So much pain

So much pain it is hard to stand, think, or even see straight

So much pain it is practically consuming my entire being

So much pain and so few ways out

So much pain I know it won’t, but I just want it to end

So much pain I almost cannot stand to be at work, yet I cannot afford not to be

So much pain I have to eat light snacks because a meal will only come back to haunt me

So much pain I find it hard to continue to breathe

So much pain I would not wish it upon the most evil, sinister, wicked person we all can think of

So much pain it hurts to sit, it hurts to stand

So much pain with no end or solution in sight

So much pain I am losing weight, what little muscle mass and strength along with it

So much pain I can never be what I would like, nor the man I once was

So much pain it is difficult at best to sleep, occasionally it is so much I simply pass out

So much pain I sincerely hope no one ever understands


absentee demons

Brillant! We all have our inner struggles. To this one I can relate all too well to some things said of the pirahna, as well as relate to the authors point of view. So confusing that it almost seems simple.

my delusions


I’m having another episode.

I’m never sure what to do when this happens, and at first I tend to respond by thrashing wildly.

Grasping at nearby surfaces as I plummet, only to watch them loosen and break too.

Far better once I recognize the hopelessness of struggle, as at least I can leave off bringing other objects down with me.

Far better once I surrender to the knowledge that my own strength has failed.

The descent is predictably horrible and long. It happens as if in slow-motion, while I whisper and plead, “Not this far. Please not this far.”

But yes, darling, yes. We’re going this far. I’m so very sorry.

It’s not difficult for me to decipher the elements that conspired to bring me down this time.

If there even were any.

Perhaps it’s not even like that. Perhaps just every so often, I simply miss a step, and it’s…

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The cell inside my mind

The cell I live in is in my mind, where I reside, where I hide

For when the past comes here to stay, I fold away, I hide inside

This cell is dank, its walls sweat blood, its ceiling crushes from above

The floor is wet, the stench is sweat, this place is lacking warmth, and love

I built this place with my own hand, the reason for to lock away

The light of the day

And darkness reigns in this foul place, the flashbacks come, the nightmares stay

For when the past comes round to call, my cell hides me from the truth

It shelters me from all that hate; it is my only covering roof

And though to all I seem brash and bold, my outer skin seems hard and cold

Reality is a different thing, I feel so weak, so used,

So old

I’ll tell you how this came about, although I really have no doubt,

That you already know,

Because like me you have this room, the place to go, where you can shout,

It came about as I am weak, a person plagued by simple thoughts,

That are not so simple anymore, they squirm and toss, a hate, of sorts

And when I close my eyes so tight, I see again the shattered forms,

Of burning buildings, burning men, in bloody lightning storms.

Of screaming children, arms and legs, just lying there, the dawn to find,

Of shattered lives, of shattered minds, of shattered hopes, from my own kind

And so my cell protects me from this scene, but in itself provides a place,

Where torture rules, the stinging whip, the tears of blood run down my face,

For in my mind, I built this place.

The bricks are molded from my hate, and kiln-fired in the fire of life.

The mortar mixed from fear of death, and watered down with tears, and strife.

So course by course, as the years went by, I built this cell

I learned to cry.

And when at last my time does come, when I lie down, to wilt and die,

Then this fine shelter will collapse, fall over and be turned to dust.

For all my fears will go with me, my legacy of brick and rust.

My spirit then will fly so free, the past not there to trouble me.

I hope.

And so I say these things, to fellows who have lived like me,

To you who’s anguish rules your lives, fear not,

For someday we’ll be free

4 days in the psyche ward

Go ahead jump to you own conclusion if you want, or insert snide comment as desired. I know going to my local VA hospital in Portland Wednesday night/ Thursday morning was a smart decision on my part. If you couldn’t tell from some of my most recent posts things have been getting the better of me, to say the least. Dealing with my chronic pain for 12 years now on top of my PTSD and other issues has had its fair share of up and downs. Only one other time since then would I say I was suicidal, and that was a little over 2 years ago and I started seeing a psychiatrist at the Vet Center. My primary doctor at the VA also gave me sertraline, which for the first couple weeks anyone who knew me called “my happy pills.” This time was a little different in that I actually had a plan and a couple of prime spots to jump from. I had chatted numerous times with the veterans crisis line before, but this time on wednesday was the first time they actually recommended I went in.


It was either that or that other option may have been too tempting. I felt as if one more thing occurred it might be enough for me to say heck with it, so I went in. After arriving at about 4 am thursday, I had a short meeting with a couple of people that worked on the ward.  Upon completion they showed me to my room, in which I laid the immense amount of time that was left until the 6 am wake up call telling everyone the large day room was open and we could get some coffee or hot chocolate and watch the news. There I drank my coffee and awaited with baited breath the wonderful breakfast in which I partook at about 7:30 am. Then it was hurry up and wait some more for the doctors to come in. Around 9:30 I was called into a conference room with about 4-6 people were sitting around a conference table awaiting my entry. After quite a few questions and conversation we seemed to have a direction to help make things better for me, both mentally and physically. They were surprised to learn I had never been seen at the NW pain clinic, where they actually specialize in helping people with chronic pain. I had a short consult before being discharged from the hospital, and will have an appointment with them within the next 30 days.

The rest of my days, except saturday and sunday were filled with groups, some wii playing, one long walk( I wanted to get out, but my legs told me don’t do that again dummy), and lots of news and a few mind numbing movies. I left the hospital on Monday shortly after lunch. It was the best decision I have made for myself in awhile, and like I told my favorite nurse Leonard, I hope to not go back but I know where they are if I need them again.