I know some folks who have known me all my life……find some of this so strange. That I went from being one kind of person, to another so different. Most, if not all, of what I am writing tonight, I have mentioned before. But, I still get asked why I am like this now. How come I can’t be out in public, or why I don’t want to leave home. Especially folks from back when and where I grew up. So sometimes, I answer the questions again. I don’t feel obligated to answer them, but putting it on my blog puts it out there for anyone who wants to read it. I can refer folks who have questions, to a particular entry. And maybe, just maybe, there is someone out there that is like me…..that might realize that it’s okay to ask for help and that they are not alone. After I got out of the military, I worked full time. I drove everywhere. I did everything. I also had PTSD (from my time in service). I was undiagnosed. I could not figure out what was wrong with me. Over years and years things just got worse, until I was ready to check out permanently. I didn’t want to live anymore. At the same time, I developed COPD, which knocked me down hard. One day I could do stuff, and the next day I was in the hospital barely able to breathe. That was in 2014. It was really from that point on, my PTSD kicked into full gear, and my world became very, very small. I still had all the other problems and behaviors, but I also added isolation. I was fearful. I stopped leaving home. I stopped driving. I stopped living. In 2016 I made a last ditch call for help, and called the VA crisis line. It ended up being one of the best decisions I ever made. I’ve spent the last five years unraveling 35 some odd years of chaos…..both what I caused myself, and others. Some relationships were damaged so badly, there was no salvaging them. I had to let that go. I had to learn that I am not responsible for the choices that others make. I also had to learn that I did the best I could at the time with what I had (PTSD) and to forgive myself for all the pain I caused others. I had to forgive myself for all the terrible behaviors I engaged in, and choices I made. I had to get selfish and concentrate on me. I had to figure out how I was a worthy human being. This included me putting myself into a voluntary inpatient PTSD program (many of you remember I spent months up in Tomah, WI). I’ve made positive change in my life. I’ve learned how to deal with lots of things….many methods of communication with others, how to solve problems, how to stay on course…..up at Tomah this was called “all the tools in my toolbox.” I’m still working on some things. I still don’t like to leave the house. Driving itself isn’t so much the problem. I’d be just fine if I never had to get out of the blazer. I still have problems in public spaces because I am always looking at everyone and working out the worst case scenarios, and plans of escape. Let me tell you, it puts a huge damper on having a good time doing anything, not that I leave home now for anything fun…….but there was a time when I did, and nope. Not fun at all. I was too busy “staying safe.” So, while I’ve made life changing progress, I still have “things.” Some of them are big things. I’m working on them. In the meantime, the VA took over all of my medical care. I have a great primary doctor, great mental health care, and just got a new pulmonary doctor that I like a lot. I got a nebulizer and a cpap from the VA. I get all my medications from the VA. Don has always been there for me, and it’s good for him that I’ve made these changes too. I often wonder why he stayed, and I marvel that he loves me that much to endure decades of my messy mind. I have good friends here where I live. Not a ton of them, but a small group I can ask for help, and they look out for me. I have dear friends on FB. I can’t imagine where we would be without them. FB friends kept us fed when we had no money, and encouraged us when we had no hope. You can’t put a monetary value on something like that. I also lost a lot. 35 years of happiness. I lost friends. I lost jobs (I never got fired, I was a good worker, but I quit good jobs often). Just working through the enormous amount of guilt I felt because of all my bad choices, was a huge part of my therapy. It was like breaking chains. One by one. PTSD is terrible. If you know someone who has PTSD (regardless of how they got it, or where, or when), please encourage them to get help. Be there. Don’t molly-coddle or tolerate poor behavior. Be a light, in their darkness. I’m feeling emotional tonight. I’m rambling. After all that, for all of you who have been a light for me, thank you for not giving up on me even after I gave up on myself. Okay, I’m going to stop writing (poor grammar and all) and thinking now. ❤