I haven't posted in a while, close to two months. My reasons are various and quite irrelevant. I've thought about discussing many different subjects, the 2nd Amendment, the issue of Abortion and Stem Cell research, and quite a few others.
The winning votes of my last poll, all 6 of them, were to discuss Iraq/PTSD and Anxiety. To a degree, I will.
The week has been quite the colossal meltdown for me, and the reasons have been both personal and my past.I prefer, to not discuss the personal aspects today, but more so the past. I've yet to locate a specific trigger, but the past two weeks have been sleep deprived, anxious, nerve racking. It is...the association between sleep deprivation and everything else that is the focal point of my symptomatic struggle. You sleep too much....you fall in REM sleep and have vivid nightmares of your abuse, atrocities, guilt riddled illogical scenarios. Too little...and you wander through your day irritable and in a haze, clinging to sanity until the duty day is over and you can express every emotion into a a cup of your preferred alcoholic beverage or other method of self destruction. So as I've bounded between these two states of dysfunction my supportive kindred have berated me about "taking care of myself" and the streak of self destructive behavior.
I have a negative self image of myself, for whatever reason, most likely my Childhood Sexual Abuse, and while I have improved in terms of self-confidence related to my job and professional life, I still struggle with one important aspect, personal confidence. So as I stumble, be it successfully and at a high-functioning level, I view myself as the Soviet Convict Battalions of WW2. Used by individuals as stop-gap measures, temporary fixes, fill the line, bridge the gap, and stop the pain, the pressure, regardless of the cost.
Do the most good, for the most people, before time runs out, regardless of what it may cost personally. For the privilege to say you left the world a little better, than you found it.
About Me
- @CombatJuicebox
- I am the soldier painting the peace sign. A contradiction. Torn between the life of inexorable contentedness and steadfast perseverance.The tribulations of a young man wrecked by guilt, attempting to discover salvation through prescription behavioral medication. While it may seem like a depressingly hopeless enigma, it simply is not. Like each voracious hurricane, there is always the eye of the storm, a moment of brightness and brilliance.
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