An Outsider

It is often too easy to feel like an outsider even in a world where I should fit in such military veterans, mental health patients, PTSD sufferers for example.  It is hard for me to feel like I fit in at most places because often people like to joke about and it's an area where when people make fun of the way I look or how I remind them of some inept cartoon character and then give me that nickname whether I wanted it or not.

At times I couldn't even stand being near my own family because they made fun of the way I looked or acted.  As if their own awkwardness wasn't funny but mine was hilarious.  I still harbor some serious hatred for a family of five never seemed to include me until they absolutely had to.  You know family trips where I was sat on a spare tire in the back of station wagon or jeep.  All because the older two didn't like my nervous energy sitting in between them.

And now the Mom who couldn't be bothered, the sister who could care less both think I should be taking care of them because they apparently can't seem to do it themselves.  Well if I can pull myself up and essentially grow up in a few years time without their help then by all means help yourselves.  Or at the very least ask someone else for help and not just because you think I am capable of giving you money to make your issues go away.  They weren't interested in helping me at all before I finally got my service connection but when I did they couldn't ask quick enough for some money from the backpay I had received of which they think I still have a bunch ( I don't spent it all).

And now occasionally since I had cut them off because I don't need any extra chaos in my life they try to use old friends or family they believe I haven't blocked to contact me to bring me back into their lives.  As a small child I often wondered why my Veteran Uncle was living way up North of Michigan's Lower Peninsula away from all of his family and as an adult now I totally understand.  They are so dysfunctional when they try to stick together they tear at each other emotionally with their words and actions especially since their Matriarch my Grandma died from colon cancer.

Why am I bringing this family crap out in the open you might ask?

There is likely someone who is reading this and is stuck in that same kind of environment who may need to know that it is possible to remove yourself from that environment.  It will likely take a lot of boundary issues where your family tries excessively to get back into your life especially if you are suddenly doing better on your own.  It will definitely entail some serious sacrifices on your part to get on your own two feet and yes I lucked out by getting my service connection but if you find the right mental health provider they might be able to help you get on your feet in a more positive less manipulative manner than your family might impose on you.

Keep your head up, keep pushing forward because even on my worst of days now I can sit in my own house, get in my own car and spend my own money all without one manipulation from anyone.

Survivor's Guilt

I have not served in a combat zone but I am what the VA considers a Dsyfunctional Veteran that suffers from PTSD and Bipolar.  I suffer from survivors guilt because I buried guys who wanted to be alive and that led to my self hatred and guilt from just being alive.  It started with one nightmare that seemed to never end and has left me feeling unaccepted, guilty and wishing that I never had to discuss it again it would be none to soon.

But that isn't the way things are in real life now is it?  I relive it each time someone asks me a question about when I served, where I served and what happened that led to my becoming a service connected Veteran.  I have to tell how I watched names of men I knew and many I didn't go down my TV screen in January 1991 and how I begged, that's right begged to go back in with the recruiters telling me as politely as they could, "Thanks but no thanks."  After all I was a RE 4 which means the Army wanted nothing to do with me ever again.

I know what drives a man who suffers from the pain and anguish of surviving when others didn't to the point of even contemplating suicide.  Although unlike most guys I can cry about someone I never even met when I think of how much I would gladly have taken their place in the ground to give them life again.  It would also take my pain away from my guilt, my sensitivities, my bipolar roller coaster with a tornado in a small room with no exit.

I survived several things in life that should have taken mine that doesn't include combat and each time I think about them I feel that much more guilty that I am here and those I cared about are not here anymore when they wanted to be.  Each day I hear of someone I know or care about having health issues that threaten their lives and they have no idea how much I would gladly take their pain away if it meant an end to mine. 

Suicide is a choice

Make no mistake about it suicide is a choice for those who make it.  I know it can be hard to understand and hard to conceptualize that someone in that frame of mind can make an actual choice but it is theirs to make.  I know that it can be hurtful to those who love and care for that person all too well for it cost me friends and loved one’s more than once in my lifetime.

I have spoke up on several occasions to loved one’s who came to DBSA meetings in my area regarding their suicidal loved one’s.  They want to watch over them but I tell them the truth.  You can watch over them only for so long till you are worn out yourself and begin to hate that person for putting you in that position.  I know it sounds impossible to believe but I have been there and seen the look on their faces sensing what they are thinking, feeling about me personally.

It can seem heartless to let them make the choice but for some it’s a better option than keeping them around making them suffer while their providers struggle to figure out what to do.  Locking us up in mental wards doesn’t help honestly it just keeps us in pain that much longer.  While they act like we are getting better taking meds and sleeping, attending groups till we tell them what they want to hear to get out.

Once out we go back into the same detrimental world we lived in before and head right down the same path we were already on.

If you have a similar story to tell contact the Senator going after the VA in this particular case Senator Tammy Baldwin.

Emotional Attachments

It can be difficult to bond emotionally to some people in particular those who are providing mental health services.  I’m not talking about falling in love or having a crush on your provider.  I am talking about that emotional attachment that comes from bonding when you let someone into your emotional walls.

That moment when over time you feel a closeness because they know more about you than most people actually in your life.  It can be difficult and especially if you are like me a Bipolar who has difficulties with focus.  It’s an amazing thing to feel when I am around someone who actually seems capable to both calm me down and at times keep me focused on the bigger picture instead of reacting to every small trigger that comes along.

Sometimes especially when I was in-patient that emotionally charged bodies of those around me can feel overwhelming and often I have no idea what is going on.  At these moments having a person around who can help me focus is a big relief.  But when the point of separation comes along letting go is yet another extremely difficult thing to master.  Even to the point where you might say look at pictures of that person if you happen to find them online just to feel some relief not unlike that of a serious relationship breakup.

Even though you are not nor were you ever in love with this person but that emotional bonding has taken place whether you like it or not.  And depending on the day or time etcetera it can be hard because to make things worse you open your mouth to the wrong person and the contact you might have been getting i.e. emails to just keep you in line just stop cold turkey.

There aren’t too many days that go by especially when I have to go to the place where she works at for other treatment and I can’t even attempt to see her unless I want repercussions that can be detrimental to my mental health.

What some people call Father's like me on Father's Day

Some people would call someone like me on father's day a deadbeat dad because for most of my children's lives I struggled to keep up with my child support forgetting my amount in arrears never got higher than $11k.  While by most standards this is still rather high up in amount I did it while fighting Bipolar/PTSD/Depression/Borderline Personality Disorder not too mention the litany of other medical issues I suffer from as I struggled to find and keep work after the divorce.

I know I am a bad father even in my own eyes but it often upsets me when some talk about deadbeat dads like anyone who has ever gotten behind on child support or not seen their kids is one.  For a long time I struggled to see my kids borrowing a car and the money for the 200 mile roundtrip even in winter time.  I fought hard to keep my mind at bay for four hours with my kids and at times all I kept hearing was that they could do something with their Grandparents on my exes side if I wasn't there. 

What struck me as odd about that was their Grandma who made the plans rarely tried to work around my visits to which I was entitled to by court order.  But all that time I kept from saying anything till they got to a certain age in 2011 where I couldn't take them doing it anymore and had the order changed since they wouldn't stop and Grandma couldn't seem to avoid making plans on the ONE SUNDAY a month for FOUR HOURS.

The one thing I am quite most do not know is that during the entire time since the divorce as like before the marriage I have been struggling to keep myself from even attempting to harm myself anymore.  I can live with my kids hating me I couldn't stand the idea of them being harmed any further if I had taken my own life or even had yet another failed attempt at it.  It is hard enough for me to bear that the thought of them having to deal with it alone was enough to make me hate myself even more for thinking about it.

They may hate me for the rest of their lives despite being raised in a "Christian" household that apparently can forgive anyone but me for anything.  I was always Bipolar enough to need to be supervised during Parenting Time but was never Bipolar enough to not be able to work.  And of course now that I get a service-connected pension from the VA the only thing they want from me is of course Money.

I don't mind paying my fair share of child support but I cannot stand being described as a deadbeat daddy who is supposed to pay extra for school functions I am not allowed to attend or know anything about other than they need the money and expect some from me.

Not every Deadbeat Daddy/Father chooses to be that way.

Yes, I see dead people

Not like in the movie with Bruce Willis but in my dreams both day and night I can still see and often hear them crying out to me.  I wish there was a pill I could take that would just make it all go away.

I see faces of some of the young men I buried on Funeral detail in the Army in the 80's.  I see relatives who died while I was young and those I was haunted by after their deaths while and after my service in the Army.  At least one of those haunts me to this day for I saw myself die the same way one night in California and a few days later she was gone the same way. 

I am left wondering if I was supposed to do something or it was just a punishment for the way I treated her months before while home on leave.  I couldn't even take the time to wave at her for both the way I had been treated in the past and the choices she was making for herself were disappointing to me.  I admit it I was being judgmental about something I knew little about other than family scuttle butt.

So now I dream of her and many like her over my lifetime as if I am to pay some type of penance for being born.  Some don't take me seriously when I say it like I'm just being dramatic and making it up but if they took the time to look deep into my eyes they might actually see I am not.  Some days when I see them in my dreams it's happier times and sometimes I punished for hours at a time as it repeats over and over again till my mind is so wound up I don't want to sleep for days.

As it happens I am currently in mid cycle of dreams where I can either sleep for days or can't sleep at all often because of the dreams.  I mean would you really enjoy dreaming about dead people with whom you would willingly take their place only to realize that you are going to wake up still Bipolar, still overly-sensitive to exterior environments, still afraid of people especially most men.

It can be funny how some people react to a hat

While I was in an in-patient program a friend gave me his "Dysfunctional Veteran" hat to help me keep the idiots away.  And I often get the oddest reactions from some people who will either give me an exceptionally wide berth or stop and stare at me like I'm not a "Dysfunctional Veteran".

Today happened to be one of those days where I was wearing my Bluetooth headphones and in my own world with my hat on.  At one store there was at least one older guy I assume may or may not have been a Veteran himself who stood there staring at me like I was a chimp at the zoo or something.

At another store the store salespersons were taken aback at how friendly I actually was with them wearing my hat as if just because I was dysfunctional I wasn't able to hold a polite and friendly conversation with someone.  The sales manager actually thought it was "Funny" the hat not my conversation.  I'm not sure exactly what kind of funny he thought it was while I was spending a couple hundred at their store I won't mention, Fart Tan.

At another there was a couple talking in the produce aisle who went around the square display to get out of my way only to wind up where they were at again.

I'm not going to hurt anyone I just as the hat says, "Want to be left alone."  I don't want to be laughed at for the way I look or dress.  I don't want to be made fun of because I wear that hat or others like it.  I don't want to be asked, "Are you a Veteran or just advertising?"

Just be polite, smile or give me the man's nod and be on your way.

I'm tired, alone and seeking acceptance in all the wrong places

Yet another week of going out in public and hoping, praying almost for some kind of acceptance with some form of desperation and in all the wrong places.  Trying to find acceptance in a building full of dysfunctional people is never a good thing and yet there I was again feeling alone and hoping for acceptance at every turn.  Never going to happen.

Instead, I feel like an outsider hoping for someone who can understand me is willing to translate to those who have no freaking clue what is come out of me.  My words seem a garbled mess in a world full of clear cut communications.

My manic mind flowing in all directions begging me to either shut it off or go along hoping for the best.  The best never seems to come along but the words come out in spits and sputs.

Foul stench of poetry and short stories wreaking havoc on my own mind as they drag the truth out of me that no one seems to hear or comprehend except of course for a finite chosen few.  The barren soul whisking away the bitter ends of my candle burning at both ends with no end in sight.

Imagine being a nearly 50 year old male and still emotionally feeling like I am a 20 something.  My face plays along not looking my age but nearly 20 years younger and frustrating me even more.  No matter how old I get I still am left wishing for peace that at this point appears to be not coming anytime soon to my manic mind.

As I age/Self-Hate Issues

As I get closer to my birthday I start to think about again not celebrating, lying about my age after all I can say I am 30 something despite turning 48.  Some tell me it’s great to look so young of course they are not the one’s who don’t get taken seriously when they something someone my actually age might say.  Rather they look at me oddly as if I have not earned that right to say something about something they think i’m not old enough to know anything about.

I’m so tired, mentally that I wish someone could understand how I really feel not that person I hide behind.  I have tried to express myself to mental health professionals but they just see a Vet who suffers from PTSD (Non-Combat related) & Bipolar/Borderline Personality Disorder.  I never think anyone really, truly hears what I am trying to say.

I know a lot of people who think they hate having me around when they have no idea how much I agree with them.  They are also the same people who insist that I not attempt to harm myself because I am worth more than that.  Which message do I take in?  Which message do they think I actually believe in the first place?  I believe the one where no one would miss me for more than a week if I was dead. 
I am filled with such self-hate that I often flip myself off in the mirror because I know what I am, an animal someone forgot to have enough compassion for to put me down.  I keep waiting for my body to quit but the damn thing just won’t give up on me.  I am likely going to grow to a ripe old age while looking younger and wishing I had the strength to join my idol, Robin Williams...

I had to leave the convention early

Some of you may understand what it's like when you have certain sensitivities that you have a hard time being around certain people.  Often you don't understand why you just know from the minute you first see them you need to stay away.  And then you are stuck in a place where you cannot escape them unless basically you run away.

We were at an Indian Casino and yes, I had to do it in order to prevent issues from going any further.  Some people for me just are unbearable to be around at times.  This particular time it was a female and from the moment I first saw her I knew I wasn't going to have a good time if everywhere I turned she was there...and yes that's exactly what happened.  And she could tell there was an issue was as usual thought it was hilarious to torment me everytime I made that face when she got within a my range of view.

I didn't think it was particularly funny considering I was a peacetime Veteran who happens to be disabled in a building filled with COMBAT VETS.  I felt like a shrimp in a room filled to the brim with sharks.

Last night it came to a head at one point and my mind was beating at me for something I have been trying hard to not think about, suicide.  And at one point a guy I had made the acquaintance with reminded me about the Banquet on Saturday night where not only would she be there but likely dressed to the nines.  I couldn't tell if I was repelled because I felt something was eating at her inside mentally or because she is a reminder of what I will never have in my life again, a beautiful woman, a relationship.

So this morning I didn't get up and go into the meetings I was supposed to attend I stayed in my bed.  Woke up at about 11am and began to mentally prepare to leave early.  Packed, put on my Dysfunctional Veteran hat and left as quickly as I was able to do. 

I hate myself for leaving but I was hating myself more for being so upset because I was there where yet again I didn't feel like I belonged.  The thought of turning in my membership card has been eating away at me since I started driving home.  I crossed the bridge (Mackinac) and stopped for something to eat which has led me to this posting I am writing as I sit and eat...

I am Technically a Disabled Veteran

I am what I like to call a “Technically Disabled” Veteran that is to say that I am qualified for the DAV because other younger Veterans suffer from similar mental health issues that allowed me to even qualify for any kind of treatment let alone my disability compensation.

I am what is known as a Cold War Era Peacetime Veteran, for my service I did nothing but train and act like a soldier till I became so mentally ill that I wound up in the hospital, lost my security clearance and was Honorably Discharged with no real benefits to speak of.  The VA wanted nothing to do with me to the point where I stopped even asking for medical help.

Twenty years later, a door opened and I was being pestered by a Vietnam Veteran I grew up around to go ask for at the very least medical help.  This was after a door was left open when other young wartime Vets took their own lives and social media demanded action for people like me.  I entered the system nearly twenty years to date of my discharge with a ton of guilt and a heavy heart.

 All I asked for in the beginning was to make me comfortable till my body finally quit on me.  That was in 2009 since I have been in-patient and got more help but nothing can take away that feeling of guilt.  I feel guilt for possibly taking another Vets chance of getting treatment and when I am at a Disabled American Veterans meeting I see guys who are missing limbs, blind in one or both eyes, etc...  All I am is a peacetime Veteran who was triggered by a funeral detail assignment.

I know I needed the help, I know it likely saved my life what there is of a life but I can’t help but feel as if I am lost wishing I wasn’t alive anymore.  No one can possibly understand that feeling.  I feel it engrained into my mind and it begs me at almost every social step to give into it without regret.  I want to, I really do but I am afraid I will go out without anyone actually missing me.  Not the me who could do something for them or give them something but ME.

Do you ever notice odd number things in life?

For instance I was on US-127 and passed by Exit 127...what popped into my head, yup the number thing...

It has gotten better over the years but at times it just stuns me how stupidly I feel when the number thing hits me at odd times...

The damage a few words can do

Ever called your child, "stupid", "dumb" or even just "lazy"?

Have any idea the damage can done long term with just a few negative words to a small child can be later in life? 

For me they cause me great discomfort and an intense sense of failing no matter what I do.  I was always told I didn't know how to do anything while sitting at the holiday table with the whole family laughing, except of course, me.  Even as a young adult who was struggling to find his way in the world as an Army Soldier who had recently been signed for a $3 million rig for which I was responsible for as well as they other soldiers assigned at the time I heard how I didn't know how to do my job.  How inept at everything I tried I was.

Every failure felt like daggers in my mind killing off what was left of my confidence and spirit.

So the next time you even think of calling your child Lazy as a young adult which they may be, they might also be crawling inside of themselves because of the lack of support you have provided them over the years or quite possibly a mental illness they cannot even bare to bring to your attention.