When Anger makes life difficult

  

Dear Bloggers,

 

Accidentally I met a new person a nearly sixty-year-old man from Turkey who is already here for more than forty years. He reasonably speaks the Dutch language. The biggest problem he has is a bit of a temper when it comes to officials who write letters to him. And yes his anger issue brought him into a lot of trouble. The problem is that we do not understand a lot of all these bureaucratic things. He fled in his younger years and going to school was difficult. 

Does anyone else out there have issues with their "friends" and professionals turning their backs on them and leaving them out in the cold while they are not getting treatment for PTSD? What would you do????

 

He told me that he had a great person who helped him manage all the paperwork and was there socially for him when suddenly the money from the county was stopped. So his guy was not paid anymore and stopped showing up. He has different people around to help him, but according to him they just are taking the money and not much is been done. Everyone who said they would support me through treatment has turned their backs on him and instead of being supportive they are "pushing his buttons" and not helping but adding to his stress.

What would you do??? I can't point it out to them cause it just starts an argument and they claim I'm using the "poor him card". My "best friend" won't even talk to some of them anymore. All I get is negative energy from them as he explains. “I feel more alone than I did before the treatments“. Which it is but as the rest of you know, you can't get through this without help and support from family and friends.

 

You have to do what you can live with. Nothing more, nothing less. If your professionals are adding to your stress and your illness then you need to, even temporarily, distance yourself while you heal. By the way, unless your friends have PTSD they will never 'get it'. They can't understand what's going on in your mind and your life. It's just one of those things in life that can't be changed. You have to find people who can and will support you (therapists, doctors, support groups) and not ask the same thing of your friends.

 

I just learned a very difficult lesson by having this person I thought of as my "best" friend quit talking to me with an outburst of anger and no explanation. I just made a phone call to his health insurance office and told me that they could not help him. I was flabbergasted by this answer and asked who should I call on this issue. This happened after I realized /remembered he was having an anger issue and they got him out of the building by police and he was not allowed to come back in. As he had verbally abused a person he had spoken to or most probably yelled at. He was not in the here-and-now reality - He was reacting as if I was still a hurt terrified young man. His best friend and helping hand had vanished. It's been over two or three years and it hurts him, but I guess that's the reason that he breaks and goes totally bananas when they put too much pressure on him. „I have to control my behavior somehow (or avoid people when I'm in that state) if I want people to stick around, even if it's incredibly difficult, “ he says to me. I tell him all the time you will get there when you ask people in a nice and friendly way. I share my life with my wife who has PTSD and is working hard on herself. I ran into this years ago myself after my army days and I kept it away from the rest but lately, I am going to therapy as well to get a better me out of it. Mine is a form of parts. I struggle with some anger and some strange feelings of failure. It’s not the end of the world for me, although I still struggle with putting myself in the spotlight when I rather go in camouflage and blend in with the rest.

 

Before you read what I have written please understand I am trying to offer a view from the other side of the fence. I do not wish to antagonize anyone with PTSD or invalidate their suffering. I intend to provide you with some thoughts that some of your friends may have thought. As a 'friend' of someone who has PTSD my thoughts are these - I agree that I can never understand PTSD but I can and have learned to have an appreciation for what it may be like.

Conversely, I think some PTSD sufferers forget how dramatic their reactions are sometimes and how frightening they can be sometimes to someone who has no idea of what they are dealing with. I have learned that I cannot apply logic or reason to try and understand a sufferer when they are very ill. To someone who has a history of abuse (but not PTSD etc), it can be quite daunting being lashed out at by someone who is supposed to be their friend.

 

What I think I need to say as a 'friend' is that a sufferer can help their friends understand them better by trying to meet them some of the way and work out what the friend relates to.

 

I like to read and learn so I went to the bookstore and gave me some literature to read. Some other friends may relate to the movie 'Reign Over Me' as they have trouble reading books and rather like watching TV. Of course, it goes without saying that the 'friend' has to be the type of person who is willing to make the effort and learn. I also found that as a 'friend,' I need to be really strong and definite with my boundaries so that while I may see a PTSD sufferer ill it does not become my punishment too.

 Living with someone who has PTSD has taught me (although sometimes difficult) that the issue may not be about me but I may bear the brunt of the pain/frustration/illness that they feel. Luckily for me, I have not had to deal with the full-blown form of PTSD and I can only empathise with those who suffer from it.

 Harsh as it may sound, friendship is a two-way street and sometimes it's just a case of meeting the right person. If I look back over my life so far my friends have changed as my circumstances did but then there are a few who have been there all the way and are still around.

 

I too have been through losing many friends over this. Many were because my wife isolated me from them, as she was not able to reconnect with people around her at that time. I have a few close friends. Many people seem to like me a lot and want to spend time with me, but few can connect with the world I live in.

 It has been hurting for a long time, every now and then it still stings a bit but it's just the way it is. I "feel out" people by slowly giving them tidbits about my life to see if I want to invest emotionally with them in a friendship. There are very few I can talk to about the real me. I am blessed by having those few. As a matter of fact, you remind me to call them today and tell them I love them. I didn't use to do that. Now that I really know how precious friendship, true friendship is, I tell them. I try to take long hard looks in the mirror to see if I'm being a good friend to them, and initiate conversation by asking them how I can be a better friend the times when I am able to look past my own hands.

 I have also looked closely at who adds to my life. I need to surround myself with love and support, not judgment. Life's hard enough, I don't need more added to my plate of battles. So, I've narrowed down my friends as well to those who aren't toxic to me but help me along my path and cherish the few I'm left with. This includes my family. I am now working on our relationship as a couple as I have been playing for too long the role of parent and caretaker, you may see a post from me later about that.

 

Hugs, I know this is hard stuff. And yes one thing you should learn straight away. You are beautiful exactly as you are. Cherish those who enrich your life and you will glow love, attracting others like you who can face life head-on to you.

 I heard this phrase once...People come into our lives for a season, a reason, or a lifetime.

 I think it is exacerbated by our PTSD but even people without PTSD have failed relationships......

 

The Old Sailor,

 

The Old Vase

Dear Bloggers,

Finally, after a time of moving and renovating (not yet completely finished), I find the peace of mind to start writing again and yes, I have neglected your readers for quite a long time. I therefore hope that you can pick up the thread again and I hope you have not missed me that much. I will try to write again on a more regular base. As you probably know, my love has a complex Post Traumatic Stress Disorder due to her work. She has been completely demolished mentally by two managers at the Royal Telecom Company. It is very sad to see that someone is being robbed of their independence and that those people just get away with it. Lawyers do not see much in a lawsuit and these big companies have so much power that it will be a waste of money to fight for about two years and come to a tipping point what we would call a settlement in the Netherlands. And then I am not even talking about the mental scars that will be ripped open again especially for my wife. No, I want to save her this pain. However, I will try to express what it feels like for us as a family.

Over the years, I have started to dig in deeper into the background of psychology and that a person can put a lot of situations into perspective. A requirement is that you dare to expose yourself and you're not afraid of the opinions of others. You must also be open to slow but certain developments and absolutely continue to believe in yourself and your partner. Together you can achieve a lot, if you are only there for each other.

“I first heard of a psychologist and later a colleague at work about having in-depth conversations. That colleague then benefited greatly from the talks. So I decided to go to therapy. At first only for my wife, but it made me increasingly angry. It was the unfairness of some jerk who thought that if someone did not leave, he would have to take care of it personally. What a nauseous game was played and nobody did a thing. I went with her to the conversations every time. When the therapy that my wife got was still not finished after two years, the discussions continued on and on, but there was not much added value for me. My wife was sliding into a deeper and darker inner person and more and more went to work alone with the therapist. After a huge crisis where she left home and hopped in the car in deep state of dissociation. As we did not know how this would end we called the police and they were looking out for her. Lucky enough she came to her senses and drove back home. The therapist was called and the therapist is now coming at home and therefore she did not have to come with me anymore. ”

“Initially I was rather skeptical about psychosocial in the beginning
support. "I really don't need that." In retrospect, it helped us a lot. We both received concrete and practical tips for our way of thinking. They were often very small and simple things. Of those things that I thought: why didn't I come up with this ideas myself? "

As an example, the therapist draws a vase, which during
the therapy would serve as a metaphor.

This requires some explanation, I think:
"In a" normal "situation, this vase is filled with a lot of energy.
But this vase of ours has a very ugly and deep crack, which drains the energy. This makes the leaves fall off. A solution had to be found here.

At one point she felt a little better again; and her energy was somewhat replenished. Bold that she was, she walked around thinking: "I am as good as new and I am feeling actually better" and went back to her old routines as she was used to. But the vase soon became empty again. That hole first had to be fixed. In the meantime I have learned to think differently and I now deal with it differently. We now distribute our energy better and in a different way. ”

“Occasionally, during the conversations with the psychiatrist and the therapist, it was rather deep in the past. The way of thinking becomes
also formed by what you have experienced. Where the hell does all this fear come from? What gives rise to those gloomy thoughts? Why do you sometimes see things that are not there at all? What are you doing? What do you think? One hundred questions and nothing really changed the lack of energy was every session the biggest problem. In the beginning, the conversations were quite heavy and in the beginning we had to stop often enough halfway. And despite the intensity, the conversation was often uplifting. After such a conversation, we always went on happy. Then we had the feeling: it is heavy but maybe it is not so bad. "

"When we were advised to do more with mindfulness, I thought," that is all too vague to me and really not for me ". But I tried and it helped. We have learned to put things and events into perspective more and more and it gave us both peace. Also in my job as a bus driver where I occasionally meet young people who have been marked for life by stupid harassment, like being bullied. I could put the world around me in perspective a little better. ”

The old porcelain vase that was always so dear to me because it was so beautiful and graceful, we still tried to put the pieces together and glue them together, but even if we did the job so precisely when you look closer you will still see the cracks and the energy is slowly but surely running out of the cracks. It will never be the same again. 

 

Now we have learned that the old vase can no longer be saved, it must be replaced by a beautiful new transparent thin glass vase. "The vase comes like in the good old days on the foreground just like before and it is our new vase," Although the new vase is more fragile than the old one and we have to be careful as it cannot contain as much energy as the old vase. Just let me explain that. The new vase is elegant, fragile and transparent, so you can see that it contains energy. Water gives energy to the flowers. The broken vase has been renewed. Now we have to try to save the withered flowers that have been damaged. We only can try?

The Old Sailor,

Trying hard to win the war within yourself

Dear Bloggers,

My wife is going through some traumatic times as she is emotional abused for almost three years in a row by two psychopathic and narcissistic persons (managers) that did everything to bring employees down that didn't fit into their profile. The company gives them a lot of freedom and it is a very sick atmosphere. A lot of former employees signed for their resignation and got a few months pay so they agreed to keep their mouth shut. My wife wasn't in the flow for leaving the company as she enjoyed what she was doing and this was against all the expectations of her manager. He was not amused with the fact that she was putting up so much resistance to keep her job. 

She kept up the fight for three years and dragged herself to work everyday. I pulled the plug in February of 2014 and she was tired and mentally so beaten up. In the last two years we have been trying to get her back on her feet with psychological help and psychiatric assistance. She has been checked on a medical scale by a neurologist and she was tested on defects by a neuro psychologist, lucky enough that there is no damage found in the brain. She is diagnosed with Complex PTSD with a panic and a anxiety disorder. Our wonderful future has been destroyed by two bastards that should be held responsible. 
 
Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, PTSD, is mostly associated with soldiers returning from war. After the horrors witnessed in such an unnatural setting, many wo/men have a difficult time returning to “normal” life, often suffering from flashbacks, panic attacks, and severe anxiety.

Contrary to popular misconceptions, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD) and Acute Stress Disorder (or Reaction) are not typical responses to prolonged abuse. They are the outcomes of sudden exposure to severe or extreme stressors (stressful events). Yet, some victims whose life or body have been directly and unequivocally threatened by an abuser react by developing these syndromes. PTSD is, therefore, typically associated with the aftermath of physical and sexual abuse in both children and adults.

Any traumatic event can trigger it. Rape, assault, acts of physical or verbal violence, even repeated emotional abuse or the sudden split of a significant relationship, especially if abuse was involved.

Repeated abuse has long lasting pernicious and traumatic effects such as panic attacks, hyper vigilance, sleep disturbances, flashbacks (intrusive memories), suicidal ideation, and psychosomatic symptoms. The victims experience shame, depression, anxiety, embarrassment, guilt, humiliation, abandonment, and an enhanced sense of vulnerability.

My wife is rather ashamed to admit that she has experienced them all. These last few weeks have made me realize just how deep the managers have traumatized me, she said. It was my husband who noticed, actually. He said that I was exhibiting symptoms of PTSD, and he was right. How embarrassing to be experiencing PTSD because of such a short-lived work-relationship. But all of a sudden there it is.

However, this reaction doesn’t reflect her or her ability to cope with it, as much as it speaks to the depth of the abuse. The depth of the trauma caused by emotional, cruel verbal, and even narcissistic pressure abuse, not to mention the sudden change in her personality and subsequent abandonment.

The first phase of PTSD involves incapacitating and overwhelming fear. The victim feels like she has been thrust into a nightmare or a horror movie. She is rendered helpless by her own terror. She keeps re-living the experiences through recurrent and intrusive visual and auditory hallucinations (“flashbacks”) or dreams. In some flashbacks, the victim completely lapses into a dissociative state and physically re-enacts the event while being thoroughly oblivious to her whereabouts.

In an attempt to suppress this constant playback and the attendant exaggerated startle response, the victim tries to avoid all stimuli associated, however indirectly, with the traumatic event. Many develop full-scale phobias (agoraphobia, claustrophobia, fear of heights, aversion to specific animals, objects, modes of transportation, neighbourhoods, buildings, occupations, weather, and so on). My wife has somethings the other way round for example she has no more fear of heights and isn't afraid of spiders anymore. Strange how the brain works

Her fear has been so great, that an email from him throws me into a panic attack, knowing that it just contains more pain. She doesn’t read them when they come in. In fact, she does not longer know if they are coming in or not, thanks to email filters that just delete them before we will even see them.
Thank goodness for technology.

Emotional abuse, like gaslighting as well as so many other insidious forms, is hard to recognize and even harder to prove. Let me first of all explain the gaslighting effect: “Gaslighting is an insidious form of emotional abuse and manipulation that is difficult to recognize and even harder to break free from. That’s because it plays into one of our worst fears – of being abandoned – and many of our deepest needs: to be understood, appreciated, and loved. The abuser is usually a very insecure person. He has a need to put others down in an attempt to make himself feel better. He must be seen as right at all times.” Often, the only indication that your partner is causing emotional damage is to trust yourself and how you feel.

• Are you asking yourself if you’re crazy?
• Are you questioning reality?
• Do you feel blamed for everything in the relationship?
• Do you feel unsafe to talk with your partner about anything? 
  
  
  
   
  

Certainly not all charming people are predators or abusive, but it is something of which to take note, especially if they are particularly charming. Please, please look closer, or perhaps, take a step back and look at the bigger picture. Find out about their past relationships. How many? How did they end? Do they take responsibility for their actions? Their words? Are they relatively consistent in their words/actions?
indication: They don’t take responsibility for their own actions.
Please believe me when I say that these actions are insidious. I mean it. They are so subtle and often covered up by grand gestures of love and excessive affection. It is very intoxicating and convincing, but beneath it all there might be a constant assault on your sense of self through gaslighting and other forms of covert abuse.

The first step is recognizing abuse as abuse. One very surprising thing I learned about this over the past few weeks is that some types of emotional abuse feel like love. Another reason the trauma is so deep: it’s not just the damage , but it is unhealed damage from a lifetime of emotional abuse.

Research PTSD and Emotional Abuse. If you are exhibiting any of the signs, you might be trapped in a betrayal or trauma bond with the abuser. This makes it even harder to get away and heal.

Let us all learn how to protect ourselves from such people, for in this society, there is no other recourse. No way to prove it. No way to make them accountable for the damage they cause. Our only hope of defense against this type of abuse is to recognize the danger early, reinforce our armor, and get away before a trauma bond can be created. Slowly we start with counseling. To me it’s an interesting one, and it might be helpful to you, reading this blog, as it shows how one is in so much denial at first because of the shock and disbelieve, and how, if you commit to healing, you can uncover some pretty horrific things and extensive PTSD.

My wife quotes: “I might never be working again and damaged for life. Still, I’d rather know, accept, and heal than to fall into the same trap with another predator”.
Let's hope the future brings better times.



The Old Sailor,

Bucket lists why should you wait?

Dear Bloggers,

This time I am writing about the need of bucket-lists and why do many people wait to do these challenges until they are in their last weeks of their lives. You should be doing these things as soon as you are able to fix the things that you want to do the most.

Bucket Lists are all the rage, 10 things to do before you are twenty, 15 books to read before you start university, 8 foods to try before you die. There are many items that crop up time and again, swim with dolphins, climb a mountain, write a book. But what if you spend more time compiling these lists than actually completing the challenges? And are you completing them because they really resonate with you, or because you want to take a selfie to commemorate?

One sure fine way to find out what the really important accomplishments in life are, is to ask the people who are coming to the end of theirs. That is exactly what keeps my mind going. Why is it all of a sudden so important to get these list completed. I wander if they have really lived life when everything was still normal, I can not imagine that you did not fulfill your dreams at least the ones that you can afford.

There is something so profound in the themes that came up in my mind and again. It highlights the importance of living each day fully. Strangely enough swimming with dolphins didn’t come up in my brain, although that’s not to say you should set this goal aside if it is important to you. This is what would pop up in my mind but okay I am not the average guy.

“I wish I’d had the courage to live a life true to myself, not the life others expected of me.”

This is what I think the most common regret of all. When people realize that their life is almost over and look back clearly on it, it is easy to see how many dreams have gone unfulfilled. Most people had not honoured even a half of their dreams and had to die knowing that it was due to choices they had made, or not made. Health brings a freedom very few realize, until they no longer have it.” When I was wearing a younger man's clothes I travelled a great part of the world and in a later stage of life I started sailing (to get rid of a traumatic impact on my life.)

“I wish I hadn’t worked so hard.”

This is something that many males with me would have on their minds. They missed their children’s youth and their partner’s companionship. Women also might have this regret, but as most of them only work part time as they take care of the kids as well, many of the females that I know are not being breadwinners. If you get sick you start realizing all kinds of things. And i personally regretted spending so much of their lives on the treadmill of a work existence.” I wouldn't have missed the years that I have sailed but somehow there are some pieces missing.

“I wish I’d had the courage to express my feelings.”

Many people suppress their feelings in order to keep peace with others. As a result, they settle for a mediocre existence and never became who they were truly capable of becoming. Many developed illnesses relating to the bitterness and resentment they carried as a result.” Bitterness is not the way to live your life. I keep somethings inside as I am a man but I am pretty open if it comes to issues. And I am speaking myself out.

“I wish I had stayed in touch with my friends.”

Often you won''t truly realize the full benefits of good old friends until you are in your dying weeks and it is not always possible to track them down at that moment. Many have become so caught up in their own lives that they had let golden friendships slip by over the years. There will be many deep regrets, I guess, about not giving friendships the time and effort that they deserve.

"I wish that I had let myself be happier.”

This is a surprisingly common one. Many do not realize until the end that happiness is a choice. They are stuck in old patterns and habits. The so-called ‘comfort’ of familiarity overflowed into their emotions, as well as their physical lives. Fear of change makes them pretending to others, and to their selves, that they are so content, when deep within, they are longing to laugh properly and have silliness in their life again.” It makes me happy that I do quite a lot of silly things.

What are your thoughts? Do you live life without regrets? What is on your bucket list? If you want to something bad enough, whether it’s starting a business or running a marathon or traveling abroad, you should try to get it done as early as possible in your life. You will have those memories and that experience within you for the rest of your life.

It’s never too late to tackle your bucket-list dreams, or to recognize that your list will grow the more you grow, and the more you learn about the world.

But, when you also give these dreams a sense of urgency and don’t put them off until "the stars are aligned," you’ll be amazed at how much life you can fit into your years.

The Old Sailor,

The scars on my soul are telling a story

Dear Bloggers,

I'm having trouble working out where I am and who I am. Somehow, this isn't disturbing, it's simply puzzling to me. I'm in a puzzle and need to put together the clues to work out what this is all about.

Images are popping up in my mind and somehow the pictures are mixed up and there are people who have never been there before and that makes it complicated. I'm sitting in the centre of a row of beige plastic chairs. When I turn my head, I realise that my wife,is sitting next to me. A ring of beige chairs also lines the walls. Other people, scattered around the room, are sitting here with worried faces some of them are crying or looking down and shuffling their feet. I get the feeling that they don't want to be here.

A beeping sound is coming from somewhere. To my right, people are moving through an automatic door. I look up and see a young woman behind a glass window. She seems to be mentally losing it, as they just confirmed that her boyfriend has died in the chaos that is out there, and her dark hair hasn't been brushed recently. She's on the phone and taking notes. All of a sudden a few people show up to me and I realize that I can not see there faces and I frown when they approach me, as I don't really want to speak to them. I am not the one that should give them answers, I send them over to the other side of the room and I see them sitting down with the policeman who has a copy of the passenger list and they are being desperate for good news.

We seem to be in some sort of waiting room, but I don't know why. I am wearing my military camouflage uniform sitting with my helmet in my hands. We are sitting in a sports hall which has been decorated as a waiting area with here and there a few tables where policemen are trying to give as good and as bad information . For most of the survivors the waiting is hell.

The sunlight is slanting through the windows on the far wall is soft; it must be the morning light, then. My dear God we have been here for hours and still they are bringing people in. Local cops, people from the Red Cross and other persons like psychotherapists, priests,ministers. The major is running the operation. And our duty has been taken over by the own countries army and we are waiting to get the clearance that we can go back to our base

In one corner of the room, on a low table, there are piles of magazines. I walk over to pick up a crying girl and then sit down with her again. This is a young woman I guess in her late teens or early twenties approximately my own age but she has lost everyone that she was with. My heart breaks when I see her and send my buddy to find someone to comfort her. As for us it's about time to leave.

Off to my left, a child is whining. I turn to see a man and a woman, both big, with a girl aged four or five. They look tired, as parents do when they've been up during the night with a grumpy and worn out child. Soon I am absorbed by their interactions; it's like watching a show. The father lifts the girl on to his lap, looking strained. The mother holds up a children's book, reading to her. The child listens for a while, fidgets, and cries again. The mother tries to interest her in one of the toys from a box in the corner, but it doesn't work. Now I know what this is like; I'm a parent, too. They're doing their best in this bad situation.

How did I get to this room? A fragment comes into my mind, a dreamlike image of driving us to the chaotic scene and me being impressed by the sea hawk helicopters that are flying on and off. It is what I can see from our military vehicle window. Did this really happen, or am I imagining it?

I turn to my wife and see that she's crying quietly: her cheeks are pink; the rims of her eyes are red. She's sad about something, but I don't know what. I put my arm around her shoulder and pat her gently. "It'll be all right," I say. She quiets a little. All the other things are in some kind of blurred image. And I wander what her problem is, somehow I cannot reach her. It is a disturbing feeling and I feel powerless. How in the hell can I help her when I am in this state of mind.

As we sit there, I feel as if I'm in a sound bubble, into which the surrounding noises don't intrude. The crying girl doesn't irritate me as I think she might have at another time. Instead, I feel a well of stillness inside. I keep turning the pages of this story of my life. Get up soldier it is time to stand up to your troubled mind and help the one you love with all your heart. The road will be long and tough sometimes inhospitable sometimes, but she is not afraid as she has a well-trained soldier at her side. But there is no way back and it looks like our horizon on fire as the sun goes down slowly.

As far as I can tell, it's not long before we are taken through a door. It opens, like magic, into a wide, yellow corridor with a side table, a high metal chair, and shelves along the walls. Have we really been here? Did we do anything good for those people? And why am I mixed up with all those emotions. And why am I dressed in full combat gear with a loaded machine gun? I left the army in the autumn of 1987 that is more then 25 years ago.

A young military man who says he is a doctor asks us to sit in the chairs while he stands before us. He's wearing ordinary clothes and looks tired, speaking slowly and softly. He probably wants to go home. The doctor would like to thank us for the quick responding to the scene. And gives our sergeant a phone number for the ones who might need help. At the moment we do not need anything but want to go home. We are all trained to kill people but in this case this were civilians who just had a good time and were killed in a weird kind of disaster. In this case we could not save them. Man this has impacted our team the guys have gone quiet as we have seen all to much.The guys are all silent and some are staring with bowed head to the floor. the situation we ended up in was totally insane. And no one had the strength to say anything. It was quiet and lonely it felt like a slap in the face.

Memories lost: I don't know how long I'm with the doctor perhaps one or two minutes and when I look up he's gone. There's that puzzling feeling again: was he real, or am I in a dream?

Back in the corridor, a man and a woman tell me I am to have a EMDR session. The thought excites me. I don't think I've ever had one before, but I know what they are: I've read reports from EMDR patients as psychology fascinates me because the brain is something very special, detailing the effects of a brain that is able to send people in the right or wrong directions. They have a lounge chair and mentally they push me into another corridor of my mind. In and out of the disaster we go. It is sad and reliving it is absolute no fun.

They say the session is over, but I don't remember having it. How odd! I'm walking with a woman, also dressed in blue; she's told me that I'm having the next session next Thursday. I'm not sure if I've been in state like this before, but I'm so tired that I think it would be great to get my life back and being able to sleep without nightmares again.

The next morning is different from the day before. It feels as if I've woken from a dream. I'm sure now that I've been there and that woman next to me in my memory is not my wife but my late buddy who died of cancer a few years later in hospital, and that something really has happened to me. I remember more clearly the whole situation was so crazy before we came in. I'd woken with a headache, walked to the kitchen, taken a Panadol, and gone back to bed. That's the last memory I have on this weird mixed up dream.

The phone beside my bed rings, interrupting my reverie. It's traffic control if I could work today. “And I respond yes of course what time should I start?”

"I'm woolly in the head, as if I'm not sure I'm really here," I reply to my wife. "I've got a mild headache, too." and still you are going to work she says. I call it therapy as my brain has to work in a different way. I jump out of bed and head for the bathroom. Brushing my teeth, shave and hop into the shower.

It's three months after my initial psychologists admission, and two months after I was formally discharged from therapy again, where I spent eight unsettling and confining sessions. It's mid-afternoon and I'm reading a book. It's easy to follow, and it doesn't matter if I've forgotten some of the earlier details. I like the way of writing, and I am fascinated by the story: I'm not the only one on a path of survival. Initially I tried reading a story of a deeply harmed woman that has survived a war, but it was like struggling through thick, deep mud.

I would read a page, and by the time I reached the next, I'd forgotten what the previous one had said. I go back to reading, settling comfortably into my chair; the idea of seeing the doctor slips into my back pocket. But my brain continues processing this information in its own way.

Then, a thought comes suddenly to my mind: if I've had a set back, and that's not physical… I haven't had a mental breakdown. It all came up again due to a very different situation. They harmed my wife and the killing machine was woken up from the dead end corner of my brain. I was going to take this bad ass out of his magic life. And everyone that would be in the way. The bastard has been lucky that he wasn't home as I had figured out were he was living. I couldn't stop the blindness and the deep angered soldier that was taken over. Lucky part of the situation was that he was not home as I still see him as the enemy. Thank God I did not harm anyone. Relief floods through me. Fucking fantastic.

Recovery: All of this happened on the evening hours of the 6^th of March 1987 But cue seven months of visits to doctors psychotherapists and a series of tests. I've been told that I should exercise, walk on flat ground if I go for a walk, read nothing harder than the newspaper. I try to follow doctor's orders to take it easy and avoid stress. The stress thing is a process of discovery. The invisible hole in my head is a trickster; I don't know when or how it's going to trip me up next. My body's not behaving properly either. And that came up years later due to a stressed life.

I'm anxious to get on with my recovery, and the more I read, the more it seems like a computer-based cognitive training program is what I need. The program should concentrate on building the basic auditory skills first, and then the components of speech and finally comprehension.

Now the situation has stabilized and I am calm again, yet I must give closure to the old situation and learn to live with what happened then. Furthermore, I will have to build on a completely new start for my wife because she never will be the same again and will have to learn to live with her post-traumatic stress disorder. Will I ever find the peace and able to deal with the false world that simply seeks to amass money and is not looking for happiness.

It is the time that heals all wounds, but there is always a scar on my soul and that scar will fade with aging. Sometimes it will itch and sometimes it will be hurting and feel like stabbing but it will never disappear. It's something you learn to live with and gradually no one is sensing that you have a scar. "In peacetime you are much more affected by the war." said an old veteran a couple of weeks ago.

 

The Old Sailor,