I'm no longer alone

I find it ironic that the one thing that has come about from me having PTSD is that it has enabled me to view it in others. I have a friend who has told me time and time again that he's fine. That is until I told him that I didn't believe him and that I knew he was hiding it from me. He confessed. I listened and it was like hearing someone tell me my own thoughts. I knew what he was saying, how he was feeling and what he was thinking. He felt as though his head was full. The inability to actually think, feel, process or act in any other way other than "automatically".

I've talked him into getting help. So now we wait..........

The anger, fear, anxiety, depression, constantly being alert is still there. Over a year later after being cut loose from the Australian military and being left to survive on my own, nothing has changed.

I've tried to start a hobby to give me something to do. Frustrating is about the best way to describe it.

My memory is still crap. I mean it took me three months to remember what the log in was to this dumb blog. So much for keeping it together.

I was thinking the other day that if I had a chance to get back into it, either Afghanistan or Iraq I'd take it. Why? Because at least then it was real. My life as jarking, bleak, etc was real.

Is this how it is?

I've been a civilian now for almost two weeks. What's it like? Well it feels as though I've been cut adrift. The Dept of Veterans Affairs just keeps asking for more paperwork. No phone calls to see how I am and what can they do. Just go get another medical certificate to say you can't work. Why? Because the other four weren't good enough? Getting getting kicked out of the military isn't enough?

Today I had to go to Centrelink (the Australian Welfare office) so my wife could apply for a benefit to look after me (as she is unable to work as much because she is caring for me). I have never been in such a place that fills you with despair. Even the people who worked their looked as though any peson who walked in the door was a hopeless case. Doesn't matter if you were looking for work or not. I never want to go into that place again. The lady who looked after me was nice enough, but the whole place just felt as though I should just give up.

So now I am at the whim of the system. If this is how it is then this sucks. So much for the contract of faith between me and the government when you join the military to be looked after.

Today Is The Day.

Today is the last day and tomorrow is the first day of forever. After almost 17 years of wearing a military uniform I will no longer put on the uniform of my country. Tomorrow is the first day of being John Q. Civilian and is also my birthday. Happy Birthday to me.

So how does the fact that this is the last day in the military for me feel? Honestly nothing. I don't feel anything. People have asked me over and over again how I feel about this life changing event. The only thoughts I have on it are whether the "incapacity" payments and superannuation payments will start at the right time so my family will be able to pay it's bills and be able to eat. Other than that I am rather indifferent to it all. I just don't care.

Well this chapter closes and another begins. Will this be a long chapter? Will I even be bothered? Who knows what life has installed for me.

The End is Near

Yes the end is near. After almost 17 years of service I am soon to be John Q Civilian. My life is now spent trying to sort out my life post military. I go to meetings and fill out forms. I have no idea what any of it means or what they are saying. I try and listen and comprehend it but I just can't. They might as well be speaking a little known Chinese dialect from the fukdifiknow provence. So as I sail these waters for the final month of my military career I head into the unknown. DVA have accepted that my PTSD is war caused but I haven't heard about anything else. I don't know how much of a pension I will be getting, I don't know if I will be able to live and support my wife and six children or pay my mortgage. Got to love the "Thank you" for your military service.

DVA only pay you part of your "pension" (but it's not a pension) . They get together with the military superannuation people and decide who is going to pay what. So basically it's now up to the superannuation people to decide how "disabled" I am and what are the chances I can work again. All the specialists I've seen have said that I would probably never work again. Great.

One other point I have is that why so many forms? I mean I've filled out forms and submitted a pile to one agency that was 2 inches (5 cm) thick. Most of it had information that was repeated up to 12 times! Then I have to fill in more forms for another agency etc and then there is the forms for Defence. I don't understand any of it so I just sign my moniker and let wheels keep on turning. Might be easier if I was dead. Paperwork wise anyway.

Hooray for death by a thousand papercuts and a thousand staples.

Life, love and an Iraqi Veteran.

Yes it's been a year. Lazy? Probably, so get over it.

What has happened in a year? Let me see. Kevin07 has been elected and is soon to be replaced with Recession08. The world economy is down the flushing thing and people are in a panic. So what has actually changed?

Me? my life roles on as it has. Yes I still have PTSD and somehow I am still on this mortal coil. My days are spent swinging from one emotion to the other. Right now? Anger, depression after an afternoon of anxiety. My life is now spent waiting for the other shoe to drop. Always on edge. It's hard to have a family when the kids wrap their arms around you saying "Daddy, I love you" and you just mumble something in return. Because you can't feel it. My 3 year old daughter came running up to me tonight whilst cooking dinner. She was screaming that she had hit her nose. I felt no sympathy or worry as any father would. I looked at her and my response was "Your fine" and turned back to cooking. Cold? Yes. Unloving? Yes. But I just don't seem to be able to connect with my kids or my wife really. I don't seem to be able to connect to anyone. I've thought about suicide, almost daily actually. The only thing that keeps me from doing it are the thoughts of how unfair it would be to them. Not out of love or caring as a father mind you, just it wouldn't be fair. I suppose I do have some humanity left, but not much.

One would think that I am insane if they were privy to my inner most thoughts. I probably am. But I would also argue that my wife would be a tad mental as well. She puts up with me. She tolerates my rants and insecurities as well as my paranoia and mood swings. She deals with all of this plus our kids and works, yet if I called her at work and asked her to come home, she would in a heart beat. I am very fortunate to have such a loving and caring wife, but sometimes I wish she would and take the kids with her. Then I would have nothing and no reason to remain on this earth. It would be so easy then. I've even thought how I would do it. Alcohol and pills. Drink so much and take every single piece of medication I can find, no matter what it is. Is it fair to her to have these thoughts? I don't know but every day I wake up after an awful nights sleep of nightmares, waking up startled (at least four times a night) and wakeful period to see her beautiful face. For half a second everything else is forgotten. So that helps me stay another day.

It's been a while since my last entry in this blog. I could use the excuse that I've been busy with my life and blah blah blah that I just haven't had the time. Honestly? I have been busy but busy doing nothing. My life is such that with PTSD I have time, lots of it but doing something with it seems to be too hard. Part of PTSD (Post Traumatic Stress Disorder) is the inability to process information. This means that at times (more than I like) I find it hard to do simple things such as read. I start to read and it just all blurs and my mind starts to wander. So writing anything longer than two lines can also be a major struggle. What makes it worse is that I know I can do better, I know I used to do better but doing it is almost impossible. If I need to write anything I do it on the computer where I can do a little, save it and then come back later. Everything is done in small bites sized chunks.

PTSD has all sorts of symptoms. Anger, agression, fear, hyper vigilence, etc. Trying to deal with one and then swinging to the other end of the spectrum is draining. You can be set of by small trivial things. One example is that I ordered some chicken pieces from a pizza joint. They were delivered to my house still cold from the freezer in the middle. I rang up and complained, got told that it couldn't have happened. I told that it did and I wanted it replaced. I ended up talking to the manager (some 18 year old) and explained the health impact of eating chicken that was not reheated properly (as it's cooked previously). I was angry at the time, furious even. Well he said he'd replace it without any problems. I got off the phone and went from being angry to scared and sad and started crying. Once it passes your tired and just want to sleep.

So this is why I took so long before I entered this blog. Mind you, I'm not sure anyone would actually want to read this anyway.