How I Got Here (Part 3)

So, first I’d like to apologize for the extended space between postings.  I’ve been trying my best to cope with the thyroid issues, prep for a supplemental disability hearing next month, and just keep myself in one piece (anxiety has a way of pulling me in directions I don’t want to go).

Today, we have to backup in time a little.  In my last post, I began telling of the beginnings of my physical health issues.  However, my mental health was also undergoing a change.  The ordeal my father caused when I was thirteen left a mark called PTSD (Post Traumatic Stress Disorder).  My father’s gene pool is rich with genetically linked depression…that thirteen year old kid, situational issues, and puberty made sure that I would fight this demon the rest of my life.  For whatever reason, be it the generation (the 80’s) or decisions by my guardians, neither myself or my siblings ever received “any” type of therapy.  We were simply expected to just carry on like nothing ever happened.  Two of us would come out as strong self-sufficient adults…the other two would constantly blame others (the world) for their problems.

In order to collect any items I wanted from our house, I had to make a visit.  To this day, I can still smell the pungent “aroma” of tear gas, I can see the pool of blood under the table where my mother hid as she bled to death, I can see the bullet holes in the bathroom door and ceramic tiles on the opposite wall.  It plays in my head like a movie.  No, I wasn’t there when the event happened…but it’s not difficult for my mind to reconstruct the film footage.

We’re going to add one more item to the mix…Attention Deficit Disorder (now would be AADD for Adult Attention Deficit Disorder).  The best I can figure (based on the behavior of some of my family members), this little beast came from my mom’s side of the family.  They have the same tendency I do for starting a project…getting distracted…and never making it back around to finish what they started.  For those of you who have seen the movie “Up”, I’m the dog named Doug.  I use a term from the movie to describe when I get sidetracked, distracted, etc.  …”Squirrel!!”

So…you have at this point we have physical decline happening, depression, ADD, and PTSD at this point.  I’ll let you in on that physical issue here shortly.  There’s more back story that needs to be established before that ailment is defined.

Until next time…God bless.

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