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  • TDS Moderators: AlphaMethylPhenyl | paranoid android

how are you in 1 word ?

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hvac5646 said:
I do need to talk this off my chest. Don't think I will sleep despite the Xanax unless I do.
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It definitely sounds like you would benefit from getting some more therapy. And not just one session to form a diagnosis, I'm talking like 10-15 sessions. I think it would be so helpful for you to do it. What do you think??

hvac5646 said:
If no body is listening, that's cool. I am doing this as a therapeutic exercise to get all the hostility out of me.
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No worries at all mate, that's what The Dark Side is here for! :)
However, may I suggest you start your own thread for post-war PTSD, because I know there are a few other vets here on Bluelight who could add to the discussion. Or perhaps you could keep a Blog? (there is a Blog section attached to your profile, it could be really useful for your situation, in addition to getting some therapy).

Good luck <3
 
panic in paradise said:
i am not an object - i can not sit here for another year like one - im ready to leave this shit

oh who the fuck gives an actual gives a damn
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Actual
Damn
(Don't say I never gave you anything!)
vql8v7.jpg


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Currently feeling: Cognizant, grateful, inspired.
11j5f6a.gif
I am having trouble at the moment placing words to the surreality of what is my life. As I have learned, life doesn't take place in a state of verbatim sequence of thought to action. What I can currently put into words is that someone just told me they were glad that I am still alive—something I have been hearing since I was 15 years old. Although I have heard it many times, by many different faces, those were all empty words to me up until recently. I never cared enough about my life to take into account that people actually said that they worried about me, because I didn't worry about my own life. Now that I care, it is although the whole world has been unveiled. Although it is a frightening thought in many ways, it is predominantly magnificent beyond comprehension.
 
Absolute shithouse.

I miss my friends, and I haven't the strength mentally or physically.

I ate some sketchy food. I am at my Dad's place with the television on. I need silence to sleep.

675 miles and 1 week, Mariposa. Suck it up. I had a cat throw up on me and I feel like my feline son did.

I am told to be strong. I won't yak or go into this personal aspect.

Time to sleep.
 
Scared

Ran out of gbl and the withdrawals are quickly kicking in, have some benzos to help but this time i dont think they'll be enough :(
 
Confused.

I cannot find my way around my home in California. I feel like a pet that needs a home, and I'm in my loft with three cats. Also stressed. I'm stuck here until the weather clears, and it does not appear that it will be doing that anytime soon. Of course, we're due for a major late winter storm over the weekend when I wanted to have fun, fun, fun on Friday. FML.
 
n3ophy7e said:
It definitely sounds like you would benefit from getting some more therapy. And not just one session to form a diagnosis, I'm talking like 10-15 sessions. I think it would be so helpful for you to do it. What do you think??


No worries at all mate, that's what The Dark Side is here for! :)
However, may I suggest you start your own thread for post-war PTSD, because I know there are a few other vets here on Bluelight who could add to the discussion. Or perhaps you could keep a Blog? (there is a Blog section attached to your profile, it could be really useful for your situation, in addition to getting some therapy).

Good luck <3
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Will do.
Still finding my way around, Just call me Forest Gump ...lolo; We got a lot in common. He needs a little guidance now and again. too.;)
 
Disapointed

I 'm confused as well . In the space of a few hours my mood has changed from happy n contententted 2 self loathing.
I've just used some H and W i didn't really want the W but 2 get the H i had to cop a ten stone.
I didn't even really want the H , well not this guys stuff , but i munipulated myself in2 thinking i did .
It really is a horrible feeling.
 
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