Rock and a Hard Place

I should be credited with the terming of that phrase. I, by no means, am saying that I have the exclusive rights to the term. Truthfully, there is many that could claim it. Seriously though, I wonder who thought the cliche' up? By using 5 words he summed up a dire situation. I don't think you could say it any better with fewer words. I am between a rock and a hard place. Would you surmise that life was going good? There is a whole slew of phrases that could say the same. By the way, slew is a southern word meaning a lot.In this form I don't think it is a verb. I did not slew the dragon. See what I mean? You have one, then a couple, a few, some, then you have a slew. Now, back to my day. I have had a slew of bad days. Between a rock and a hard place. It gets old, let me tell you. During my most recent trip to my therapist I was hypnotized. No slew, here. It was my first time. Did it work? I first have to define my goal to ascertain whether being hypnotized was a success. It was to relax. Did I relax? Yes. Maybe I can build up to having some control of my dreams. That is my ultimate goal. Conscious sleep. That sounds like an oxymoron. An oxymoron on oxycodone. Sounds a little crazy to me. Hell, that's why I am seeing a therapist. I am crazy. Is conscious sleep even possible? If it is anything like levitation I guess I should change my goal. I can't kick the Col. ass because he is dead. I would have better luck levitating. Between a rock and a hard place. theblogmeister

The Demon Doctor

Last week I had an appointment with my psychologist who is helping me to deal with my Demons from the past. It is only the second or third visit with this particular professional, so, I have not reached that trusting rapport that I believe is essential to successful treatment of my PTSD. I had had a very bad day due to the pain associated with my third back surgery and was not in any way able to make that appointment. It has gnawed at me for missing the appointment because I want to establish that trust to benefit from his expertise. This is the second time I have missed an appointment and I hope the therapist will not hold it against me for my lack of holding up to my end of the bargain. I really need help after all these years. My Demon is (was) a retired fighter pilot in the U.S. Air Force and has been relentless in His pursuit to totally control my life from the other side. Does this sound crazy? Yes. Am I crazy? Probably. He was, for almost 30 years able to make my life hell on earth. How is this possible? The Colonel was able to control my sub-conscious mind. Was it really the Col. doing it? No. It may as well have, though. I had no control. My terror took place during my sleep where my sub-conscious mind was the Big Dog. For almost 30 years I tried and found the best working solution to my problem. Which, by the way, created even worse problems. I found that narcotic drugs would quiet my Demon. The price of the utopia cost me well over half of those 30 years spent in the Alabama prison system. I have 2 sons and was in prison when both were born. They grew up without a daddy, basically. I can also attest that prison is no fun place to be. Why couldn't I control my dreams ( nightmares of unimaginable proportions ) to the point of sanity? I was insane. I was terrified of sleep. I was unable to have any relationship with anyone except for the dope man. We had a good relationship. I believe in God , so, why didn't God help me. The Lord knows I prayed for his guidance. How could a dead man cause my life to spiral totally out of control? I need to retell the story. For my benefit. And soon! thanks, theblogmeister

Who am I trying to kid?

What a joke! This whole online money making scam. Yea, I was sucked into it. Be a millionaire by using my copy and paste reproductive, 100% guaranteed, or triple your money back to my offshore account in the Cayman Islands. There are a bunch of snakes out there. Yea, you know who you are. I don't, you better thank God for that. If I could get my hands on you my but would be sitting back at Limestone Correctional Center, sitting in the law library selling motions and rule 32's. A writ of Habeus Corpus here and there. Passing the time, no, rotting away for better terms. Some times I think I would trade all that for one thing. Peace. Contentment. Does anybody out there understand at all? See, that is the problem. It is like sitting at lunch with someone speaking Russian and I am talking back. Taking turns talking. Not knowing what the hell is being said just talking. Then you find out later that this bastard is trying to kill you. And it never stops. It can't be stopped. You know it's coming and there isn't a damn thing you can do about it. Just wait. Peace. That is a beautiful word.

I have to get rid of the demon by keeping my mind busy.

It is hard to keep the demons away when I am constantly reminded of what brought along them in the first place. I see a therapist regularly and blog about my nightmares hoping I can get a grasp on what is causing so much fear and anguish. I am not able to be around people and carry on a normal life. That all ended on Nov. 13, 1978. I have made some progress, though. There was a time, not very long ago, that I could not even talk about Him. My father is letting me live in one of his houses until I am granted my claim for service-connected disability. You want to know what sux? No matter where I live or how much money I have I still will have the nightmares that control my life. I will still dread to go to sleep. Darkness will still be my enemy. The money I may get will help me and my wife tremendously. We won't have to rely on family and get them caught up in this nightmare. I want them to live their own lives theblogmeister

Poetry

I have decided to put my feelings in poetry. I hope you tell your friends to check out my new format. Thanks to those avid readers and I hope you will invite your family and friends. Thank You, theblogmeister

Pain in the brain

I have no cancer inside my head
just a fear of going to bed
I havea demon much worse than cancer
the medical proffession has no answer

They have a word called PTSD
but all it is just words to me
the horror I go through when sleep does come
I only wish the doctors could see

The meds they give me don't help at all
I still feel the terror when night does fall
many times I jolt up in bed
only to see the living dead

The Col. has been dead 30 years
yet, he still gives me terror in the night
and yes after all this time I still get the tears
Can I go on? I feel drained and don't thinf I can fight

theblogmeister

The Angel of Death

The angel is with me
she has a mission
to take me with her
her own admission

She is relentless
she says she will succeed
she is convincing
she is believed

I have known her
For many years
I have prayed
and shed many tears

She will not quit til the job is done
or until I have won

Memorial Day

Memorial day means a lot to people who want to thank those in the Military for going above and beyond what is asked of them. It also is a time for remembering those that have served and died to protect our freedom. Admirable. To me it is a time of reflection of great pain. Not because I was wounded in battle. I was wounded. However, it was during peace time. Our world was not at war, but I was at war with the demons that I created while stationed at Eglin AFB, Florida. Those demons are still with me. Haunting me in my dreams. For many years I battled with the Demon and the only ammunition I had was drugs. I found that the only way to defeat the Demon was to abuse narcotics. I learned to self-medicate myself to ward off the Demon. The abuse of the narcotics robbed me of a life. I have to say if not for the drugs I would have surely committed suicide. For over 25 years I found the drugs were the only thing that worked. The Demon came to me in my sleep. It was pure terror. I had no other way to combat the Demon. It came with a heavy cost. I lost my wife, a relationship with my kids, alienation from those who cared. I pushed them all away. I am not going to repeat why this all began. You can look back and read older post and find the name of the demon and the circumstances surrounding it. I just wanted to say that my Memorial day is unique and brings back terrifying memories. It's not over. I wish it was. God help me. theblogmeister

Apologies And Prayer

I want to apologize to those that suggested I write a book. It is important for me to keep this journal and to try to hang on to my sanity. In reality, I use a lot of humor as a defense mechanism so I don't have to talk about the seriousness of my sickness. Some of the stories in this journal sound like a screenplay for a horror flick but every word written is true. My nightmares are getting much worse. It happens when I go for long stretches without writing about my experiences in this journal. My fear is that one day, no matter how many times I post, the nightmares will worsen. Then what will I do? I can't medicate myself into stupor. Soon, the pills won't work, anymore. My psychiatrist has already doubled my mertazapine, the meds I take for the PTSD. I was given an appointment at the VA clinic for next tues.(In Gadsden). My psych doc wants to keep seeing me in B'ham every 90 days. I hope I find another vet that is suffering from PTSD here in Gadsden and won't be afraid to talk. I really don't know how much longer I can hold on. Stress makes all my symptoms worsen. My ex-wife is getting half my disability check and I just found out that she is getting my $250.00 recovery check that I was really depending on. It doesn't matter that she and her husband both make real good money and my wife has fibromyalgia and has not worked since Dec. '06 and was denied her ss disability. I have filed for service-connected disability and individual unemployability. If I am denied that we will be homeless. Say a prayer. thanks, theblogmeister

Am I Crazy?

Hell, yes. If you have read my postings you would come to the same conclusion. How long have I been crazy? Since Nov.,18,1980. That is the day I killed a dear friend of mine. He was a USAF Full Bird Colonel, Ret. Nowadays it is called euthanasia. In 1980 it was called murder. Some states still consider it murder. Doctors are able to get away with it with the family's permission.Pull the plug, DNR, it comes in many forms. In 1980, I was a 19 y.o. medic that was convinced by a terminal cancer patient by the name of Renold DeBarge,Col.,Ret. to end his suffering. I did. That is where mine began. For the next 29 years He has tortured me in my dreams. He is not letting up,either.I became a drug addict because narcotics was the only thing I found that would quiet my demon.That is exactly what He is,my Demon.He comes to me at night when I have no control of my conscious mind.He is relentless.He can't be stopped.There is one way.Destroy where He resides.I am almost at the breaking point. I do not know how much I can take. theblogmeister

Stephen King I am not

Someone sent me an email and suggested that I start writing horror books. Do you think that I am making this shit up? Don't you realize that I am one sick fuck. To suggest that I make a game out of this all is beyond callous. It borderlines on criminal. How would you, sir, feel if I actually blew my brains out? Make sure you get it on video, right? The only fucking reason I write at all is to keep from eating lead. I don't care if anyone reads my blog. Then I find out this moron wants to read the shit in a book. Yea, I am pissed. I guess I shouldn't. I am writing on a public forum with who knows how many readers. I will keep on. Not for you,sir, for me. Thanks, I think, theblogmeister

Suicide is painless

It brings on many changes and I could take it or leave it if I please.I am , once again, staring into the emotional abyss. The place that solves all problems.Answers don't matter. Therefore, no questions. No dull, monotonous drummings of life. Don't have to listen to my heartbeat thumping in between my ears. I called it an abyss, however, I think it may be a black hole this time. There is more of an energy than I remember. It is hard to look away from the dark. No, there is no light escaping this. I wonder how it would feel to take a step off the edge and into the unknown. Truthfully, that is my barricade keeping me from punching my last ticket. Fear of the unknown. It is not like someone telling you the end of a horror film. This is going to a place that you would be hard pressed to find anyone with the slimmest idea of what lurks around the next corner. If there is a corner. Very intimidating. If it were easy everyone would do it. "My wife cheated on me." Click, BOOM!I am just talking shit. As much hell that I have put myself through. The nightmares, the self medicating, all pales in comparison to the pain of death, of my existence being over. No, I am a coward. Sometimes I wish that I had the courage to end all this. Is that courageous? Who sets the standards of wellness, anyway? What is the control group and who decides that which we measure as esteem?I wanted to get lead poisoning when I started this letter. Now, I have talked myself out of it. Courageous or cowardly. Ask the guy in the lab coat holding the lab rat. Maybe later theblogmeister

PAIN

What is pain to you? Physical? Psychological? Emotional? If you are lucky you may experience pain in a way that is easily dealt with. Got a splinter? Dig it out. Cut yourself shaving? Antibiotic ointment. Bump your head? A little bit of ice. Can you imagine a pain that is so intense that it rules your life? You try to sleep but to no avail. The torment continues even while you finally get some sleep. You wake up and pain is the first sense that hits you. All consuming. The little things that bring joy to most is hell to me.PTSD. Pain That Surpasses all thought of happiness. The last time I was completely without pain of any type was November 11, 1978. At that time I had the world at my fingertips. I had hopes of becoming a medical doctor able to heal the sick. Able to give others hope.Confident, to a point, that I would full fill the dream I had of being a doctor. Less than 24 hours my life was ruined. There was no taking back what I had done. I remember that exact moment when life went from hopeful to hopeless. I have asked myself thousands of times," Why?" I had no idea the impact of that one decision. I had grappled with that decision for weeks before I acted on it. It only took 2 or 3 minutes and the results were catastrophic.I had created a demon I could not control. It was November 12, 1978. The demon has haunted me, laughed at me, made me question my sanity. It has no name. Over 30 years later the demon still haunts me. Mostly in my sleep. I have seen countless doctors since I revealed this demon. I have been on many different meds to tame Him. Sometimes I think the only way to rid Him is to rid His host. I am angry for letting others put me in a position to give Him life. One person could have saved me from living in fear of Him but she chose the easy way out not caring that my life would be ruined. I will see Him, again. Tonight. I know that terror awaits. That, my friend, is PAIN. theblogmeister

I Don't know where I'm gonna Go When The Volcano Blows

Mr. Utley. Those were the days. Before the Col. entered my life. Sun, fun, Coronas, and Jimmy Buffett. With a baby doll in my lap sitting by the fire. Back then the Air Force owned the beach from Wayside Park all the way to the Destin bridge. I have not been to Ft. Walton since but I here that that particular area is high rise condos on both sides of highway 98. So sad. I often reflect on where I would be if I had never killed the Col. I have a good idea. My best friend,back then,and I wanted the same thing out of life. Now, Henry has a successful practice in medicine. Yep, those 2 letters behind his name,M.D. I, too, was as gifted in medicine as he. I miss the interaction I had with my patients. I was the best at starting I.V.'s and setting up traction equipment. Today, traction is almost extinct. We have external fixators, now. Cool. That one decision to give a patient what he wanted changed my life, forever.Did I do what was right? Ethical? He begged me to end his suffering. And, I did. That is where my suffering began. On a highway to Hell. Feeling sorry for myself, Blah, Blah, Blah. I have heard it all before. Let me stay awake for eternity. I'll have no worries. Later theblogmeister

The surgeon

They rolled me into the room you go to get ready for surgery. I said goodbye to my beautiful wife and felt her warm lips caress my cold cheek.I was having a spinal fusion done on ,L2,L3,L4,L5,S1. I had it done in 2006 but after 4 months I had a titanium screw break and the bone grafts did not take, so, they went in and took out
71/2 titanium screws, 2 titanium rods and told me I would be okay.What do you think?
Right. I developed a bad case of spondylolisthesis. Big word, huh? Basically what it is the L5 vertebrae has fallen down to the point of disbelief. Surgery will correct the problem. I had heard that before. I was filling the effects of the versed they gave me. I always ask what they put in my IV. I was becoming a little anxious of being put to sleep because sleep is my enemy. It is where the Col. lurks waiting for me.The anesthesiologist came in and told me to open my mouth and I did. No problem tubing me. I wanted to tell the guy that I needed to be strapped to my gurney because of my entering the world where I have no control. The dark. It is his world and not mine. The versed was kicking in more than I had remembered last time and I was slowly falling into the dark. I could not get a word out and my heart began to beat faster. I wanted to let the doctors know of my demon but I couldn't. I was in His World now. The dark enveloped me as a friend. I knew what was coming and it would be my Enemy not my friend. I could not fight it off. I was there. The Dark. theblogmeister

FEAR

Have you really experienced real fear? Let me go a bit further. Terror. Do you know what it is like to have to live with real terror? When every cell in your body comes alive Your body is dumping massive amounts of adrenaline, the brain starts pumping massive amounts of dopamine and serotonin. Your respiratory system starts to shut down and you can't breathe no matter how much you try. The brain send signals to every part of your parasympathetic nervous system telling two things. Flight or fright. That is what I have been dealing with for the past 29 years. That is the reason I spent 15 of those 29 years in state prison. The reason for going to prison? Drugs was the only thing I found to deal with my demon. The use of narcotics was the only thing that quieted my demon. What about being in prison, how did you get narcotics? There is more drugs in prison than on the streets. My demon has a name. His name is Col Renold DeBarge. I had a visit from him last night. My wife, as she has done so many times the last 5 years pulled me away from him. I was in his clutches and it was pure and absolute terror. My dreams are my enemy. The daylight is my friend. I dread it when the sun begins to set. A beautiful sunset to others is fear for me. Can you grasp the enormity of that last statement? The darkness is my fear.I fear the darkness. I fear the night. I fear my own sanity. That is terror! theblogmeister

The Demons are back

I spend most of my time on the back porch. One reason is I can't smoke in the house, so, I have got a little smokehouse/t.v. room on my back porch. My porch is also equipped with a small gas burner to keep us warm. I have 5 little puppies back there to keep me occupied, too.. They do a good job of it, too. They are always into something. But, I like puppies so they don't bother me a bit. Except when they wake me up at all hours of the night playing and growling at each other Let's see, I have 5 puppies, a 12 y.o. poodle that is blind, The mother of the puppies, a chow mix, is at the point where she don't like to feed them because their claws are beginning to hurt her. I see a mess coming.If it wasn't so cold I would let them outside, but that is out of the question. Anyway, the title of my blog is the absolute truth. The demons I am referring to are the puppies. Don't think for a minute that they are not one in the same. They are. Don't be fooled. They are smarter than we give them credit for.They are the next great canine civilization. Snoopy, Wonderdog, The shaggy dog that watched over the herds of sheep, His buddy. I am warning all of you: BEWARE
theblogmeister