Post Traumatic Stress Disorder-PTSD

the door to barracks D

Originally uploaded by jayfherron.

….or,still sick!
I began treatment for PTSD nearly two years ago. I did not know what was wrong with me was a known sickness,nor did I know I was sick. I did know I carried fears and phobia’s with me through out my adult life and I did know that much of the fanatic ways I operated in my daily life were’nt normal-and though they were’nt clear to me as PTSD they were clearly results of the way I was treated in barracks D ( you have to read most of these pages to understand-barracks D ).
The holidays are coming up…every one is passing the change beggers at the grocery store,me included…those guys ringing the bells for the Salvation Army just as they did way back when I was a kid-except back then the bell ringers wore crisp uniforms and there seemed to be more enthusiasm. But still people are saying to me to have a happy crixmix…asking if I have special plans?
It is a season for me to remember the impact of the reality of the time of year and nothing more,especially not a time for crixmix cheer-not for me.
The impact of reality is what I am showing in my painting-the door to barracks D. Perhaps I should attach it to crixmix cards and send them to family so they can see what a mental wreck I have been…and why I am so indifferent about crixmix.
I was stationed on the USS Vulcan crixmix season of 1969-a young sailor only 18 years old and weighing in at 120 at best….my first crixmix away from home-we called it Christmas there,my folks setting up the house with glitter and lights and a tree.
They set up a tree in the galley of the ship-heck,they even had a Santa guy so all the fathers on the ship could bring thier kids aboard to visit daddies and see the big red man….so the crixmix stuff was an inspiration for us lads new to the service and first time being away from the closeness of family. I was dissappionted about missing the days of ‘cheer’ at home for the most specialist day of the year….but excited to be going home for New Years weekend.
In the course of my treatment at the VA for the PTSD issues I was offered a sot in a group…well-it was more a suggestion that I went along with. I hate it and am wanting to back out and yet the fear of being assertive is in full gear and I have been sticking it out-reluctantly. It is almost killing me to go-it is especially worse when the other guys do not show and it is me with the doctor-and frankly….I don’t think he really understands what he is dealing with in any of us,me in particular. I leave there with an anger-and really…fear for him because at times he provokes me in a way that I feel like swinging at him to knock his ignorence square. Odd-violence has never been a thing for me-EVER….but the way the guy questions a certain thing and you give the only possable answer back just to be told that is not the answer??? I’m sorry doctor-thats the answer and ask me ten years from now and that will be the answer.
Yesterday after leaving the VA my cell phone went to ringing and it was my brother…my only living sibling-and I could’nt answer the phone. Our dad has been sick for a little over a year-and the message on the answering machine says he’s in intensive care. I have’nt responded back-I’m not sure how to.
I was greeted with a closed door in 1970-after the rapes and after my discharge….my disgraceful discharge-which is all my family could see,there was no talk about the events in barracks D….or no reality that I was there for one reason,my brother! ( he’s been dead five years now ).
My heart longs for the truth to be known to my family…but that will never happen-except I believe that my father is already gone and God is showing the sons life my father ignored,and showing the love that son has always tried to convey…to blank eyes and hardend heart.
Its funny ha ha odd funny how the thought of rape is just in the confines of the assault itself. It may be that way for the assailent-but the rape was not ended at the finish for them…it continued and continued and kept on going and it still continues to this very second in my life. My heart wants to scream for my fathers love in return…love me dad? love me!!!
The left overs are too stale to refresh.
Stuck in time for all of us is 1970….always the stigma of ‘Jay could’nt make it in the Navy’…never the question-why? what happened?
So it is expected that I will fail the family and not arrive to see my father hooked up to machines…or is he in a casket? Either way-I want to gather him up a plead for his love and give him the understanding I was not a failure…
I find it facinating-the numbers of people who have read these pages of my life now know more about me than my own family does. I am ripened for thier blame…it will be that way if he dies and I am not available,it is that way any way. Strangers in this world whom I’ve never met-and yet earn recognition from by thier comments of what I have written,and I have been blessed by that-these people who have done what my own family has not-taken an interest in my words and my thoughts and my travels.
Theres more to say…it is just hard to convey it at this time.

6 Responses to “Post Traumatic Stress Disorder-PTSD”

  1. shellia Says:

    I see more than was person in this Jay……one laying on the floor of the box which is to the left…..probably with looking at it more, more will appear.

  2. shellia Says:

    ….more than one person……oops

  3. salome Says:

    I found your blog a few days ago, and I’ve been going through past entries. Please keep writing, it means a lot to me that there’s someone out there brave enough to share all this.

  4. jayherron Says:

    …thank you-it is a therapy for me too! and…I am thankful to know my words mean a lot to others,thank you!

  5. Hope Says:

    Pleading for love to ears that cannot or will not hear for years -what has it gotten you? The only thing I really learn as I get older is that you can’t make another person feel what you want them to feel, think what you want them to think, or do what you want them to do. If you could crawl in thier heads, past the crap you think they think when they see you, “Jay couldn’t make it in the Navy,and he fails at a lot of stuff,” you would hear these words of encouragement instead, ” Jay, we love you no matter what. You are a very special person, and you deserve good things to happen to you.” I know how it is to want that recognition – that, “Good job” from ones you love,so here it is from me. Make it a point to change how you think everyone thinks about you, and you’ll see huge changes in your life. Truth be known, there’s no one out there who wants to see you down. Your brother, for whatever role he played in your life, is gone, and no one can hold you down but you now. I’m sure when you were born, your father looked down at you just wanting you to live. That’s all a father needs, and you have done that. You are more precious to the ones who made you than you will ever know, or they could ever show.
    Accept the things you cannot change doesn’t mean liking them. It just means moving forward trying to do better. Reaching out and being connected like you’re doing with this blog, helps you and others. Oh, and remember there’s a lot of folks you help enlighten who will never comment. Just know they passed through, and you helped them. There’s a lot of people who think you’re a brave writer. Like delivering important parts for NASA and building brilliant scaffolding, your influence is much larger than the U.S. now. That should make you at least smile. Best wishes.

  6. jayherron Says:

    …that was definantly cool-thank you Hope! really,thank you!

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