Archive for October, 2012

Akin, Murdouk and those with no clue

October 25, 2012
Untitled by jayfherron
Untitled, a photo by jayfherron on Flickr.

I dropped in to see an old pal of mine-and we were just having a talk about anything in mind, just a pop in for a “how do you do and how’s it been” kind of a thing. My friend happens to bring up seeing a fellow who lives in our community-saying he had not seen this person in a while, and it was good to see him. I had seen the guy too-and realized it had been a long while, this is a small community-so it is typical to keep in mind faces if not names of most every longtime resident. I did not feel so good about seeing him, the guy makes me wretch, in 1980’s he was convicted for putting his sick trauma on a young girl-a member of his household-and he is required to register forever as a predator. I remember the incident when he was arrested-I was dating a relative of his at the time and recall how devastated the family was. This is a small rural town, things aren’t always kept secret.
The day after the conversation bothered me-sitting there trying to act cheerful that “gee whiz…you saw ol’ so n so”? and really thought…who cares? So, for the moment, I just mulled through it.
Yesterday I thought to send the link to the FDLE files of our perp’s record thinking maybe my friend had been away from the area working when the fervor of this perp’s actions hit the newspaper. I guess now I was wrong. My pal emails me back with one sentence that said “shit Jay…that was 25 years ago”!!
Man, it does not go away that easy!!
I was and still am disgusted. How ignorant so many are! It is right up there in the proof level indicator of the degree of stupidity – people who have no idea what it is like physically assaulted in the area of what some try to define as ‘sexual’ ought to keep their mouths shut!
I have ALWAYS had trouble with the attachment of the word ‘sexual’ to the word ‘assault’, as if the connection could serve to soften the blow. The reality is-this trauma is deeply damaging and has no softness for the victim, no loving touches, no gentle moment, no good feeling, no moment of love…nothing about it rings intimate-it all creates a monster of a memory, and often makes you wish you were dead!
It is like these polotickshions like Todd Akin or the next in line, Mourdock…making fools of themselves trying to establish a firm standing with God and yet saying the most sick statements about something they seriously have no business speaking about what so ever! I can them that even after 40 years of passing the date when my attacks happened that it still frightens me to enter a public building-or a restroom-and that it still wakes up with me each day and makes me remember that time in my life where I was damaged so much…any time I am in the bathroom to do my daily needs-it does NOT escape me! And I cannot even begin to imagine what I would feel if I was a woman and the results of becoming pregnant…I could not begin to even describe what I would feel, and yet I too am a survivor and have my own painful memory. It is not something soft in our hearts-it is more like stone!
The man in our town was not convicted of molestation-his conviction includes damages…I’m not going any further than that, but knowing what it was his cousin described was this elementary school aged child went to her school-directly across the street from her house-and told a very prominent local teacher that “her daddy was trying to make baby’s on her”, her only ability to describe what was happening.
Damages?
You had all better believe this, this is a crime of serious long lasting effects on the victim. It may have been 25 years ago in a time frame, but that time frame for the victim is everlasting-forever embedded in your very soul.
I remember when I was told to file a VA claim for PTSD disability. It seemed easy for a moment to be able to trust, perhaps. But at the DVA office I tell the officer there my story about being raped-a man by men- and he responds saying as matter of fact it surprised him that homosexuals had a need to rape each other. He later made light jokes about my being raped. The day my rapes happened 42 years ago-the man I reported to made a chuckle in his throat and told me to “get used to it!”. When?
25 years is a time-but for the little girl written about here it has been a life-time Even her story-I have no idea how to say I’d feel, but it is not too hard at all to understand that it is certain she has many millions of haunting memories of it all.
It troubles me how so many have so little understanding the depth of the trauma the crime of battery on a person such as the battery placed on us-and sickens me that for some particular reason polotickshions can take such an affirming stand that they are in direct communication with God enough to make such ignorant statements as Akin and Murdouk
You have to understand-the damages are not only mental damages. There are physical damages from having something forced on you and inside of you-along with being beaten up, or along with having a person from within your life with that should have everlasting trust, all of these things plus more, shattered by the moment of absolute panic that raged from that minute on.
I had another friend-actually around 25 years ago. This guy would get up at 0300 in the morning to help you if you needed it. He helped me many times keeping my old cars running. We were friends! And one day he contacts me at my job and asks me if I could write him a letter-to a judge-saying how a good of a guy he was. I asked why-and he said he could not explain it right then, but later-right now he was in a jam. So-I wrote a letter.
A few months go by and this guy’s wife calls me up and tells me he got sentenced to 8 years in prison-and wanted me to visit (and could I please bring cigarettes) and it was at that visit my friend tells me how one thing led to another with his step daughter, an 8 year old, and it was coming out of his mouth so matter of fact as if it was kind of a slight inconvenient thing that he was there. He sort of seemed to act like this 8 year old girl molested him, this big huge monster ; fat gross symbol of shit….his last words to me on that sole visit “Jay, this place is hell-don’t ever come here”! And my last words to him as I exited were “You deserve to bed fed your food from the concrete floor”…in worse words then that! I ran into his wife about 2 years ago and she told me he had cancer-my first knowledge of him from those years ago-and I remember thinking “he is a cancer”, and wondered why she thought I would feel sorry fr him.
I’m sorry, it is just that it troubles me so much how any person can take this type of personal violence-and think lightly of it. I’m sick and tired of polotickshions making statements they believe are God based-when they need to read the knowledge given in the reading of Isaiah chapter 40…there is no searching Gods understanding boys! So – shut up about something you have no connection with!
Peace

I thank Myst o…

October 12, 2012

I thank Myst of http://mstrecovery.blogspot.com for the comment she made the other day-her description of the VA’s PTSD re-evaluation center, and the feelings of fear she had. I understand that fear-and it is because of the very same fear that I am unable to feel at ease in the VA Medical Center near my home-most likely any VA med-center would fit that bill and has promise to irritate my fear-and set me off in a muddled exit.

I don’t think I have ever written about my first experience with the VA Medical Center was back in 1974 when I was rushed there in an ambulance-then the thought was my pain was from appendicitis until it was discovered I was severely impacted from several years of avoiding the bathroom-keeping myself from going to the toilet-especially that toilet which required my touching the area of so much pain-mental pain-and the reminder every day of my life of what happened. Everyday!

I remember the night up on the 5th floor of the VA when the treatments and such applied to my problem opened up everything-I was told my screams were heard all over the 5th floor.

I never felt my time in the service was just. It certainly was not right-it was not what the dream of serving my country was like, but it surely carried into the stream of being free to seek treatment medically at the VA. It was guilt-doubled by not serving the full four years of my enlistment and sitting in the pack of veterans then in 1970’s who filled the walls of the VA from literally edge to edge. Guilt ran through my soul any time I went to the VA-anytime, then or now! I did not serve my country in the traditions of what we were raised to believe in-defending the Constitution of the United States, as did every other vet sitting wall to wall in the evaluation area of the VA. I had no combat story to tell, and nothing to relate to the others who lost so much in Viet Nam. I was ashamed to be there-it was like I was stealing.

If records were available they would show that my being treated at the VA was short lived-just at that time when rushed there-where I learned that I was impacted-and it was not until years later, I am almost positive it was after my stroke in 1998-I had no choice but to return.

Still my guilt persisted-and eventually my fear began.

I have ‘voices’! Literally hearing a voice called Chet telling me what I think is an old dead New Jersey Jewish guy named Zim (I am very serious about this) and I get ‘guidance’ or advice or criticism’s from Chet relaying what Zim is saying. Complicated? Be me! Any definition, I keep hearing the threats of what will happen to me there-and frankly, I believe them! I believe that I am in the way and an interference, as mentioned- a thief, stealing from those who legitimately injured-legitimately deserve the medical care, and that one day a ‘message’ will pop up on their computer screen and I will pop up as designated for the ‘shot’ or the ‘pill’ that will put me under-and as Myst said in her comment-put me back on the other side of the locked door!

How can I trust them? After all-as a 17 year old kid I trusted them-the US Military-the defender of nations-I trusted them and when I was thrown into the brig for NOTHING and hurt in the way that I was and for as long as I have been, no one came to my defense and aid! There was not one moment of care…so, why should I trust being safe in the Veterans Hospital? How can I trust?

Trust was stolen from me then in 1969 at barracks D!

They can do that-as Myst said-lock you on the other side of the wire! Once at a VA regular check up I was asked if I ever had thoughts of suicide? I answered YES just about every day! And the doctor asked me when my last thought was? I told her minutes ago in the waiting room-that likely was my last! Well-the shit hit the fan and right then I was told she could and should call the VA police…what are they going to do? Lock you up! I begged and cringed then saying that thoughts of suicide were practically typical for any day but that the love of God keeps me from doing so…it is stealing from God! This-by the way-from the same clinic where the nurse told me (later understanding she was joking) that we all were dying from a sexual transmitted disease…telling me this made my mind go into “do I have a STD?” with Chet whispering and muddling all real true sense of what she was saying…..” sex dummy!”…”don’t you have a sense of humor?”…”it was a joke”…”get it-we are all dying from a sexually transmitted disease-SEX”!! “har har” “lol” “hardy-har-har”….like trusting the VA to appeal for disability because of my PTSD and ‘trusting’ once again go to the DVA and tell a man I never met before in my life that I was raped repeatedly in the brig while in the USN….and he responds with some philosophy about “it is amazing to think homosexuals have a need to rape each other”!!??

So-I appreciate what Myst wrote in her comment, I see that I am not the only one who fears the VA environment!

Peace

 

 

this…

October 7, 2012

General charged with sodomy

An Army brigadier general who served five combat tours in Iraq and Afghanistan has been charged with forcible sodomy, multiple counts of adultery and having inappropriate relationships with several female subordinates, two U.S. defense officials said Wednesday. The officials spoke on condition of anonymity because they were not authorized to provide details on the case.

Brig. Gen. Jeffrey A. Sinclair faces possible courts-martial. Sinclair, who served as deputy commander in charge of logistics and support for the 82nd Airborne Division in Afghanistan, was sent home in May because of the allegations, the officials said. The 82nd is based at Ft. Bragg, N.C.

Sinclair was informed of the charges Monday but has not been placed under arrest. The next step will be an Article 32 investigation, including a preliminary hearing to determine whether the matter should go to trial. No date has been set.

I have lost a c…

October 5, 2012

I have lost a certain momentum since I returned home from my trip on the freighter. Not a loss because of laziness, or lack of interest-but from being stunned.

I can’t say this is good-or bad. I suppose maybe…awakening? It was very hypnotic, this is for sure, but the lulling way the sea caps call your attention are not just the sole reason I describe my self as being stunned!

People mistake this trip as a cruise! I get introduced to someone with the fact given that I spent three months on the open sea-“on a cruise”…but the reaction I receive has made it a must to exchange what the listener is thinking…ah.Princess Cruise ships; dances and gambling and three huge malls (do they have malls on cruise ships?) and exotic places across the globe.

First of all-I would never find myself on a ship with 3000 other folks-or even 300! A floating island of bars and casino’s, no thanks!

I went on the freighter-actually known as a ‘container ship’ (carrying the enclosed boxes of semi trailers) on my first trip to confront the package of issues that stall my daily life. I did know the crew would be a limited number of crew-I also knew that if any other passengers were aboard, there would only be three more. The entire population of the ship on my second trip was 23, this on a ship loaded with nearly 6000 semi trailer containers; a very large ship.

I had no idea the extent of what would be! I surely had not really thought in total of the size of the ships house-including the hull of the ship from the highest point of the house was at least equal to a 20 story building. I had not really even thought-but as the working day went on, I was totally alone in this huge building. It was fascinatingly interesting-actually satisfying, to be free to roam the entire confines unrestricted and with out fear-it was as if the entire world was turned off, and this vessel was all the world there was to us!…and most of the time I was alone!

I also hoped to pretend myself at age 18 and seeing everything as brand new before it was all x’d up. I wanted to pretend myself on some huge navy ship, but I found better than pretending could do for me!

At home I cut my own hair and I am not any good at it-foggy right eye and not very bright-eyed in the other makes for a poor self barber. Domingo noticed this the night I went down to the crews salon (not a bar lounge-but more like a large living room) to introduce myself. It was his first question of me-“who cuts your hair?” as a matter of fact! So he offers his services as the ship’s barber to fix the apparent and certain mess of my head! We begin talking and he begins to learn I was alone in my life and that I had health issues. We did not elaborate on the health part-but this man became my instant friend!At trips end three months later we were all friends!

My friends were each one of these men! 18 from the Philippine Islands-including the Captain, and 5 Croatian officers. I have to say our friendships built out of respect-my respect for the crew and the ship, and their respect for me because they recognized mine. English is the International language on every ship at sea-but literally, conversations were very short, and sometimes the accent would interfere with understanding everything, but as I say-activity of each mans job made long-term conversation very limited…except, every soul recognizes a good heart, so we all knew.

Here I was able to forget about being me! To be silenced by language barrier for three months was golden. I found it actually difficult to have conversation when I first came home and then had realized I had not had much conversation for all that time! I had wanted to write-it was actually my plan to finish my book, but to be able to spend day after day seeing nothing but the open sky with the water alive all around us. We traveled one and a half months with only three stops-literally over night, and the rest was as I describe. The emptiness of  having no car or no town or no places like shops or stores or telephone or news or computer or everything you are used to doing every moment of your life is exchanged for this void-and along with it was the need to worry. It was the one place in the world that I knew for sure-there was nothing I could do about one dang thing!

I returned home in a trance! Slowly it is breaking away-finally, and yes it has lasted this long, as to be able to say everything about all that those three months showed me and did for me, and what it was like to be vacant from my life for those three months-there is not enough room on the computer screen to say it all.

Stunned? I am. It was like some other world. There was never one inch of any moment of feeling anything other than peace in the company of these men. Every day being greeted with huge smiles and faces who had expressions of happiness when they saw me! Each time I entered the salon was a time of being greeted with great affection-even in their most tired moments the men were always cheerful and polite despite the fatigue of the days, or the shortness of the moment-it did not matter. Think of this-each day the clock advances one hour which really twists the body’s clock around.

I returned home with that old seaman’s stare! I can not explain what it is like out there on the high sea’s-especially when so much time was spent seeing only the water and the sky. I don’t say the ‘stare’ is bad-it is more like being in a long deep thought

This was empowering! I was able to leave me on the docks in Savannah and with me all of the shit! I confronted so many of my fears-and trust me, there was no where to run if anything went wrong. Being silenced by the different languages allowed so much time for meditation, and prayer.

I wish that I go forever.

Peace