A veterans way to cope

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Living with personal dragons in your daily life by Russ from PTSD Support Services

At the present time, I have a Veteran's Administration Service Connected disability rating of 100% based on PTSD. The primary trauma accrued within a 48-hour period while on active duty in Vietnam. During this time I, along with my unit, was bombed by our own B-52's. Ending up walking next to an unexploded 750-pound bomb. Then walking into an ambush that took most of the lives within my unit and watching while rescue helicopters were being shot down trying to remove me and other wounded from the battle zone where I had received combat wounds.

My family background is traditional and is based on an extended family that included a great deal of interaction between grandparents, uncles/aunts and their children. Family get-togethers and family picnics during the summer stand out in my mind the most. Although my father died when I was only 9 years old, the "Father Role" was filled by one of my uncles.

Since leaving the Army, I have found life difficult and trying for me. Many times over the last 30 years and even more often in recent times, I have felt that ending my life would be best solution for me. After losing my teaching job at a college I returned to the travel industry where I have been employed for most of my adult life. But only after a short time (3 months) I lost this job because of an angry outburst on my part. I have looked back on my life and feel that I have accomplished little in my life, my depression has taken its toll, and I'm very tired because of this depression.

Through therapy I am learning to recognize many of my PTSD problems (Dragons) that I was not aware of before starting. These symptoms, listed at the bottom of this report, have been so much a part of my life that I did not recognize them as being out of the ordinary. Since November 1996 I have emotionally continued on a downward spiral fighting this ingrained PTSD.

I will emphasize my deficiencies in the areas of work, family relations, and lack of anger management, plus other areas. I am unable to accept authority in the workplace, which is very stressful to me and I get feelings that it’s necessary for me to change jobs because of the lack of satisfaction where/when I have worked.

Even though I’ve had many personal relationships, lasting several months, I still feel that I am isolated from people and the communities that I have live in. I feel that every time that someone has tried to be a friend, I push them away so that they don't learn of my past or for fear of losing them later as it happened so many times during my tours of duty in Vietnam.

I do not socialize well nor do I like to interact with most other people around me. For most of my life I have lived within a closed world. I have only one true friend, who is also a Vietnam vet, and I do not allow people to get close to me. This way I do not expose myself to inquiry about the war or the part that I played in it.

For the last 30 years I have not lived a normal happy life.

I have repeatedly moved around the country looking for the “right” place to live, never being happy in any one place for longer than two years. I’ve been married three times. I’ve had 20 plus live-in girlfriends plus hundreds of short-term/one night relationships. It seems that anytime a woman tries to be close to me emotionally I push them away and I look for someone else. I try to find contentment, satisfaction and happiness with women but all it turns into is sexual gratification and escapism for me. I have found that I do not allow anyone near me on a personal/emotional level and still do not allow it today. These relationships, for the most part, have been for sexual gratification or emotional numbing only.

I am always looking for a better life, the right woman to be my wife, a better job, or place to live. I have, for many years, believed that I won’t live past the age of 62. It’s my belief that I will not retire like normal people do.

I am a person, who would rather be out in the middle of nowhere than being forced into socializing with most, if not all people. This has caused additional problems in my relationships and I do not see any future change.

Within this 30-year time frame I have had and lost many jobs, quitting most of them, and I have never been successful in the business world. I feel that I have had many good ideas but have never followed through with them to completion. The fear of success can be overwhelming.

I am an “Emotional Stuffer” in the true sense of the word. I do not convey my feelings nor do I express my feelings to anyone very well. I have a difficult time being open with people and not wishing to hurt other people’s feelings I seldom express myself openly. During several times of great stress or anger, I have lived in isolation away from everyone, preferring to live in the mountains. I am much more comfortable living in small towns and even more so in a rural setting like a farm or ranch with no neighbors close by to my family or me.

Anger is the main controlling force in my life and I use it as a tool to protect myself from harm, which has accrued or may accrue in my life since Vietnam. This perceived danger can happen even in my life today and has been reflected in daily events as simple as yelling a people for blocking an aisle at a store while I'm trying to pass by.

I must admit that I do spend time confused as to the date, place or time that I'm in. Finding it necessary to relay on others for appointments, I'm usually at least a day or two off but its not uncommon for me to be at least a year off when trying to remember events in my life. While teaching, it was necessary for my secretary to keep track of events I needed to go to since I would forget where I was supposed to be.

I find it difficult to adjust to changing events or circumstances around me but especially in the business world. I either have quit or have been fired from many (30) jobs since 1967 when I returned from Vietnam. I have found that the stress of working and making business decisions or the responsibilities related to work is very frustrating for me. Its common for me to have anxiety attacks at work, worrying about if I'm doing the job correctly and if so will I remember to continue that way. It is not uncommon for me to start a new job, find it enjoyable, work hard and learn about the position I'm in, than become bored in a very short time. I have even received promotions and than become so concerned about my performance that I quit and move to a new location just so people would not have to trust me.

I have been in combat situations over six times. Since going into the Denver PTSD program even more events and their related flashbacks have been added to my memory as each recollections happen. Each flashback event presents me with their own images and many are now on a daily basis. Most flashbacks are vivid when they occur. With people dying, trees blowing apart and my fears and terror. Some are seen as in-complete events and I'm not seeing all that had happened nor with other people in them. Others visions are only images viewed through a small window of the fight. Many nights I find it hard to go to sleep, stay asleep or I wake up with cold sweat nightmares that I do not remember.

I have to live with anger and irritability on a daily basis. I am now dealing with frustrations over my “missed” life, a life that I’ve craved for and will never have now because of my age. I am bitter with the government and the Veterans Administration for the lack of insight into PTSD and the effects that it has had on my life as well as others that experienced Vietnam and the reactions of people upon my return from service there. When PTSD became a recognized disorder, 1981 (?), I personally feel that not enough effort was made to evaluate Vietnam Veterans for PTSD.

I do have a BA degree in geography. The major difficulty is that it is very non-specific in subject content and has not provided me with useful tools for outside employment after graduation. But now I feel so discouraged and depressed in life I will not go any further in my education. This is based on my lack of concentration, retention of material, memory problems, plus personal concern in my ability to study and learn.

During my time in Vietnam I got into the habit of going to sleep on my left side. The reasoning for this is to get my heart as close to the ground as possible. We had the feeling that during an attack the first rounds from the VC would be high so I wanted to protect myself as best I could. That is one habit that has carried over to today and I still make every effort to go to sleep on my left side.

I wake up in the middle of the night on many occasions with unknown sweat dreams. This is an ongoing problem that I have had for many, many years. I jerk awake in the middle of the night soaking wet, or at the very least, wet around the neck and shoulders. I have caused bruises to several girlfriends and wives waking up this way.

One of the most vivid dreams and recurring dreams deals with my exposure to leeches after being hit and lying in a rice paddy for a night. When I woke up I had many, many leaches on me. I spent almost an hour looking for leeches then burning them off of me with cigarettes.

First, Flashbacks: I experience them. They can occur for no reason and without warning, coming from out of nowhere, or during times of stress. Secondly, Sounds: Sometime with a backfire, helicopter fly-byes, hail bouncing on a roof, close hitting lightning or distant thunder will produce a flashback. I return to Vietnam and my experiences come back to me. Thirdly, Smells have an effect on me: There are several smells that can cause an event but the most forceful smells are: Diesel fumes from truck exhaust or the smell of vomit.

I deal with anxiety attacks that can be rather forceful at times. They develop at any time and can last up to several days. Many others of these attacks are short in length and can be produced by the following: Diesel fuel smell, stress, anger at a news story that I feel there were injustices being done to someone. Grief or sadness for someone that has had a loss of a loved one or by watching a happy ending movie will have an effect on me. Sometime even bringing tears to my eye or a full outright crying session.

I will usually have an anxiety attack after bouts of anger. I wonder what the outcome of this anger will be in my personal life or business life. They have occurred in both, which has led to breakups of relationships, marriages and loss of employment.

I have a very difficult time controlling my anger. Recent events illustrate this, in August 1997, during a presentation to a travel group I lost my temper because the group could not make a decision on a departure date. This cost me another job and increased my negative outlook about myself in general and about my life as well. My self-esteem is pretty low at this time.

I wish to list here is my aversion of being in any crowd or people in general. I do not do not do not like, nor enjoy crowds of people. This includes movie theaters, cafeterias with long lines, long lines of any kind, sporting events, or malls. A simple example of this is that I did not go to any of my school graduations while in college. It seems that I’m always on guard!

Because of thoughts about Vietnam and my past, I have difficulty falling and staying asleep. I have remorse over what I’ve missed because of my PTSD. Even though the knowledge of the effects have come to light only over the last two years, I realize that it is something that I’ve had since discharge from the service! I experience a great deal of irritability and outbursts of anger over this fact!

Most of the PTSD events listed above recur after I have experienced some form of stressful situation or I have become angry over something that has occurred that day. At other times, I can experience them with no forewarning at all. I seem to have no control over these things when they happen anyway. I have had little success in getting my anger, frustrations, short temper, nor my disappointments with life under control.

10 Ways to Recognize Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder

After a loss, it is normal to go through a natural grieving process. Sometimes, however, after a tragedy, such as a sudden traumatic event, feelings of loss surface several weeks or months after the tragedy occurred. This is called post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD). Recognizing these symptoms in yourself or others is the first step toward recovery and finding appropriate treatment.
1) Re-experiencing the event through vivid memories or flash backs
2) Feeling “emotionally numb”
3) Feeling overwhelmed by what would normally be considered everyday situations and diminished interest in performing normal tasks or pursuing usual interests
4) Crying uncontrollably
5) Isolating oneself from family and friends and avoiding social situations
6) Relying increasingly on alcohol or drugs to get through the day
7) Feeling extremely moody, irritable, angry, suspicious or frightened
8) Having difficulty falling or staying asleep, sleeping too much and experiencing nightmares
9) Feeling guilty about surviving the event or being unable to solve the problem, change the event or prevent the disaster
10) Feeling fears and sense of doom about the future

Russ also says” My PTSD is combat induced, while a rape/incest/abused person would have different trauma reactions. For your information, traffic accidents are now the greatest producer of PTSD in the USA today.”

PTSD. My story

Personal Post Traumatic Stress Disorder Stories




Airborne One

I.
Oh Lord, what am I doing here? This place is such a dump. Although I must say it was very kind of that relative stranger to give me the key to his hunting shack, so that I could get out of the public eye. My nerves are completely shot. All this shaking makes me feel like a Parkinson's patient. This place smells of mold and piss. The floors are rotten and the mattress feels like a dirty hot dog bun. What a dump, I feel so alone. God, I want to go home, but I am afraid he will try to kill me again if I do. Please damn the doctors for mixing his medication; they have stolen the man I have known away from me. His brown eyes are gray now and his skin is speckled with white spots. His face looks like someone else's. God, please keep my daughter safe, I cannot look at her right now. As a matter of fact I think I might just lay here and die. God, I am unable to write. Will you please tell my family I love them? I know nobody will understand. But my heart cannot beat anymore tonight.
My veins began to feel like ice on this hot summer day, as I fell deeper into shock. I really meant it; I couldn't take anymore of the crazy traumatic events. My life had become a shamble since my husband's arm went though that meat grinder. Surgeries, doctors visits, more meds, insurance companies, bills, mental illness and suicide seem to have become more frequent than not. Ironically, I lay here wanting to die because I saved my love from his own hand, only for him to try to kill me for getting in his way. He was the only person in my life that I have ever trusted, and he put a large butcher knife to my throat and he meant it. I bashed his head in to escape.

Oh God, I sobbed; I can't believe I busted his head open. I want to be dead. The revolver I found in the drawer was becoming my new lover. I caressed it gently. My life had become a shamble, a joke, an absolute joke. I no longer felt any hope. The blood gushing from his head, replayed again and again as if it were right in front of me. My body was unable to walk or hold down liquids. I have lost so much weight that I look like an Ethiopian. I have gone to the E.R., four churches and called a hotline. What a joke. Nobody really gives a shit. They are all in their fields to stroke their own egos, not help someone like me. I can't even look at myself. When I try, I see eyes that are vacant. There is nobody home.
Settling in to do the dirty deed, I realized I was not alone. A shape, a shape of a man with ears that stuck out just a little, stood there. He had a firm jaw line and a small but muscular build. He wore a white tee shirt, blue jeans and had a lit cigarette.
"Really…great I truly have lost my mind, now I see a smoking ghost, okay fine, I had better do this before I get committed." Strangely though my veins suddenly became very warm, and I felt a profound indescribable love and well being.
"Are you an angel?"
The man found that statement overly amusing. Laughingly he replied, " No doll I'm no angel. I am just your guardian."
He sat down beside me, and the warmth became more intense. As he came closer I saw his eyes were blue. He reached over and touched my hair in a matter of fact way.
"Such a pretty, pretty little girl is all the paramedics are going to say as they shake there heads and haul you away. They will all wish they could have saved you and then go to bed thinking what a damn shame."
He went on speaking, "You cannot die tonight. The others on the other side will view ending your life in poor taste. They will label you a coward and they are not at all kind to cowards. Besides, if you are not afraid of dying, you should not be afraid of living. What is the worst that could happen? Maybe die?" He then chuckled at his own funny.
"At least if you die in battle you could say you at least had the balls to try. Besides I believe you have a mission to complete. Even if that mission takes your life, you must complete it."
"Who are you?" I blurted almost in a panic.
"Robert Freeman, Lt. Freeman, other wise known as Airborne one."
"Why are you here?"
"I'm stuck, why are you here?"
"I have no where to go and what do you mean your stuck?"
"Well apparently when I died on September 7, 1943 in that attack over Italy I wasn't ready to go. It was a huge explosion. There were pieces flying everywhere, but I couldn't find Mary." He paused and looked sadly at me.
"You look just like her, she was a hell of a pilot. I was in love and I couldn't leave because I had to find here. So now I am stuck, co-peach compadre?"
"I'm sorry, how old were you?"
"Twenty eight."
"Did you ever find her?"
"No apparently she crossed before she hit the water. She always was smarter than me." He flicked his cigarette in an agitated manner.
"Why can't you cross?"
Mockingly he chuckle and lit up another cigarette, "because I'm no angel."
"You on the other hand, have to do what it is you have to do. First, you have to believe in me. I will help you. Me and my boys."
"Your boys?"
"Honey there are more dead soldiers roaming the earth than you could ever conceive. We help our own kind. You are a leader; we will be your army. You're a tough little girl. I saw the brut strength you have. Why do you collapse? He fucked up, but he is not well and you know it. You know what the doctors have put him through; you cannot abandon him or your daughter. Go rescue him, rescue your one true love or neither of you shall ever find peace."
"The counselors and reverends say I should leave him. They say he will try to kill me again if I go home."
"Don't fear death doll. We will protect you; nobody can harm you. Now get up and eat, shower and get some sleep. You look like shit girlie."
Strangely, my body was no longer shaking and my legs worked long enough to rinse off in the shower, but I found no food. At four a.m. I dozed off.

II.
My eyes fluttered open to the sounds of cows grazing not far from the house. The sun was shining brilliantly in a crystal clear sky. I sat up and wiggled my toes. "Sheesh eleven o'clock. I can't remember the last time I slept until eleven. Okay I guess the first thing I need to do is clean up around here, and then go and buy me some clothes, shoes and makeup." I had been run out barefoot with just my purse and keys.
"Don't forget the beer!"
As I spun around there stood another soldier.
"Who are you?"
"Danielle McKeinzie."
He was a bit of a round soft man with a baby face, blue eyes, a very short crew cut and a gentle grin.
"Oh and cigarettes, but none of those light ones, those things are like smoking air."
Stupidly, I stood there in disbelief. Okay fine I have lost my mind. Beer and cigarettes. Anything else?
"No nothing else. Yeah, Robert told us your were a little freaked out, it's okay, we love you anyway. Hey, don't you remember us? Or don't you remember the attack in the freight yard in Italy?
"Excuse me?" was all I could manage.
"Yeah you know when I got shot in the belly, I begged you to go on without me and tell my mother I loved her. But no, not you. You drug me all along those tracks and tried to patch me up. I remember my head kept getting banged on the tracks and you kept saying oh, I'm sorry, please don't die, don't fucken die on me! I was really touched by the sincerity of your tears, I remember wanting to reach up and kiss you. Is that wrong?"
Dazed I realized he expected a reply of some kind, "Is what wrong?"
"That I wanted to kiss my best friends fiancé?"
"Under the circumstances, I guess one would be forgiven."
"So you really have no memory of it?"
"No, no, no I…I don't, not at all."

I edged out the door and got into the car, this week was getting really weird. I went and dressed my self properly, although the looks I received going into the shoe store barefoot was a bit amusing. Thank God for credit cars, but I think the store clerk really thought I had stolen it. I brought back a carry out hamburger plate from Applebee's and a few groceries. I ate and slept for the next five days to rebuild my strength. The conversations were endless.

I also got to know Scotty, a small man with sandy hair, brown eyes and freckles across his nose. He had been a cook and had the sweetest disposition; he tended to be easy going. Then there was Vern. Vern was a trip. He was a large man with thick unruly dark hair and just one large eyebrow and dark framed glasses. Vern rarely smiled and seemed tense. He was the troubleshooter, the mechanic. He was somewhat an idiot on the matter of emotions but he was extremely intelligent in the laws of science. Then there was Richard who had been a bomb technician. He was a rebel. He was too tall, to thin but possessed a devilish grin. Richard was fearless and energetic, with dark hair and crooked teeth. He could pry from me a grin every time I saw his pale gray eyes light up at his own warped sense of humor. They were a good crew full of humor, and in their presence was an infinite love. Words cannot possibly do this feeling justice, but I would compare it to the feeling of holding your own baby for the first time, there just really is not anything else like it.

III.
I did return home as a warrior. Many of those I had known swore they no longer knew me; they said that I was different. I could not tell them why. That was in 1996. I had become fearless with my boys at my back. They had my back. Many more came to call. Often they would just rattle on and on about everyday things and most seemed totally amused by new technology. Robert sat on my bed at night and rubbed my hair. Every time he touched me I felt warmth flow through my veins.

It was with their help I saw my husband make a full recovery and I was able to provide a stable home for my daughter. It was not an easy endeavor, it was a war, a battle that required not stepping on the land minds and making things happen that might ultimately led to peace. I often did not think I would live, but I seemed to be okay with that. My boys always talked me through the tough moments. They gave me information, warned of danger, and reminded me I was protected. They humored me, pushed me to do more for myself and it seemed I had become indestructible. They brought to my life a profound faith in God and the element of hope. I often had seizures and felt rage that made me beat my head out of frustration. But my boys were there every time to pick me up, they said they understood the pain, they always told me that they cared. They loved me and tended to me when I became ill.

PTSD became the diagnoses in 2000 following a trip to my hometown for a funeral. As I tried to integrate back into society I also tried to rationalize that my soldiers were not real. I mean society just could not accept my experience; instead they would look at me as if I had three heads, so I felt it should be done away with. I sent them away telling them I had to do this alone. I was grateful to them but felt it was time to regain what is considered a normal life. The more rational I became the more depressed and lonely I became. When I severed my ties with my boys at the bidding of society, in order to find acceptance, I lost my faith and my hope; life felt empty and barren. Then I found they were still there, I had just chosen not to see them.

Society in general seems to believe that insanity is always bad, a thing to be cured. I think maybe it is not insanity, as much as maybe there is more out there than a rational mind can possibly understand. Why is that insane? Why should that be cured?

I will always love my boys; to me they are as real as anything anyone can touch. They are as real as God. They serve God. I cannot have faith in one and not the other. I owe them my life. To be so called cured would be to not believe in anything.

PTSD. Do not treat yourself.

While many patients attempt to alleviate the symptoms on their own without professional help, the nature of anxiety compounds and worsens their anxiety as these efforts increase. Seeking professionally guided and clear-minded help for an irrational and anxious mind frame is necessary for a large numbers of individuals suffering silently from anxiety. There is help available for you and many others. All you need to do is to seek the help of a professional psychiatrist to improve your life today.

With the help of a psychiatrist, treating any degree of anxiety is possible and effectively done over time. The first step in starting this process is seeking the help of a psychiatrist. There are a number of treatments and therapies available for these types of disorders. Some of these include medication, talk therapy, group therapy, introspective reading and worksheets, journaling, and meditations.

In most cases, a structured and professionally guided combination of these items is necessary to achieve desired results. In fact, with the proper treatment, most people can expect to live productive and fulfilling lives. If you wish for an anxiety-free lifestyle, seeking and pursuing the help of a psychiatrist is necessary.

If you feel you are suffering from an anxiety related disorder, a qualified psychiatrist can help provide diagnosis and begin a treatment plan best suited for you and your lifestyle. Debating seeking treatment will only worsen anxiety symptoms and draw sufferers away from the potential solutions a psychiatrist can offer. Treatments that can be explored include a number of traditional or alternative therapies, medication, self-help, or a combination of methods. Only a professional psychiatrist can accurately or can ethically decide which treatment is best for each individual patient.

PTSD and the veteran

The number of veterans dealing with these issues is staggering. A 2008 study found that one in five vets returning from Iraq and Afghanistan experience symptoms of PTSD or major depression. Sadly the study also found that many of these service members do not seek treatment for psychological illnesses because they fear it will harm their careers. Untreated, PTSD and depression can lead to cascading problems, such as drug use, marital problems, unemployment and even suicide.

Veterans don't have to "go it alone" — our colleagues in Veterans Affairs (VA) have marshaled resources to help service members and their families. The VA Web site has information and resources about coping with PTSD. There's also a hotline veterans can call for help with PTSD: 1-800-273-8255 (Spanish/Español: 1-888-628-9454).

The message is clear: We need to take care of ourselves and seek help when we need it. The resources are out there. This is true for veterans and for anyone else suffering with PTSD or depression.

Please let me hear from each of you what you find to be the most powerful tactics for coping during times of turmoil.

PTSD: when it at it's wors't.

Post traumatic stress syndrome it is at it's worse when the sub-conscious mind is at it's peak. There are countless books that try to explain what it is and how to best cope with the mother of all illnesses. I would rather have a doctor tell me that I am suffering from cancer. I know, it sounds crazy, but that is just what PTSD is. A doctor can tell a patient how he had gotten cancer. The risk factors, blah blah blah. Treatment for PTSD has come along way in the past 20 to 30 years. Unlike with PTSD. It is misdiagnosed than any other disease. Men, who join the Army, Marines,and Special Forces do not realize the harmful impact the diagnosis of PTSD reeks havoc of everything the sufferer touches. The Military Commanders are as much to blame as the patient himself. So LET US TAKE A LOOK at what is exactly Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. We will start at the most severe headed to the least severe.
1.) This is my list. A disabling anxiety that might develop following exposure to one or more likely events. Trauma is one or more likely events. A trauma is an that causes intense fear during which the individual may feel like they(or someone very close to them) are about to experience serious harm)or are about to die. These manifest into sleep disturbance, recurrent dreams, usually in the form of nightmares. PTSD is a psychological condition that affects those who have experienced a traumatizing or life-threatening event such as combat, natural disasters, serious accidents, or, violent personal assaults.
PTSD has gained recognition in recent years because of its emergence in many Vietnam veterans. Victims or this disorder tend to re-live over and over very painful or stressful situations and often have nightmares about the event. We, in the media have termed these events 'flashbacks'. It is important to note that PTSD is a psychological condition that affects those who have experience traumatizing or life-threatenings with no way of dealing with the hellish event they had just witnessed.
I am suffering this very same condition. In the next few weeks we will delve into what makes one person take his service revolver, or automatic, and end the pain once and for all. What makes people choose another route? Stick around, theblogmeister

College Football: a cure for PTSD

It has finally come. Training camps for college football. With all the off-field issues that have been going on I wonder if it will become a distraction. There is one place that a distraction is not needed: The Defending National Champs, Alabama. What was Marcell Darius thinking. "Wow, I got me free plane tickets to South Beach to attend a Party, drinks are free. Hell. yea! What the frick was you thinking. I realize I should not jump the gun and convict him of wrong-doing. Hopefully, he went to the party that was put on by that San Francisco player who claimed to pay all of the tab. Don't hold your breath Alabama fans, though.The NCAA is laying the hammer down in light of the USC debacle. (It couldn't have happened to a nicer son- of a b*tch). Lane Kiffin is a piece of sh*t, and I am not even a Vols Fan.What is wrong with me? Must be getting old. The good news out of Ohio is that Trey DePreist signed with the Tide. Hey, we are back! So, all you Bama haters keep on keeping on. We will see you the 3rd Saturday in October. Thank God, and 'Bear' For another season of college football. It will be a great one. theblogmeister

Rantings

I hate when the media doesn't get their way they whine about it. A bunch of bitchy little girls. They are now to stay away(65ft.) from any oil workers, oil, booms. They want to concentrate on the negative. "We are not the enemy" they said today. Yet all I hear is the massive amount of oil that is gushing in the gulf. We know there is a big fucking gusher out there and some morons with microphones telling us to the milliliter how much it is, how terrible it will be for decades. We ain't stupid! We don't need to hear how bad everything is all the time. Yet, the media is hurt that they can't climb up your nose to get a story. How many of you guys are out there? Thad Allen don't need to be bumping into Anderson Cooper and having to explain why they did what they did. I bet the COL. trips over a dozen of CNN crews on his way to get coffee. "What is the total of the dangerous dispersant that you are using? Don't you know that stuff could kill all the plankton on earth?" Give them a break, for Christ sake. Just think about what they are going through. I am not defending BP. They suck! I am defending the shrimper who has to skim oil to feed their family.I am defending the hotel owners who have to rent to BP. So. Anderson, if you are reading this, find a story to do and stop dwelling on the Apocalypse. theblogmeister

PTSD "I have figured out what it means!"

PTSD does not stand for post traumatic stress disorder. It stands for Perpetually Tired of State Departments. The state department I am referring to would be the Veterans Administration. I am absolutely tired of explaining my case to a bunch of bureaucrats sitting in an air-conditioned office. I must give them the benefit of the doubt having quadruple(or more) claims to process because of the wars we have been fighting the last eight years. So, you have some sympathy. My beef with those case workers are; I have given them all the help they need. As a matter of fact, I have done their work for them. There is not one thing they have to look up, research, or question. I have quoted case law pertaining to my claim. I have sent them copies of those case laws, copies of decisions made by the Social Security Administration. Everything they need to decide my claim. I'll give you the low down of what is going on. I was given 20% service-connected disability for a back problem I received while on active duty. I was given Social Security Disability for spinal stenosis, after 4 back surgeries, I might add. The service-connected disability was for spinal stenosis, also. I then filed an increased compensation due to individual unemployability. My back is screwed up. I can not work. I also cannot live off social security. It makes it a little harder when my ex-wife receives half my disability check. I do not have a problem with that, it is for back child support and I should pay it. Here is where we come to my legal help, at no charge, with the VA. I found 38U.S.C 4.16(b) where it states that if a Veteran cannot find gainful employment due to a service-connected disability then that veteran is deemed totally disabled. I sent them a copy of that, also, a copy of the decision of the Administrative Law Judge's decision stating why I was disabled. It's for the same thing. Instead of getting $243/mo the law says I should get $2870/mo. from the VA. Hey, the longer they wait, the more in back pay they will owe. It still frustrates the hell out of me. If anyone out there needs free legal help email me. I would rather see you get it than those lawyers. Later, theblogmeister

Fighting the Government

Has anyone actually won when they have a claim against Uncle Sam? I have been battling Sam for over two years on a claim for disability benefits from the veterans admin. I have found case law that states if a veteran cannot find gainful employment due to a service-connected disability then the veteran is deemed totally disabled. That comes from the United States Supreme Court. I have a 20% rated disability and that same disability keeps me from working at all. According to the highest court in the land I should be rated 100%. Can I get the VA to understand that? You would not believe what hoops they have me jumping through. It is amazing. Uncle Sam is a tough old bastard, I'll say that for sure. I have no doubt I will win my case, I just don't know when. In the mean time, I will keep sending emails to my congressman and calling him on the phone until .....What a coincidence. I just received a phone call from my congressman's office saying they will call and put a congressional interest on my case. Will it work? I will let you know. In the mean time I will keep bugging the shit out of them until they will want to get rid of me.

Where have I been?

I often ask that question. Where have I been? See. Where I have been is spending too much time on that dad-gum facebook. Who does that remind you of, Dad-gummit? Yep, Coach Bobby Bowden. I will never forget when he thought that field-goal attempt was good. Do you remember? The one that would have given FSU the national championship? He was the only one in the stadium that thought it was good. When he realized it was wide right he looked around like he was saying, "I know that was good, dad-gummit." It was wide right. There was a stretch of 10 seasons that Florida State averaged 10 wins a season. Talk about domination! I don't know what happened after that. I guess the parole board stopped giving paroles, dad-gummit. Coach Bowden used dad-gummit an awful lot, after that. Wins were getting harder to come by. He started losing to teams that he had never heard of. If that wasn't bad enough he started hearing a guy by the name of Jimbo Fischer. Ole Jimbo's name started getting more attention, dad-gummit. Coach Bowden was Florida State for over 30 years. All of a sudden it's time for Jimbo to take over. DAD-GUMMIT!! I hope the AD at FSU gave Coach Bowden a sky-box to use for life. That is the least he could do for the best college football coach since Bear Bryant, dad-gummit.

Tolerance

I used to think the word tolerance only meant that you had to do more drugs. In my age of infinite wisdom I have come to truly understand tolerance. Age has its way of mellowing out even the fastest of the fast life. Is it our body defining limits that it does not know? Maybe its our brains computing those limits that we do not feel. I am a relative young man. This means that I have a cousin younger than me. No, in terms of age, I am fifty. In my mind I feel no difference than, say, forty. I do, however, feel the difference physiologically. Assigning a number is a better way to go when it relates to age. It is raw, yet simple. Time will cover far more years than one number. I will give you an example. "Do you remember the time I crashed my car?" versus "Do you remember when I was sixteen and I crashed my car?" Huge difference. Many or one. Time is more complex than a specified date. You will hear more statements relative to a specific era from me than time, alone. It is simpler and less convoluted. My six pounds of grey matter does not process information like it used to and my chiseled beer gut on my 196lb. frame is not the efficient body of my youth. I have learned to tolerate myself. later, theblogmeister

LOST

I feel like I am a tiger that has lost its stripes. An elephant without a trunk. A bee that can't find its hive. Salt without pepper. A warm beer. Although, a warm beer to some would be appealing. Not me, though. Nope. There was a time not that long ago, I would enter a post quite regularly. I had even started writing a novel. A novel idea, to me. I had gotten up to speed. Par for the course. Cruising. Letting words flow. Like warm butter. Smooth as silk. Like water off a ducks back. A breeze. Then something dramatic happened to me. I met this slick bastard. Oil slick. He could sell ice to an Eskimo. No offense, Nanook. As the saying goes, the rest is... I can't remember. You get my drift. Does this all sound cliche'? I don't, either. Fresh as a new fallen snow. Clear as a bell. Where was I? Oh yea, drama. My new found freedom to write plum escaped me. I was healed. My writings originated from my Id. Well, maybe it was my nightmares. That's the ticket. My hypnotherapist got around to quelling my phobias. Done a real good job, too. Sleep like a baby. Forgot how to write. I guess I'll ask him for a refund. I need to be sleepless in Seattle. You know what I'm saying. I gotta get back to where I once belonged. Get back, JoJo. I will be a'callin. You know who you are. theblogmeister

am i a writer?

I used to be a waiter, now, i am trying my hand at writing. I have no formal training. Shit just pops in my head. Good or bad. I put it down. It will probably get me in trouble. Who cares? Do you care if I get in trouble? Hell, no. I have started writing a novel. I would post it, here, but I am afraid some asshole will steal it thinking it makes sense and they just may make a dollar off it. I like it. I love to read and have read a lot books and if I read my book not knowing that I wrote it I would enjoy it. Is that possible? I am gonna finish my book and try to peddle it to the publishers. See what happens. That's about all I got, today. Not even a burn. theblogmeister

confusion

Break that word up. Con, Fusion. We all know what a con is. It is a lie, plain and simple. It is used to get what you want from others without them knowing your true intentions. Fusion, to come together. Does this sound like an oxymoron to you? It is not. It makes perfect sense. When you put them together there is no sense to be understood. To be confused is to be without facts that make sense. The reason I bring this up is I am confused. Yet, I have the facts and they make sense. What confuses me is others interpretation of those same facts and come up with an unreasonable conclusion. No matter how I try to make the others understand the simplicity of my situation they want to disregard the facts and draw their own conclusions for their benefit. All this is confusing me. Should I treat them like morons or keep trying to make them understand the facts as I see them? It gets frustrating when you deal with a powerful government agency that seem to have an agenda. I'll not give up because I believe that the truth will win out. This isn't the law, where truth and Justice is not the same. The law is about one thing, winning. It is that simple. I'll give you an example. When I was in prison the only place that had air conditioning was the law library. In order to stay there you had to have a case number, proving you were working on a case. So, I decided to file a 1983 form against the officers that questioned me and slapped me around a bit. Filing a lawsuit is easy. You fill out the form, file an informa pauperous application, stating I did not have the $150 dollar filing fee send it to the proper court. In my case it was a 4th and 8th amendment violation so it had to be filed in Federal court in the northern district. Well, I enjoyed that air conditioning so much I started reading a lot of case law. Shephardizing, finding cases similar to mine and reading what the court ruled. The city of Gadsden had a team of lawyers and paralegals to do their work and they flooded me with motions galore. The court has a huge book called the federal rules of civil procedure and you have to follow that to the letter. I spent 3 years working on that case enjoying the air conditioning and the study of the law. Once it made it past the summary judgement stage I knew I had them. The SJ stage kicks out frivolous suits and the ones that make it go to trial. To make a long story short, I had my day in court and the jury ruled in my favor and gave me $10,000 punitive damages. The only witnesses were cops. I had the truth on my side. I didn't have to try and remember what I had said at depositions and those cops got on the stand and lied through their teeth. They committed a felony trying to save their ass. The jury saw right through them, thus the verdict in my favor. It sure made my time go by a lot faster and cooler! So, no confusion. Stick to the truth, it won't let you down. theblogmeister

VA granted me 20% but denied Individual Unemployability

I found out that 20% won't pay my medical, or gas money. I will be quitting the VA until I pay them for over $3,000 medical. They will take it out of my check. I have it on appeal but that will be months. By then, I'll have the 3 grand paid off. The only good thing is I will get the $ refunded. The bad thing is I will have to stop my therapy sessions that have been working and I have enjoyed, very much. I just hope and pray that the Demon does not return and haunt my dreams, again. I will keep in touch and let you know. theblogmeister

Shit Happens

I was in the middle of a post and suddenly my screen blinks , comes back, this time without my text that I have already written. I got jipped out of 3/4 page of text. I need to call the hall monitor to let him know about what JUST HAPPENED SO HE COULD (I ain't going back to change when I accidentally hit the caps lock button.) Would you? I didn't think so. Tell somebody.
The title of my blog was DNA . As you know, I write down the title first and a story around it. A strange way to write, I'll admit, but somewhat effective, by the responses I get.
Who ever heard of DNA before the OJ trials? A Mr. Barry Scheck, one of OJ's 29 lawyers, first introduced me to those 3 letters. I found them fascinating to the point of confusing. I imagine those jurors felt the same way, hence the not guilty verdict. Now, the airwaves are saturated with those letters. CSI tells you a lot about DNA. NCIS knows quite a bit about them, too. Where does one send a DNA sample? The FBI, of course. The odds of this person raping and killing this girl are one in 26 zillion. According to the DNA. Those are some powerful letters. Recently I have heard that there have been convicts on death row have there sentences vacated because of, you got it, DNA. I am more confused about it , now, than ever before. They need to simplify. YRG and YRI. You are guilty and you are innocent. That's my burn, I'm outta here theblogmeister

The Lost Goose

When I write a post I have absolutely no idea of what I am going to write.
I start with a title, then go from there. It hasn't always been that way. I would write about a dream, nightmare would be a better word, about the night before. It seems that I would sub-consciously have a nightmare just so I would have something to write the next day. I have now changed writing styles until I find one that works. How will I know what works? How does a lone goose make it to the Canadian wilderness? He probably hopes to run into another flock so he can fall into the V. Geese fly in a V formation for aerodynamic reasons. The wind eases on by. He keeps looking for some more geese. A lone goose would be better than nothing. Although, half a V would look stupid. He sees a pond, glides in to check it out. Nothing. No other geese, that is. What to do? I'm a dumb ass. I would have left when those others did but I thought they were dumb-asses for leaving early. I do this shit every year. I need to quit cussing, too.Shit, who's listening, anyway. I need to get my dumb ass up north before all the babes are taken. He flies up to catch the jet stream so he won't have to flap his wings as much. He may have some sense, after all. He's got a groove going, now. Then he hears a little voice. He can't believe what he's hearing! He can recognize that chirp from a thousand others. It's that dumb ass hummingbird that caught a ride with him last year. I tried my best to shake him last year. Flying upside down, in a spiral. When we stopped to take a piss I tip-toed away before I took off. Those little shits are fast at take-off. I couldn't lose him. I had to spend the whole way listening to his bull-shit. I swore I would check to make sure he wasn't hiding on me before I took off to head up north. Man, it's gonna be a long trip. I hope he knows the way! My burn for the day? The rule that says when hummingbirds migrate they catch rides on the backs of geese. I think it is a stupid rule and us geese should go on strike and make them little bastards fly commercial. I'm otta here! theblogmeister

Financial Tsunami. Who Was The Quake"

Well, it has taken us a year to reach the 10,000 mark on Wall Street since Lehman Brothers failed and the U.S. saved AIG and many others from going belly up. I say we had to have that mass infusion of cash to keep the financial system from imploding and I applaud Obama for acting to save our financial system. I should applaud Timothy Geithner for being so smart.Well, Obama did appoint him for Treasury, smart move. Have you ever listened to this guy? He's a freaking genius. I know I say fucking too much but the heck with it. If I was half as smart as he was I'd be a hell of a lot smarter than I am, right now. I never answered my question, Who Was The Quake? My answer: Hell if I know.
Have you ever watched a show on ESPN called Jim Rome Is Burning? A real good show, I must say. At the end of his show he has a segment called The Last Burn. So, I am going to steal a part of his show and call it the blogs last burn. Is that OK? I don't care, anyway. Well, I do, but I don't. I don't care about stealing part of the show, I do care about you, the reader. That was a line of shit. At least I'm honest.
Here is my last burn. The U.S. dollar is at an all time low. One year ago, we spent billions to keep these big wall street firms from failing but we couldn't save our auto industry. The money we spent on wall street we could've used to save all of our jobs in Detroit., We would not have lost a single brand. Hell, my Grandfather drove a Buick. My grand kids will never know what a Buick is. The heck with wall street. They are still getting record bonuses while Americans clean out their desks. Sometimes I want to go off my meds and pay those assholes a visit. That's my burn. I'm outta here. theblogmeister

The Difference Between The Dark and The Light

I have been writing in the dark for the past year. Yesterday, I tried to write in the light. I have to admit it was very awkward. The writings in the dark were full of pain, fear and anguish. The words just flowed so freely. I had become so accustomed to the dark words it was like someone else was writing them. Now, I believe that someone else was writing those words. It was almost like another personality took hold. That other "self " had me and was keeping me in my torment. I can't take credit of the change in my writing style. It was that slick bastard that taught an individual about hypnosis. I will not call names. You know who you are. As far as stories from the light side, I promise I will keep them coming. My mind is a bit preoccupied, right now. My wife is in the hospital dealing with a blood clot in her lung. Just as soon as she gets home and is feeling better I will burn this keyboard up with the light. No more dark, I hope. Thanks to all for reading my posts and I will be sure to entertain you. Thank You and God Bless You All!! theblogmeister

God's Own Drunk

I promised my brother-in-law that I would watch his still while he went into town to vote. It was right up on the mountain where the map said it would be. God's little moon was shining through the clear summer evening and the stars were twinkling on and off in the heavens and I want to say up front that I ain't no drinking man but temptation got the best of me and I took a slash. WHEW ! Let me tell you, this weren't no ordinary still! That yeller whiskey was a runnin' down my throat like honey dew vine water.Like I said once before I ain't no drinkin' man but after tasting that stuff I was convinced. I was God's Own Drunk. And a fearless man. So, I took another slash. Then, I took another, and another and before you knowed it I downed 8 of 'em and commenced to do the bear dance. It were alot like the jitterbug but plum evaded me. Well, that's when I first saw the bear. He wuz a kodiac-lookin' feller bout 19 feet tall. He rambled up over the hill and expected me to do 1 of 2 things, flip or fly. Didn't do either one and that hung him up. He looked me in my eyes and mine wuz a lot redder than his wuz, that hung him up. He wuz sniffin' around trying to smell fear but he ain't gonna smell no fear cuz I'm God's Own Drunk and a fearless man. That hung him up! Well, I approaced him and he took 2 steps backards, didn't know what to think. Being charitable and cautious I approached him, again. I said I know you got a lot of friends on the other side of that hill. There's ole rare bear, tall bear, smelley the bear, smokey the bear, pokey the bear and I want you to go back over the other side of that hill and you tell them I'm feelin' right, that I love each and every one of them like a brother or a sister, but, if they give me any trouble tonite, I'm gonna run ever damn one of 'em off this hill! So, I want you to be my buddy. Buddy Bear. I took ole Buddy Bear by his island-sized paw and led him over to the still. He wuz sniffin' around that thing cuz he smelled somethin' good. He took one of them jugs of honey-dew vine water and downed it right fast and he started snorten, fartin', rippin' up my tent, carryin' on by the likes I never seen before. WHEW! Well, we worked ourselves into a tumultuous uproar and I was awful tired. Layed down, went to sleep, and dreamt me some tremelous dreams. When I woke up, there wuz God's little moon shinin' on the clear summer evenin', God's little lanterns wuz a twinklin' on and off in the heavens and my Buddy Bear wuz a missin'. You know somethin' else friends and heighbors. So wuz that still!
I thought I'd step off in the light for a change. I hope you enjoyed it. theblogmeister