I worry my weight will come back.
People think when you’re sick a stay at home is wonderful, but when the sickness is PTSD it is a sentence without parole.There needs to be some way for the heroes that come home and people like me to have community, to be able to reach out because the darkness that is isolation adds to the hurt and multiplies the pain and sends your mind down paths that might end your pain but only be the horrific start of someone else’s.
I hate hospitals and I vehemently dislike strangers touching me, but I beg the universe for wisdom for my doctors to hurry up and fix my shoulder and clean out any possibility of cancer so I can get back to filling every second of my life with activity. To fill my mind with information and my world with noise, so the noise that is my demon can be constantly drowned out.
To all others who live with PTSD blessed be find a path and hang in there.

PTSD some have to live with it others see it as an atm!

In 2009 after many years of emotional darkness I was diagnosed with PTSD, it finally made sense and for three short months I had a wonderful  counselor in my native Australia.  Then it came time to return from my native Australia to New York a town I had called home since  meeting the love of my life My bashaert  Ella in 1998.

I set about finding a replacement for the amazing Lisa, the first one  was a witch and the other word that rhymes with it she thought it was professional to give a client a midnight call telling  me I was “too damaged goods” and she wanted out.

After another 3 months I found the seemingly qualified Jennifer and for about a year it seemed to work. Suddenly month by month it seemed I was more an ATM than a client to her, and it culminated with a 10pm abusive call reminiscent of a drunk ex calling a boy or girlfriend they still loved? What is it with therapists and late night calls?

Finally I thought I had found the right one, until I realized she never once talked about my PTSD, never once talked about the decade long molestation that caused it from my childhood but she too discussed her fee a lot? I swear I was starting to wonder if you swiped a card down my butt crack would my eyes read “DO YOU AGRE TO PAY A $3.00 FEE?”

So she was kicked to the curb, I added it up in 3 years I have spent almost the equivalent to the deposit needed to get a mortgage and all I ever got out of it was the phone numbers of three incompetents and an empty bank account?

So I am rolling away from therapy, I have a woman who has loved me for almost 14 years and if I have a say will still be here in another 30 or however long I have on this mortal coil, I have the dharma and now I have Zeus  my service dog, and he seems to know more about what I need when I’m down than all the so called therapists put together.

So from time to time If I seem down or a bit out of it or my posts get a little dark, I apologize in advance but I have for a long time lived and achieved by the credo “IF IT IS MEANT TO BE IT’S UP TO ME” and so shall it be.

What is Complex PTSD?

Reposted from a story by Adult survivors of long term child sexual abuse and incest – public forum on Tuesday, December 27, 2011 at 10:37pm ·

Complex PTSD

Some mental health professionals make the distinction between the diagnosis of post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD) and Complex PTSD.

The symptoms of PTSD apply well to people who have experienced a discrete or short-lived traumatic event, such as a motor vehicle accident, natural disaster, or rape. However, the symptoms of PTSD do not always completely map onto the experiences of people who have experienced chronic, repeated, or long-lasting traumatic events, such as childhood sexual and/or physical abuse, domestic violence, or captivity (such as being in a prisoner of war camp).

When it comes to these events, the symptoms of PTSD do not really seem to completely describe the psychological harm, emotional problems, and changes in how people view themselves and the world following chronic traumatic exposure. Therefore, some mental health professionals believe that we should distinguish between the type of PTSD that develops from chronic, long-lasting traumatic events as compared PTSD from short-lived events. The diagnosis of “Complex PTSD” refers to the set of symptoms that commonly follow exposure to a chronic traumatic event.


Events Connected to Complex PTSD

The traumatic events connected to Complex PTSD are long-lasting and generally involve some form of physical or emotional captivity, such as childhood sexual and/or physical abuse or domestic violence. In these types of events, a victim is under the control of another person and does not have the ability to easily escape.

Symptoms of Complex PTSD

The following symptoms stem from exposure to a chronic traumatic event where a person felt captive.

  • Emotion Regulation Problems

    People with Complex PTSD experience difficulties managing their emotions. They may experience severe depression, thoughts of suicide, or have difficulties controlling their anger. 

  • Changes in Consciousness

    Following exposure to a chronic traumatic event, a person may repress memories of the traumatic event, experience flashbacks, or experience dissociation. 

  • Changes in How a Person Views Themselves

    Symptoms in this category include feelings of helplessness, shame, guilt, or feeling detached and different from others. 

  • Changes in How the Victim Views the Perpetrator

    A person with Complex PTSD may feel like he has no power over a perpetrator (the perpetrator has complete power in a relationship). In Complex PTSD, people might also become preoccupied with their relationship with a perpetrator (for example, constant thoughts of wanting revenge). 

  • Changes in Personal Relationships

    These symptoms include problems with relationships, such as isolating oneself or being distrusting of others. 

  • Changes in How One Views the World

    People exposed to chronic or repeated traumatic events may also lose faith in humanity or have a sense of hopelessness about the future.