The Beginning Of Another Downward Spiral…

 blog pics

And so it begins again.

200 mg of Zoloft tends to keep me in a constant state of blah. I don’t tend to get irritated as much, but I don’t get excited as much either. I actually feel like I’m floating through life avoiding my emotions. Which in some cases saves my ass from constant bickering with my family, and actually pulling my car over to bash the women holding up traffic because she’s texting while the light turns green. I hate that. One thing it doesn’t do is keep the hope of wanting a normal life from creeping into my brain and wanting to do extraordinary things with my life other than bitching about my disorder through a blog.

I have this habit of doing the worst thing in the world, getting on google. I go rounds with myself from researching awesome career fields that I’d love to try a hand at. I even go to great lengths of signing up for courses online buying hundreds of dollars worth of shit I don’t know anything about, but I know I need it. And taking the first steps of starting my new life. Everything is going to be grand. I just need to sit here and wait for a “light” conversation with (I know she’s probably nice) lady and talk about the process of getting to where I “think” I want to be.

And then my reality, my mushed up fucked up brain takes control. Let’s call my PTSD Fred. Fred likes to barge in at the most inappropriate times. For some reason Fred thinks it’s okay to turn up the temperature 50 degrees to make me start sweating in this lady’s air conditioned office. He also enjoys putting me on a jack hammer so my voice shakes every time I want to say something. It’s annoying having to wipe my brow and take deep breaths any time I want to contribute to this conversation I’m not concentrating on at all. Fred, in my opinion is a fucking bastard. He ruins my life when things “seem” normal. I hate Fred.

So I thank the lady, give her a hand shake and tell her I’m super excited about starting my new career and walk out of her office with a handful of paperwork. It ends up in the garbage can out back. I slip into my car and drive a few hours so my nerves calm down and Fred goes back to whatever part of my brain he resides in.

Where to begin….

I finally started this blog after much debate with myself. I’ve gone back and forth wondering if it would do me or anyone any good to share the inner thoughts and conversations I have in my own mind. Originally, I wanted to title this “My Dialogues With PTSD”, but I didn’t want to limit the conversations. The world is ever changing and our thoughts and behaviors tend to follow suit. At least mine tend to.

Just to be blunt…This is a raw, rude, and sometime offensive blog of conversations I have with myself or the way I perceive the world. Sometimes I like to tell myself that things are going to go back to the way they were, but it’s time to be honest and accept the shitty truth. I have come to learn, even though circumstances may come out to be the worst, there is always a lesson to learn.

I’m hoping once the word gets out, it will help others to let out the conversations they have with themselves; the self-doubt, arguments, constant havoc, confusion, and sometimes twisted humor that goes on inside of our minds. We mask these conversations daily. We hide our most inner thoughts that are  destroying us little by little every day. As I carry a heavy burden of internal conflict, I’m hoping confronting these conversations and letting them out in the open will encourage others to do the same, and let go of the war within.

You’re welcome to share your conversations, and hopefully find some twisted way of accepting the way things are now.

Time to bring out the demons.