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Home Coming




Today I am thankful for Fort Logan.

Today I'm going to spend time with ghosts who share my mental illness.  For many years, it was known as "shell shock".  Some veterans came home and re-lived the war at the dinner table.

My dad re-lived World War II and Korea.  As early as I can remember, he'd get drunk and I'd wind up knocking him over to take the gun he had pointed at one of us.

That's probably how I'm going to die.  I'll probably knock over an aggressive idiot with a gun and get shot  This is why the gun-toting neighbor makes me nervous, especially when he passive aggressively starts baiting the biker neighbors in front of my house.  It's going to get ugly.  I'm having a tough time convincing them to live and let live. 

I'm fairly sure the gun grabbing from my youth is where the PTSD comes from.  That and having to save my mother all the time.  My very first panic attack occurred the day I failed.

I've had so much professional therapy, I became a counselor.  I've had so much audible EMDR that I play it on my bass when I'm stressed out. 

Other things women have to endure brings it right back....rape....stalking....getting hit so hard you wind up with a subdural hematoma..... 

those things retrigger the PTSD.

I truly respect the dearly departed at this place.  They lived like this for years without help. 

****************************

Today I've got flowers, bottled water and Pepsi cans to leave as gifts of thankfulness.

Yeah, I visit the graves of friends and acquaintances of mine. 

It's a Pagan thing.

At least I'll have something to look forward to when the time comes for me to go into the light, I'll be anxious to put faces to the names.   


If anything interesting happens today, I'll update. 

Love ya,

S


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