Becoming The Ghost - Vol 1

Everyone hits bottom at some point in their life for their own reasons. Being a war veteran makes that rapid approach quicker and more frequent. It's not easy for us to explain exactly how we hit so fast, we just know we did and not always at first. We fight with our own psyche trying to understand what exactly pushed is on this path of self destruction. We tend to blame ourselves for our shortcomings, when it is all based on the trauma or fear of combat. We start to isolate ourselves because we don't know what else to do. We become ghosts.

We got to war to fight for our country, its values and Americans as a whole; and what do we get when we get back? Abandonment and neglect from the same people that sent us to war, and those who's JOB it is to take care of us upon our return. This is not happening. It's an epidemic in this country of great proportions. Our Veterans are being left behind and forgotten. I know for sure that OIF/OEF vets are NOT having it. We're a whole different breed. While we struggle with our wounds, visible & invisible, we still fight...for our benefits. We shouldn't' have to, but what choice do we have? We're not the type to back down. We watched what happened to the Vietnam vets and we're sure as hell not going to give in. We were blamed for the economy because we 'cost too much'. Here's an idea. Stop sending us to war... or at least one war at a time. It's their OWN fault we are in two wars at once. Not ours.

Heart break could definitely be a factor in the severity. I lost how many times I've been walked on, used, ignored, pushed away and forgotten. My heart is currently being held together with tape. Wonder how long it'll hold... I'm actually jealous of all those like me with someone that supports them 100% no matter what. Who has the foundation of a relationship. I'm jealous of THAT. And nothing more. In this sense, friends, family and acquaintances do not count. Two marriages, two divorces and a long road to travel.

I wish I could smile more. I wish I knew how. I'm somewhat expressionless at times. It's like attending a comedy show alone. You wanna laugh, but not by yourself. So, it becomes depressing, boring and isolated. That's when it all starts flooding in at once. Why am I alone? How am I NOT laughing? What the hell is wrong with me? What happened to me? Do I even have any real friends? Am I THAT unlovable? Am I hideous or something? The list goes on an on. And everyone's is the same, yet so very different depending on their level of trauma.

PTSD is a beast to endure. Different things work for different people to help come to terms with what you went through, but it never fully goes away. It can come back full-steam at any time for any reason and there is NOTHING you can do about it. That's the one thing that all veterans understand once they realize what is wrong. Ask any older veteran, like Vietnam, and they'll tell you the same. It never goes away. It stays with you for life. Mix a TBI with that, and you have even more problems. More severe memory loss, loss of balance, migraines, etc etc. It never ends. Its finding a way to deal with it all. Some never do. So far I haven't. Let me explain further.

I feel alone and invisible. Like a ghost. I spend a lot of time talking to myself, instead of talking to others. Even tho I know, at any time, I could pick up a phone and call a friend. But this isn't a game show. Phone a friend isn't always easy. Sometimes when I DO call, no one answers. So, the feeling of being alone is worse. I know I'm not alone, but that's how it feels. The feeling of being unwanted, unloved and forgotten tears a whole the souls of anyone, especially a veteran who NEEDS that should to cry on. As I sit here, drowning my life in music, I feel that way. Is it true? I have no idea. But what can I do? There's always the fear of trying to start up a conversation if you're not sure they even care what you say or want to hear you talk. So, I haven't been really talking. Just keeping to myself because it's safer. I have finally come full circle in this life. I am a ghost in my world. And it sure is dark here.

Chaos

I'm not sure really how to feel these days. What's there to feel? I'm empty and alone. I'm lost and unloved. I've been passed off and abandoned. No matter how hard I try, I just can't seem to find any peace or happiness. No matter how many people I talk to, that will never change. I feel too far gone. I wish I had a reason to be happy. I just don't.

I'm not sure if it's good or bad that I have turned to writing as an outlet? Does it help? A little. But I have no one to talk to. No one is allowed to know about my life. But, thats what I don't get. What's there to hide? I haven't had sex is longer than I care to admit. I don't have a boyfriend... or any other half. It's just me really. I have friends and shit like that, but it's just not the same. Where the hell is my life going? I can't really seem to tell. It's all chaos.

Head Rush

So, things are the same as usual. The VA sucks. I can barely get out of bed. I'm lonely, so the depression stemming from the PTSD is worse. I just feel so alone all the time. The people I live with barely talk to me. I'm like a ghost. I miss the days when I had someone to talk to all the time. When I had someone to hang out with on the weekends, even it included getting drunk, because I trusted those around me and actually enjoyed myself. But now I'm a civilian, and have no one to talk to. Sure, I have people's phone #s, but no one ever answers the phone these days. Even my parents. So, I literally sit on the computer...typing away... talking about nothing just to pass the time. The only conversations I have is when I get volunteered to do stuff I really don't wanna do. That happens more often than I'd like. It's like being active duty again.

I spend more time wishing my life would be different than anything else. It's like I'm a burden unless someone wants something. And that is a horrible feeling. To know no one really wants you around, but you're useful to them for one reason or another. Whether it be the use of your car, or to do stuff they don't wanna do. It's all the same. I thought moving would help me. And it has in very small ways, but for the most part it hasn't. I'm still lonely. I still feel abandoned. I don't think it would of mattered where I went. The outcome would of always been the same. I'd still feel like an outsider with no one to turn to. I'd still feel like I had no one to turn to when I needed someone to be there. It'd all be the same. So, I guess it wouldn't matter. Its sad that I know that the outcome would be the same, but its the truth.

So, for now I do what I can. Which isn't much. I still have no income and am severely behind on bills. So bad, that its greatly affected my credit.. which used to be really good. And of course the VA doesn't give a shit. I have to rely on someone else to put gas in my car so they use my car more than I do. Actually they don't even ask anymore. They claim its 'our' car. Really? Is that why I pay the car payment AND the insurance? Must be. I'm a little bitter about people claiming the only thing I have left to call my own is a shared object. But its whatever. I never say anything because at least they put gas in the car.

There's so much goin through my head. The black onyx stopped that for a while, but it all came to a head. It's all too obvious now. I just wish my life made more sense. Nothing in my life makes sense. I'm never sure if I'm happy the way it is or not, because its never the same. Its always some other bullshit every day. Just when I think I'm ok, my life falls apart again. I'm not sure how much longer I can pick up the pieces and rebuild. I just hope I continue to have the strength and willpower to do so.

And it continues...

The confusion has yet to let up. Nothing in my life makes any sense. Its always hot and cold... off and on... confusion. Thats all I know anymore. There's always an excuse as to why its so difficult to decide, and I remain confused and lost. It never fails.

I went to my PTSD appt at Stanford and I hated it. I don't wanna talk about my childhood. Its irrelevant in my opinion. The longer I was there, the more angry I got. I just don't wanna talk about anything. I need structure. Thats all I need. I managed to get through everything else without any outside help, so I'm almost positive I'll do better on my own...but I'm only going to appease everyone else. I just don't wanna hear people try to coax me into treatment. I don't need to talk about my problems.

I'm still waiting on the VA for my claim. So, each month I get more broke and deeper in debt. All because the VA took forever. If it weren't for Nadia, I'd be homeless. And the VA could give a shit less. THEY ARE CREATING HOMELESS VETERANS. Period.

Back to basics

So, things have finally come to fruition.