Poopoo happens

Listening to some Eddie Boyd, Lafayette Thomas and Curtis Jones, some seriously cool R&B. I have a TBI that gives me headaches, Post Traumatic Headache Syndrome  is what the Doctors call it. Chronic pain. I’m also a Soldier, or I was until 6 weeks ago. 20 + years down the drain.

I usually have headaches (HA) day in and day out. And they’re never the same. It’s next to impossible to find a job and make the money I’d like to earn. My HA makes my memory cells short circuit or something. I did an interview for a job I knew like the back of my hand, it’s what I did for years and answered like a moron.

Needless to say, I didn’t get the job. I know something but it takes awhile. Not what they’re looking for. I don’t want to do this anymore. I’m sure my children will freak out. I have a shaky relation with the five of them, to say the least.  I have a solid plan. I’m not a good a writer as some of these people here, just me.

I’m tired of the fighting. Fighting to find a job. Fighting with the old lady because she’s my ol lady and I love to hate her while I hate that i love her. She has a step son who’s not my favorite person. My insurance does pay out for suicide but I can’t see him getting his grimy little hands on it. That’s why it’s going to my sisters.

I’m not upset, I’m resigned to the fact. This HA now is 58 straight days. The ringing in my right ear puts everything lob sided. It’s the kind of pain with the dizziness that brings up the nausea. These are the things that are constant. Most of my mental energy  I use to deal with the pain, attempt to make a flat pond, calm. Then someone comes along and says something and tosses a pebble into my Pond, causing ripples. I get angry, very angry and lash out at the person who came into my finely crafted and controlled  world.

Don’t wear perfume or cologne. That sets the pain off. Phantom smell do, too. And I’ll vomit. Could be anywhere. Embarrassing. Difficult time being around people because of that.

Also have a shock injury to my lower back and neck vertebras. More chronic pain. The Army in their infinite wisdom put me on some seriously strong meds to help curb the pain. The morphine 60mg/day took the edge off, I guess but what it really did was make it so I don’t care if I hurt and opiates and TBI’s don’t mix.  Took it everyday for a long time.

Anyway, I came off the Morphine, took about three weeks. I see my fellow veterans that are really messed up and here I’m whining. I don’t deserve to be with them. I feel like I’m a fraud. I don’t have the right. I did my assigned mission and I got hurt. They lost limbs, eyes, serious bloody head wounds. All well deserved.

Doesn’t matter I was sitting in the middle of the desert being told nothing was going to happen, knowing the guard force would sleep, would have their weapons and ammo snatched while they were busy sleeping, errrrr, guarding us. Command never did much but mass punishment.

My soldiers built our defenses under my direction. The other two shifts would stick their knives into the sandbag bunkers we had build and let the sand out, caving the wall in. And my Soldiers got in trouble along with the other two shifts. We built them and my soldiers never were caught sleeping, never had there weapons snatched, never had their ammo highjacked but always got into trouble because the other guard patrols did, constantly.

I’m sick. I’m sick and tired. I see no value in going on with my life. I have a plan. It’ll be easy for me. No one will understand. It’s just not worth it to me to keep going like this. There is no cure. Thanks for listening. I’m gonna be off now.

Deuces