Bad cats in sombreros

Trauma

Some people wonder why I specialized in Trauma and Addiction specifically, not that I’m not trained in other problems with the human psyche. As I learned more and more about psychology, I found trauma to be a puzzling subject. Trauma sounds bad at first, if someone suffered Trauma, well shit it must’ve been something bad. But this isn’t true at all. Some of the greatest trauma in our life can be caused by great things, it doesn’t mean it’ll cause a mental disorder or nervous breakdown, but it will be traumatic.

Marriage is a good example, generally you’re glad to be getting married and happy, but it’s traumatizing suddenly spending your life with someone forever(well…) even if you want to and love them dearly. But dear god, you’re psyche just took a big hit. Hell, maybe that traumatic event is such a happy moment, it helps you with some depression you might be feeling.

With many things in psychology, there is much that is predictable, but never set in stone. Trauma is a good example, a traumatic event sounds bad, but it could be a blessing.

So if you ever take the time to think on your own personal brain demons, think about what they’ve done for you. Some normally bad problems might have helped in certain situations, some great things might’ve screwed you over. When you think about whatever problems that lurk in your mind, self-esteem, depression, anxiety, anger; It’s easy to beat yourself up or make yourself feel worse about those things, so try, just once to think of a positive of them.

I suffered anxiety and depression as a teenager, like many, and god depression is terrible as is anxiety, but it did steer my life in a direction I’m happy with. I started getting interested in my own disorders and in the end psychiatry. Maybe some days feeling depressed you work on something you love to make you feel better. Something that could lead to a new direction.

I know anxiety lead me to not getting laid and in the end, uh, now I can build my own computer and troubleshoot it. yeah…. positive

FUCK SHIT DAMNIT I still can’t stress how much thinking in anyway but negatively about yourself only hurts more.

seriously though building computers when I coulda been bangin Emma Mitchel damnit

(just to be clear I am not refering to neurological disabilities of dysfunctions, this is geared to the average person)

I’m ashamed of my father’s anger pt. 2

I like being calm, nice, friendly, funny and it’s not fun to be angry or mean, but the thing about rage. It’s like depression, mania, or any other mood swing, it does pull you, it kicks your ass out the door into a car and drives you where it wants you to go.

Can’t work it out of me, that’ll just get the adrenaline flowing even faster, can’t talk it out because there isn’t anything vocal about rage. So the way to work it out is to write out what you feel while the feelings are happening. Right now I’m so enraged I would without a doubt hurt someone if they crossed me in person, I don’t say that litely or to brag I’ve been training Martial Arts over 16 years now and Its got to the point I could tell you 3 different styles of attack with a knife from three different systems.

That scares me, as it should, knowledge is power and can be dangerous. I’m beginning to calm now, I hope anyone who took the time to read any or all of this come to understand why I wrote this during and not after. The way I’m writing, inflections, or style can describe my feelings in ways I can’t vocalize or write out, but also you can see inside the mind of a man not consumed by rage. No, someone on the edge who stepped back, can you wonder how close I got to jumping? More importantly what would I have done if I jumped, hurt someone, killed, maimed, maybe I would do something unexpected to calm down.

Blah blah conclusions, this was a long winded way of saying someone made me mad and I came close to full on physical action, trashing something or finding an excuse to hurt someone unrelated. Who knows, do you know what you would do in a moment like that?

I do, because my dad was an a bastard who showed me often

I’m ashamed of my father’s anger pt. 1

I don’t get angry or want to hurt me often, I’ve gone through almost a decade of school on how to heal and understand the human creature. But my father, had an anger, he was a sad and lonely man surrounded by friends and loved ones, his life was cut short because of his arrogance when I was 12. He left no life insurance, no money, nothing to help when he left.

At the time my family was myself, my older sister, and my mother, an elementary special education teacher in Kingwood, TX. In the neighboring towns of Eagle Lake and Cypress, lived my mothers two sisters, one a occupational therapist, the other a speech therapist, both working independently. These four women raised me, even my sister who would beat me senseless until I hit a growth spurt, helped in her own way.

My mother knew she couldn’t support us financially for long on her salary, this led her to start having anxiety attacks and sink into depression, so bad she was afraid to drive for 6 months. But she pulled through, went back to work, enrolled to get her masters plus extra credits to max out the pay scale before doctorate of her position. Then she even went further, she transitioned to a learning disability consultant to help support us more.

When I left Kingwood around 15, I understood why and was happy, my father had been an executive in Marketing for Valero oil. He made a impressive amount of money, that he did not feel to leave us any for his sudden death. No if ands or butts, a teachers salary, no matter how high on the pay grade won’t ever get close to oil exec. So we moved closer to her mother and father in New Jersey.

I transitioned well, my sister was more rebellious, but somehow my mother was able to curtail us, buy a moderate sized house, get us into a great school district, and get a job in under 6 months(she still has the same job today!). I feel she suffered worst of all of us, worked nail to bone without asking for a dime all while, like typical teenagers, we brush it off as just working a little harder. When I entered Med school and my sister UMASS, I think it finally hit us, because she was paying for our education.

It blows my mind how much she must have had to sacrifice to do all that AND pay for higher education for her kids, while still making only slightly more than a teacher of equal years. Then come home everyday, look us in the eyes, smile, and happily waste time listening to us talk about inane teenage angst or buying a car.

So today, when someone said I was misogynistic, I barely stopped myself from destroying everything nearby in rage and this person. Especially this person, who in my mind, I was trying to be nice to from the day I met, like everyone I meet. Now I am crass, but anyone who knows me more than a week will see it’s equal opportunity. I call both genders asscock holes or dick gobling knockers, usually as a greeting.

When she said this, it felt like she had personally said I didn’t respect my mother, my aunts, my sister, all the women who raised me, fed me, clothed me without asking for a thing. That’s when I remembered I inherited a few things from my father, that happens to be his rage. He got angry and lashed out, hard at me as a child, screaming, insulting, using his belt, it was never his anger that scared me it was his rage and how quick he could change from Jekyll to Hyde.

I felt that one other time in my life, my step-father called my sister and myself quite a few indecent names that really offended. I took his arm behind his back and broke it at the elbow. At this time I had been studying martial arts for 10 years I think. This got me thrown out of my own home and taught me a good lesson on anger.

I didn’t realize until I felt that again today, it’s not me it’s my fathers, it’s in me, she dared say I don’t respect the people who sacrificed almost their lives so that I could go and make a tumblr post about it?? I wanted to not punch, not kick, but grab someone and break their whole pieces into many. Completely crush a person into something human, alive, but never-to-be-fixed broken.

I’ll finish this tonight, I need a break

Note to self:

Figure out how the hell notes work god damnit tumblr