Red Friday - PTSD is a bitch

http://redfridays.ca/

This post has been brewing in my head for a little while.


As the PTSD Awareness slogan says, not all woulds are visible.

The troops that come home.  The troops that don't come home.


And the troops that only come partway home.

Support the Troops, Support the Families.

Is this what I want to be doing? (O Meme)

I am starting my "Martha Beck/O Mag" Q&A with question 2, because I think that what they have as question 1 should really be last.  It's my blog, I can do what I want.  :o)

2. Is this what I want to be doing?



This very moment is, always, the only moment in which you can make changes. Knowing which changes are best for you comes, always, from assessing what you feel. Ask yourself many times every day if you like what you're doing. If the answer is no, start noticing what you'd prefer. Thus begins the revolution.

Right this second, sure.  I am hanging out with the dogs, tummy full, cup of coffee, chilling, writing.  I got to indulge my creative side today, went for a nice long walk, and had some good chats with Sebastian.  (note: I am writing this Monday night, scheduled to post Tuesday morning)

If I look at the bigger picture, though, I have mentioned before I am not happy with where I am in my life right now.  I am no longer in love with my job, and my living situation isn't working out the way I would have liked it to.  I am not living up to my health potential.

I am looking at at moving toward resolution with my living situation.  I am also going to the gym regularly, and I am mostly pleased with my dedication so far, although I am not seeing stunning results.

Job wise, again I am happier when I am fixing things.  Coming into a situation or organization that has maybe stagnated or suffered other challenges and helping get them back on track.

I do have to make some changes, and hopefully over the next few weeks I will be firming them up.

Cherry Blossoms

Sakura (Cherry Blossom)

We are solidly in the middle (I believe) of Cherry Blossom Season in Japan.  I have also been thinking lately about more tattoos, and an idea is taking place in my brain.

From Wikipedia:
In Japan cherry blossoms also symbolize clouds due to their nature of blooming en masse, besides being an enduring metaphor for the ephemeral nature of life, an aspect of Japanese cultural tradition that is often associated with Buddhistic influence, and which is embodied in the concept of mono no aware. The association of the cherry blossom with mono no aware dates back to 18th-century scholar Motoori Norinaga. The transience of the blossoms, the extreme beauty and quick death, has often been associated with mortality ... Cherry blossom is an omen of good fortune and is also an emblem of love, affection and represents spring. Cherry blossoms are an enduring metaphor for the fleeting nature of life, and as such are frequently depicted in art

From an e-zine regarding tattoo symbolism:

Chinese Cherry Blossom
For the Chinese the cherry blossom is a very significant symbol of power. Typically it represent a feminine beauty and sexuality and often holds an idea of power or feminine dominance. Within the language of herbs and herbal lore of the Chinese the cherry blossom is often the symbol of love.

Japanese Cherry Blossom
For the Japanese the cherry blossom holds very different meaning. The cherry blossom is a very delicate flower that blooms for a very short time. For the Japanese this represents the transience of life. This concept ties in very deeply with the fundamental teachings of Buddhism that state all life is suffering and transitory. The Japanese have long held strong to the Buddhist belief of the transitory nature of life and it is very noble to not get too attached to a particular outcome or not become emotional because it will all pass in time.

The fallen cherry blossom is not taken lightly in Japanese symbolism either. It often represents the beauty of snow and there are many connections made in Japanese literature or poetry to a fallen cherry blossom and snow. This also has been extended to the life of a warrior whose life was ended early in battle.

Memento Mori

The O Magazine Meme ...

My health coach and I are at the stage of my program where we start long term planning and goal setting, life planning, etc (eg: she is getting ready to kick me out of the nest).  So I am thinking about life. 

In addition, she has gently encouraged me to spend more time in the creative process, whether that is writing, jewellery making, sewing, whatever.

Conveniently, I opened the current issue of O Magazine, and found this great article:
http://www.oprah.com/spirit/Martha-Becks-20-Questions-That-Could-Change-Your-Life_1 

So, randomly, over the next little while, when I have no other topic burning a hole in my head, I will be answering the questions posed in the article.  Go have a look, and think about your own answers.  Anyone who wishes is welcome to play along, either on your own blogs or in the comments section here.

Werewolves and nightmares

By the time I got to bed Thursday night, I had been awake for roughly 42 hours straight.  Of course, I was completely wired by the sleep deprivation  and the testing (which I can describe later - I need to purge this out of my head first).  I wasn't sure I was going to be able to sleep after all that, so I popped a couple of melatonin tablets (an herbal sleep aid which I have used before).

I laid down around 2300, and even then it took until into early Friday morning to actually fall asleep.  When I did finally make it to sleep, it was a restless sleep, punctuated by dreams.  Nightmares, actually.  The kind of nightmares that linger on after you are awake, even though you *know* they aren't real, you find yourself looking around, turning on lights, with a hovering sense on unease.  A day and a bit later, (and well rested) I still can't completely shake it.

Usually, when I have a nightmare, I can roll over to my other side and the dreams will either banish, or switch to pleasant ones.  Not this one.  I rolled over - the dream came back.  I got up for some water and a pee - the dream came back.  Every time I closed my eyes and started to drift off, the dream came back.

I don't remember every detail, but I remember parts vividly.  I know I was in a bar, not a bar I know, the typical "roadhouse" type bar you see in movies - long and low.  There was a definite reddish cast to the whole dream, and this roadhouse seemed to be in the middle of no-where (of course); a splash of red light in the middle of the dark night.

I don't recall being with anyone I knew in the dream, I was just in the bar.  There were a number of other people in the bar, and I somehow *knew* that many of them were werewolves, even though they were in human form.  Not the warm, fuzzy, socially conscious type werewolves that have been made popular in modern fiction; not they type that blend well with society and eat burgers.  No, these were the "older" type of werewolves, the kind that see humans as toys, prey, and/or food.  Werewolves with bad attitudes.

Sure enough, things went downhill, and the werewolves decided to (for lack of a better term) start a brawl.  It gets a bit fuzzy in my memory, but somehow I ended up in the vestibule of the roadhouse with three young male and really aggressive werewolves (still in human form - they never did "change").

I was fighting back, but I knew they were toying with me, and I knew I was toast.  I suddenly remembered (?) that I had a pistol with me, and silver bullets (its a dream, people.  It doesn't have to make sense).  So I pulled out my trusty pistol and put a silver bullet in the middle of the forehead of the werewolf closest to me ... who smiled, and kept coming for me.  I paniced and fired at the other two ... 

and woke up.

Woke up completely creeped out, and nervous.  Turned on the lights, looked around, tried to calm down.  Looked at the clock - 0300.

Eventually calmed down enough to try sleep again, and finally made it into a dreamless, restful sleep, until about 0630.  I hadn't set my alarm, but I don't "sleep in" well.  Made it through Friday OK, but the dream has continued to rear itself up from my sub-conscious when I am not expecting it - scenes will flash in my mind with no warning.  Went to bed last night around midnight (no melatonin) and had a dreamless sleep.  But the werewolves are still there, just under the surface.

No idea where to even start trying to figure out the symbolism on this one, what my sub-conscious is trying to tell me.  Honestly, just hoping that putting it all on paper will get it out of my head.

Thanks for listening. ♥

Sleep Deprivation, and the endless post

20:35

Hey folks.  Tomorrow I go for my "Sleep Deprived EEG" to try to find out what is going on with my brain.  I don't remember what I have told you before, and I am too lazy to go look, so briefly, the current theory is that I have scar tissue on my brain from repeated concussions, and that is interferring with signals that affect balance, fine motor control (the swallowing issue) and memory.

I woke up at 0600 this morning, and forgot to have a nap this afternoon, and I am not allowed to sleep tonight, so by the time the test is over I will have been awake for about 28 hours straight.  A friend is driving me to and from the hospital, so no worries there. 

In an effort to stay awake tonight, I will be coming back here to purge my brain from time to time.  Instead of creating new posts, I will likely just "stream of conciousness" here (unless I have a stunning idea that deserves its own post) ... so forgive me if I get a little odd!

Midnight ...

So my friend, her hubs, and kids have gone to bed.  It's just me, 2 dogs and a cat awake (gee, this feels strangely like home!).

I was getting a little sleepy, but seem to have hit my second wind.  I have the TV on low in the background, and here I am writing.  And I just discovered that Restrepo is on the National Geographic Channel in an hour - Yay!  There is currently a show on called "Inside: Afghan Marine Base".  Thery are currently showing an IED disposal team ... this might not be the best thing to watch while mentally compromised.

I am trying not to borrow trouble about what tomorrow might bring.  I have done a bit of research on what the neurologist thinks is going on, what he is looking for tomorrow.  Basically, he thinks I have had too many concussions, and that there is scar tissue in my brain causing some "short circuits".

If that is what it is, then there are a couple of causes for concern - one, there is no way to make it better, and two, it will get worse over time, based on our current medical knowledge.

Awesome.

For info on what I am on about, please see this link:
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Chronic_traumatic_encephalopathy

I'll check in again later.

00:27
Oh, the guys on TV just did a textbook BIP (Blow In Place) of a 65 KG pressure plated IED.  Beautiful in HD ... from the safety of my friend's sofa, knowing through the magic of TV that no one was hurt, and knowing that all "my" peeps are currently safe ...

01:30
Watching Restrepo all by yourself in a strange house when you've been awake for 19 hours and have naught but a snoring Golden Retriever for company, not such a great idea.  Especially with surround sound ... so when you are kinda vegging out, a soldier clears his throat BEHIND YOU ...

02:40
Being the only one awake is kinda lonely.  Except for the above mentioned snoring dog.  Oh, and I really, really should stay off e-bay, and the Harley Davidson site, in this state of mind.

Sebastian is, hopefully, sound asleep right now, but when he wakes he is back in greens, and mostly happy to be so.  He is not fond of what he is doing for a "job" right now, but he is still in the mind set where anything that is not hiking and looking for IEDs and bad guys is no fun.  Interestingly, I had my MRI the day he flew back to Canada, and I am having my EEG on his first day back at the regiment.

03:08
I'm guessing that starting to fantasize about the test being over, so i can come back here and close my eyes and get some sleep, is a bad sign, since I have 4 more hours before anyone else here is awake ... and likely close to 7 more hours before I can actually rack out.

04:13
Well, I am awake again.  Very odd message on a friend's FaceBook page just now, a plea for help, but he doesn't know where he is; and the language is very out of charachter ... either someone has hacked his account (my preferred option); he is very, very drunk (also out of charachter) or he is actually in trouble, and either drunk or drugged.

Whatever is going on, all thoughts of sleep have now left me again.

04:38
That little rally didn't last long.  Fighting the sleep demons again

Red Friday - Support the Troops

http://redfridays.ca/

The memorial at CFB Petawawa to Canadian Afghanistan Fallen

The walkway leading up to the memorial, showing the first few trees that will become the commemorative forest.

Of Forests and Men

2011 - International Year of Forests

Aha moments ...

I was reading a post on superstitions over at SpouseBUZZ, and this line hit me like a punch:

The thing is, even when your spouse returns from a deployment, that feeling of the possibilities – the possibility of loss – never entirely goes away.


We are not quite 2 months past homecoming, and I have found myself to be a bit off lately.  Crying for no reason, or for things like Tim Horton's commercials ... bitchy for no reason ... worried, distracted, needy, the list goes on.

So many people say to me "Oh, you must be so glad he is home, that he is safe" and I AM, I truly, truly am ...

but maybe the what ifs and what could have beens are still haunting the corners of my mind.  I guess they are always there, to some degree, but in the months when you are still celebrating the joy of being together, they are a little fresher, a little closer to the surface.

For every action

there is an equal and opposite reaction.

I am a decent house keeper, but admit in the past I have sometimes left dishes in the sink for a day (or even 2).  I have always been fairly particular about my stove top being clean, however.

Living with other people has made what was a normal habit into a compulsion.

TW's daughters are not clean.  They leave dishes, food, condiments, fast food containers, etc in the kitchen, on the counter, in the living room, and in their rooms.  If the dishes and wrappers weren't clues enough, the stove top can be forensically analyzed to determine what they have cooked over the last few days.

I have tried various approaches to dealing with this.  Yelling had an immediate response, but no long term effect, and made me feel worse.  Logic and appealing to their ethics and morals got me that blank chicken stare I mentioned a few days ago.  I tried the reverse of the broken window theory - for a little more than 2 weeks I cleaned the kitchen twice a day, did all their dishes, thinking that if they got used to a clean kitchen they would keep it that way - nope.

My current approach is to wash all the dishes I use and put them away, almost immediately.  Prep dishes are done while meals are cooking, and if something needs to cool before being consumed dishes are done and the stove is cleaned while that happens.  I can't even leave something in the sink while I eat, it seems.  Like I said, it is almost becoming an obsession.

Unfortunately, the pool of clean dishes, pots, etc I have to draw from is ever dwindling.

Interestingly enough, I have been told that while I was away last week they actually cleaned the kitchen themselves twice.  But now that I am home, we are back to staus quo.

I am looking for a place to move in to.  I cannot handle this any more.  The disadvantages far outweigh any advantages for me.  I have told TW this, and she tried to change my mind, but I am sticking to my guns.

(And no, before any of you mention it, moving up to where Sebastian is posted is not currently an option, for a number of reasons.  Lovely thought, but not yet. He does, however, agree with me moving, and doesn't see how I stuck it out this long.)

Most Recent Visit

My visit up to see S last week went very well.  Things are very comfortable, and we fit into each other's lives nicely.  It was a very good visit.

He is still having a bit of a hard time getting used to being back in Canada, and misses A'stan.  It is getting better, but it is definitely still there.  Things like the grocery store still bother him.  But he has chilled out about the fact that a sniper could see into his kitchen.  S'all good.

It did occur to him to make sure I understood that wanting to be back there does not necissarily mean he doesn't want to be here, or that he wants to go away from me.  I do understand that, and told him he didn't have to worry about hurting my feelings.  There are some things going on here, politics and posturing within the Regiment, that make life over there simple by comparison.  It is the life he knew for so many months, it was, in some ways, much simpler.  I get it.

I think that is one of the things that makes this relationship work well.  He knows I won't judge him, and that I try not to read meanings into things he says.  If I want clarification on something, if I think he means something more that what he has actually said, I will (usually) ask him.

Leaving to come home was hard, for me.  I did, as always, manage to keep the tears in check until I had pulled away.  He seemed confused by my sadness - I mean, he is staying "home" for a while, not going anywhere scary.  He looked at me with confusion and said "But, you'll be back soon!", looking for an explanation of why I was holding on so tight.  I couldn't, and still can't, put it into words, at least not words that he will understand.  He is amazing at keeping the connection, staying in touch, including me in his life when we are separated by geography.  But I still miss him when we are apart.

Sometimes, reality bites.

First Deployment Blues ...

A dear friend just got word that her son, a relatively new recruit, may be deploying.  His unit has just finnished a "winter warfare" exercise - which she has referred to as "winter camping" and the pictures he has sent her of "combat" have her a bit freaked out.

I do not know any details of when/where/what yet, but it really doesn't matter.  There have been a couple of articles lately on SpouseBUZZ ~ Do Some Deployments Count More Than Others? and Early Lessons in the Snowflake Phenomenon (which references THIS awesome post) which talk about how each deployment is different, with its own challenges and emotions.

I have been reflecting a bit on various deployments of loved ones I have expereinced.  Obviously there are differences between the Wolf and Sebastian, differences between peacekeeping in Cyprus, mid 90's tours in the Balkans, protecting the apple harvest in Macedonia, or recent business trips to Afghanistan.  The list goes on.  Differences in who I was during these deployments, where I was in my relationship with the one deployed, and in my relationship with myself.

Snowflakes.

So after some thought and reflection, I offered to my friend the only words I could.  I'm here.  With a hug, a shoulder, whatever may be needed.  It does not really matter where her son is going, what he will be doing.  Her feelings are real, and her own, and I will be there for her no matter what.

Because no matter what else this life throws at us, we have each other.  We have to.

Talking to chickens ...

Have you ever looked a chicken in the eye and tried to have a deep, meaninful, or at least productive conversation?


Unfortunately, I have some people in my life who respond about the same as a chicken would.

On writing, and blogging ...

From the introduction to the 10th Anniversary edition of Kitchen Table Wisdom:

"I quickly discovered I am an author and not a writer.  Writers are people who are born to write.  An author, on the other hand, seems to be born to do something else and then writes a book about it.  This is a very different thing entirely."

and this, from Pioneer Woman's blog:

2. Blog often.

Whether you write a sixteen-paragraph essay about the cosmic implications of a free market system or a one-paragraph description of what happens to your soul when you walk into your godforsaken laundry room, consider your blog a precious bloom that requires daily nurturing.


And watering.


If you water a plant once every two weeks, it will shrivel.


Unless that plant is a cactus, and then it would thrive.


And to tell you the truth, I really can’t figure out how a cactus fits into this analogy, so forget I brought it up.

I have a number of bloggy-friends, and they all blog for their own reasons.  My reasons have changed with time, and still vary from day to day, but the fact is I actually enjoy writing, enjoy communicating, and enjoy getting feedback on that.  Sometimes I blog to get thoughts out of my head, sometimes I blog to reach out, sometimes I blog to say something I can't, out of politeness, say to the person who has spawned the thought.

I am not sure, using the difinition in the first quote, if I am a writer or an author.  I think that also varies based on the day.