Oh, Sailaway ... I know the feeling. You're tough. You've learned how to box up those memories. Learning about PTSD and its effects now is of great value to you so you know what's going on. I didn't know the cause of my behavior and misbehavior and thought always that I was just out of control.

*JME, but boxing up those feelings will continue to bite your *** every night and day of your life...facing them is not easy but has to be done. Period.
Forgiving yourself for past actions is of paramount importance. At any given time, we did the best we could.
I did some downright crappy things when I was deep into my drug and alcohol addictions. My heart fills with sorrow at some of them but the shame and guilt no longer controls me.

Maybe your T. can advise you on what to do when that rage erupts, tell you how to calm yourself and recover from the adrenelin that flows and the freight that accompanies the unexplained anger.

**Yeah, we get to learn "techniques" for handling this crap. Works most of the time for me; other times, I've cold cocked someone who came up behind me. In a store. He did not press charges...
However, they work most of the time. Jme, it started off slow then I started feeling stronger and less hyper-vigilant. It took time, man. That four letter word that I equate with the **** word.

Maybe your T. can help you head off the alcohol and drug addiction that are so attractive in our trying to block memories or redirect our thinking.

**They give you tools and you decide if you are going to use them...
**I got tired of carrying that sack of guilt/shame garbage on my back...from childhood trauma to the war.
Damn tired. Damn desperate. Dam Bursting With Pent Up Crap.

Maybe your T. can show you how to reconnect with others, how to learn to trust them, how to let them get close to you, how to avoid cutting off all friendships because being close to someone means more pain for you when they leave or something happens to them.

**Standing with you on this one. I had to learn how to trust again, love again, want to be loved...and understand that folks were going to come in and out of my life--and it was no reflection on me. Life happens...

Maybe your T. can tell you how to remain connected when in conversation with others so you can pay attention to what they are saying and not wondering about things past as they talk on and on about the most inconsequential things.

**jme, again...until I did the demon destruction thing, nothing was important to me except those demons. they ruled my life, every minute of my life. I could not see beyond them and understand that others had important things in their lives.
God, I used to listen to people talk and think, FU, you don't know crap...and that was on a good day.

Maybe your T. can help you avoid the other addictions that are waiting for you just around the corner, things you would declare are impossible today but things that creep into your psyche and try to control you.

**we learn, we learn.
I can do anything for ten minutes that would PO me if I had to do it for 24 hours...taking it ten minutes at a time is what got me through detox and my first year.
It gets me through now when a brick wall busts my brass ones. By grace, it's gotten me through the last 26 years...

Maybe your T. can help you overcome feeling like a creep as you reveal your innermost self to others and tell the secrets that haunt you.
**tell them to the right folks and there will be no condemnation and no judgment. whether it's a therapist, fellow survivor, or peer support...

Maybe your T. can help you overcome the feeling of guilt for what you've done and for what has been done to you....and for how you've hurt others either through actions or through mistakes.

**my childhood trauma was the first thing I had to tackle. I didn't live with my parents until I was nearly 12...my father stayed in the Army after the war because of the local economy...I saw him every six months. I didn't understand that one of the women in that hell hole was my mother...I called her by her first name until we left there. She refused to stay there when he got orders for Germany the first time.
**No one in that hell hole tried to protect me from my abuser. when I went to The Grandmother, I was told if I weren't such a bad little girl he would not do it to me. Not one nun ever comforted me when I came to school bleeding/bruised/couldn't sit down.
**that crap had to come out before I could address the PTSD from Nam.
**so many people used to picture all the nurses in pure white unnies, and white hose, and hair tidy, legs and armpits shaved, and Smelling Good.
**yeah right. try in country where the water (shudder) tasted like panther pee, ya shaved only your armpits for the wounded--we didn't want to reach over them for something and they would see hairy pits... on your feet for 12-?? hours in the OR and having cramps and needing to pee so damn bad your bladder was spasming...mad dash to anywhere you could squat to take that pee and cry.
**triage. "Lt., take care of my buddy first. He's lots worse than me." not with your guts spilling out, sweetie, so you are next. JC, he's about 19...
**"Am I gonna die? Can I touch your hair cause it reminds me of my girl?" Oh God, how bad does it smell of sweat? Not that he noticed...he was back in the arms of his girl.

Maybe your T. can help you accept it when others think highly of you while you know deep inside that you don't deserved it.

**survivors guilt hits us in many ways from many things. we can also become abusers in words or actions or both. Part of it...but our "power" can be reclaimed when we get honesty and get the ****ing crap out of us.
**deep inside where we keep our secrets? everyone in this world has secrets, not all of them are like ours and we should recognize that difference. it does not mean we are any worse of a human being because of ours...
**one of mine for a very long time was killing a man. shot him in the face when he was about 10 feet from me...doing our little jaunt to the hamlet to feed and suture and tsk-tsk over the babies...four of 'em came at us. driver dead, thank God for sidearms and a medic coming along at the last minute or I'd be dead, too. when we returned I went straight to the Sgt that gave me his personal sidearm cause he didn't like Army issue crap...no way could I ever thank him enough. he got home
**I saw his face up close. he was as young as our guys and just as scared and we saw the fear in each others eyes...my weapon was better than his...bye bye gook/bastard/son of a mother who will never know/husband? daddy?/brother?
I killed you. I took life from you when I swore to keep life precious and protect...ah hell, what does it matter. the sob is dead and has been for a very long time.

Thank you for your service. *tears