I have tried to remind you, my readers, that hope is always there. Always present, and not far from the pain you are feeling. But... Half the time I am trying to convince myself. Life has a funny way of testing us, of pushing us.
Recently my car was broken into and ALL of my work equipment was stolen. Not too funny, right? I mean that is a terrible set up and delivery of a joke. The "funny" way life tests us, isn't in the events, but in the type of events. In the way we react to them, that is where funny is transmuted into peculiar, the strange, and even odd.
Now in my car, I had tools, wires, gauges, connectors, power tools, even a 300$ juicer that didn't belong to me. They left all of that. They took my emergency cash fund out of the glove box, and my work equipment, and my medication. I work in IT, and an IT guy without a laptop isn't much of an IT guy.
In one night, my safety net, my career, and my medication were all stolen from me.
No my safety net was about 30-40$, not a whole lot of money. But it represented a cushion, in case something happened. Something did happen, I was without my cushion.
My career, will go on, I called work they sent out a replacement, but I lost all my work. Life goes on, just a mild irritant.
My medication, now that is a slippery slope. I realized yesterday that it had been almost a week since I took it. That is getting close to it no longer being in my system, and I have noticed it. I am saying mean things, things I do not mean.
So in one night, fears of being without a safety net, adding in growing irritation, and my anger over nothing all came back. I was asked if I am doing ok, I am maintaining as usual. I am partially dead inside, so that helps keep everything from seeping out. But I feel it a boiling. The truth is I am a powder keg ready to blow, ready to destroy ones own self, and everything around me.
I don't feel violated by this robbery, I don't think like that. My SO was freaked out by it more than I was. I feel like maybe...
Like maybe the medication isn't helping like they say it is. Like maybe life is meant to be hard and disappointing. Like maybe there isn't light at the end of the road. Maybe there isn't a road at all. Maybe there is no such thing as light, and we created it in our minds to have something to hold on to. Maybe I am just fanning the flames of my own destruction with the blankets I keep throwing on the fire of my own raging insanity.
I started writing because I was unable to talk about PTSD, now I do my best to write about the hope we need in the dark times. I try to show people that just because life is always spitting on you, just because your fears and pain keep you chained there will ALWAYS be a better tomorrow, just around the corner.
But as usual, since I was a child, I feel disconnected from the world. Now I have PTSD, I have hope, and I have a raging storm inside, and no way to scream for help. I have demons whispering vile, disgusting, horrendous things in my ear, and I love them all. I have nightmares that fuel my passions. Hope has become a name plate I wear as I check into work. Hope is the pair of glasses I put on each morning, to filter out all of the bad.
Through my hope goggles life seems pretty sweet. Luckily they weren't stolen. But then again maybe if they had, the person who needed them the most would have them.
Recently my car was broken into and ALL of my work equipment was stolen. Not too funny, right? I mean that is a terrible set up and delivery of a joke. The "funny" way life tests us, isn't in the events, but in the type of events. In the way we react to them, that is where funny is transmuted into peculiar, the strange, and even odd.
Now in my car, I had tools, wires, gauges, connectors, power tools, even a 300$ juicer that didn't belong to me. They left all of that. They took my emergency cash fund out of the glove box, and my work equipment, and my medication. I work in IT, and an IT guy without a laptop isn't much of an IT guy.
In one night, my safety net, my career, and my medication were all stolen from me.
No my safety net was about 30-40$, not a whole lot of money. But it represented a cushion, in case something happened. Something did happen, I was without my cushion.
My career, will go on, I called work they sent out a replacement, but I lost all my work. Life goes on, just a mild irritant.
My medication, now that is a slippery slope. I realized yesterday that it had been almost a week since I took it. That is getting close to it no longer being in my system, and I have noticed it. I am saying mean things, things I do not mean.
So in one night, fears of being without a safety net, adding in growing irritation, and my anger over nothing all came back. I was asked if I am doing ok, I am maintaining as usual. I am partially dead inside, so that helps keep everything from seeping out. But I feel it a boiling. The truth is I am a powder keg ready to blow, ready to destroy ones own self, and everything around me.
I don't feel violated by this robbery, I don't think like that. My SO was freaked out by it more than I was. I feel like maybe...
Like maybe the medication isn't helping like they say it is. Like maybe life is meant to be hard and disappointing. Like maybe there isn't light at the end of the road. Maybe there isn't a road at all. Maybe there is no such thing as light, and we created it in our minds to have something to hold on to. Maybe I am just fanning the flames of my own destruction with the blankets I keep throwing on the fire of my own raging insanity.
I started writing because I was unable to talk about PTSD, now I do my best to write about the hope we need in the dark times. I try to show people that just because life is always spitting on you, just because your fears and pain keep you chained there will ALWAYS be a better tomorrow, just around the corner.
But as usual, since I was a child, I feel disconnected from the world. Now I have PTSD, I have hope, and I have a raging storm inside, and no way to scream for help. I have demons whispering vile, disgusting, horrendous things in my ear, and I love them all. I have nightmares that fuel my passions. Hope has become a name plate I wear as I check into work. Hope is the pair of glasses I put on each morning, to filter out all of the bad.
Through my hope goggles life seems pretty sweet. Luckily they weren't stolen. But then again maybe if they had, the person who needed them the most would have them.
The truth is, sometimes life sucks. But don't let the demons suck the life out of you. I can only imagine how difficult these times are for you. Just keep reminding yourself that people care, that you're worth the effort. May tomorrow be better.
ReplyDeleteTomorrow always comes, and with it, a new day full of possibilities. Thank you, as always for the kind words, and support.
DeleteElijah, now I want to ask you why you felt disconnected from the world as a child, and whether you think there is any link with the 'adult' ptsd. Might deserve its own post?
ReplyDeleteKeep an eye out for tomorrows post :)
DeleteI will do - you're brave :)
ReplyDelete