[sick-of-being-sick3]

ptsd

such a wide broad word

but we always associate with war

no any one can have ptsd

my counselor and i have gotten as far as we can the rest is me dealing with it and taking control

some was at a young age

a school though abuse and locking in a closet was how to deal with adhd

then in the 90s i became a lead alarm investigator we had to go in with the police fire and canines we had the keys and disarm codes

the good memory's are all that keep my sanity

i saw a good friend respond with me to a panic alarm it was a domestic fight we stayed out side and helped if the officer needed

one a 9 year old got dads gun(we dont know why to this day maybe protecting mom?)

next thing like a flash it was fast next he was all over my uniform

worse than that i have to mace a 9 year old and listen to the ungodly screams

you start learning life early start dying inside

to many funerals memorial remembrance ceremonys

and the dirt the scum the underside of life like tar wont wash off

and then a mom raced a train holding a dying 5 year old ems backed off and gave the no use signal

so many more i wont gross yall out with

it not only tears the life of the person dying but it tears your soul your heart and grows cold till you just dont feel anymore like a blank sheet of paper

your still good and nice to people you uphold the badge rules to serve and protect people and property

allot of law enforcement dont realize security my job a unspoken law of the privelidge of wearing that badge the sever and protect people and property and always help a broth in trouble or down

some dont take seriously and dont deserve it i was raised military tight straight lines 10 belt keepers none of this belt sag like on tv everything proper

and always used a retainer gun holster retainers you could unclip the top but not pull out till you squeezed by the trigger

spit shine boots i always wore military boots saved me from lost of dogs

back to it i still see screams and faces i still have trouble looking at life knowing the evil and monsters hiding in them

i dont and cant watch the news

you know most traumatic is when your in a fight with death

i fought death on those people to feel the cold grip slide away

i have had to fight death in my life to many times jobs and recently meds

the last one they said my vitals were so low if my wife hadent found me 10 min or so i would have died

i have heard so many times i should have died from this or that i lost count

and bad depression days i scream why is this funny keep bringing me back to suffer more and other crap i feel robbed stolen my chances taken from me

other days every sec every little thing in life matters i have been through to much and tought life is so important

giving and helping is so important

i will never escape my demons my past but i can manage it

like the song says im friend with the monsters under my bed get along with the voices in my head

stop wasting your breath trying to save me

a song has meaning i find allot of songs that can mean things to us

me stop trying to fix me and give the emotions back im as fixed as it gets

i cant imagine Nam gulf war the current war the hell and then back to a country thats the same as Nam pretty close dont care wont help

do you realize how many homeless are vets how many suicides

i cant stand for or behind a country that does those things and allows them

my hats off and respect to those who gave so much and seen worse than i can ever imagine

thank you

[anon1028]

hang in there bro it sounds like you have seen a lot of bad things and I'm glad you are seeing a therapist to help with it. This room is it good place two let off that steam

[Lara]

My dad had PTSD.

He'd been POW in Changi prison and then on Burma Railway for most of WW2.

In those days they called it shell shock and it was never really recognized or treated and certainly not understood.

Real shame too.

look after yourself sickofbeingsick

you too of course, markneil.

[sick-of-being-sick3]

thanks so much guys you take care too

[anon1028]

Originally Posted by Lara

My dad had PTSD.

He'd been POW in Changi prison and then on Burma Railway for most of WW2.

In those days they called it shell shock and it was never really recognized or treated and certainly not understood.

Real shame too.

look after yourself sickofbeingsick

you too of course, markneil.

he saw brutal things. wow. god bless him. he must have been one tough guy

[Lara]

Indeed.