In about an hours time I talked to complete strangers about how to dress up a walking cane, about good books, about travel, movies, family, homelessness and trees, all of which was right after a therapy session. I talked to a woman about her time in Alaska, of course that lead to discussions of global warming. We talked about how expensive it is to go green. After that I talked to a man about his family reunions and about being from a family of 12 children with over a hundred relatives from his immediate family – all will be here this holiday season. After that I came home to my own chaos but that didn’t last very long because I chatted a bit with Barney who is feeling rather down about not getting a lot of Christmas cards this season. The entire time I spoke to these 4 different people I was aware of each and every thing around me, every sound, and every single solitary movement, theirs mine and things in my immediate environment. Continue reading ‘Hypervigilance and PTSD’
Monthly Archive for December, 2007
Page 3 of 6
Today does bring something different; it brings a calmer me to a table of idiots. It seems that since Thanksgiving the cab company has experienced a lot of fraud cases where people attempt to use Medicaid to pay for trips that Medicaid doesn’t pay for. I only got this information when I called to ask my therapist’s office why it is that they verified my appointment to the cab company without my permission to give out my name and the name of the doctor that I’m seeing. It seems that since November the cab company has experienced and influx of fraudulent cab rides, however, it doesn’t mean that every time an address shows up different that the rider is lying or cheating someone. Never does it justify calling a customer to call them a liar and a cheat. Continue reading ‘Cab Company Saga Continues’
I’m not a fucking liar and I don’t appreciate being treated like one. To call me three times asking me the address I went to is just crazy. I told the address the first time. The fact that the operator put in a different address is just crazy. I told her where I was going but somehow this falls back on me making me look like a fucking liar. I told them where I was going. I told her not to treat me like I was lying. She said she didn’t believe me and I did conceal information. I told the woman that it didn’t make sense to profit now only to be financially screwed later down the line. She said she didn’t believe me. I told her how could giving true information be withholding. She said I should have known something was amiss when they kept calling me. How? Amiss? Yeah, you called me about an address. I was to second guess why you’re calling me? You called me because your operator put in a different address than what as on the card. I gave the same information every single time, to the operator to the cab driver and to the supervisor that called me a liar. If there is a problem it doesn’t automatically translate into a lie. Continue reading ‘Im Not A Liar’
My city had a disaster response drill but few in the city were aware that their apartments would be destroyed by fire for the sake of timing the National Guard’s response. My old apartment as well as many of the high rises downtown (including those with Penthouse Suites) were destroyed from the 18th floor up. The next day against a sunrise you could see nothing but strong iron and a few planks where apartment dwellers use to be. They’d been cleaned as if a company came in to pick up their mess and finish off the drill. It was as simple as that then life went on.
I walked around down town in a daze trying to figure out why they’d blow up a person’s home like that. I walked around the city until I saw a suspicious character wanted on sexual assault charges. I called the police. They arrived but didn’t believe me until he walked up and put a knife in my stomach for having the nerve to report him. Continue reading ‘Dreams: No Emergency Response No Help Available Part 1′
The first thing I notice in this set of dreams is how the people in the dream, the city dwellers are toyed with. It didn’t matter who you were, what economic or racial background you came from you were in the hands of higher ups who screwed you over for their own war games. Homes were destroyed for the sake of a drill, it was unbelievable. We were pawns and it didn’t matter if we wanted to be in that game or not. I also noticed that no matter who needed help (always concerning sexual assault) no one would be there to answer their call. Even if a policeman was given the story he didn’t help and the person wasn’t apprehended until I was killed in front of them. An emergency plan was in place, an entire policing system existed but became limited by the phone lines to them being down. They could patrol but private homes invaded or those living with abusers couldn’t reach out for help. Even if they could, many times in last nights dreams the person asking for help wasn’t given any. They were not believed. Their story was too grandiose to believe. Continue reading ‘Dreams: No Emergency Response No Help Available Part 2′
| You Are An Attention Seeker |
 You’re only human, so you can’t help but want a little attention every now and then.You love the spotlight, but only when it’s well deserved. You’d hate to be known for the wrong thing.And you also don’t mind sharing the spotlight. You can easily give someone else credit or a complement.You know there’s enough attention to go around, and it makes you happy when your friends shine.You come across as: Friendly and interestingPeople may wrongly think you’re: A little more modest than you actually are! |
I know he didn’t just call me a whore! He doesn’t even know me. How can he pass judgment like that? That’s just wrong… name calling is wrong. You don’t even know me!!!
What Your Handwriting Says About You |
 You are a fairly energetic person. You know how do pace yourself, and you deal well with stress.You are somewhat outgoing, but you’re not a natural extrovert. You think first before you act. You tend to be independent, rational, and logical.You are balanced and grounded. You know how to get along well with others.You need a bit of space in your life, but you’re not a recluse. You expect people to give you a small amount of privacy, and you respect their privacy as well.You are somewhat traditional, but you are also open to change. You listen to your head and your heart. You are a poor communicator. No one really knows exactly what you’re getting at. |
What Does Your Handwriting Say About You?
Energetic, check. Pace myself well? Most of the time. Check. Not naturally out going. Check. Need space. Check. Check. Poor communicator? Check. I say that because in person I often stumble over my words, take things the wrong way. I communicate poorly in personal relationships. I hate you blogthings for being right so much. Nobody likes a know-it-all. I hope I communicated that well.
J of A
This morning when I woke up I had that all too familiar inner rage going on. All Captain had to do was pant too hard, rub up against me while passing. All Grace had to do was meow. She didn’t leave it there though. No, couldn’t do that. I walked to the table to have a breakfast of brownies and found a nice size upchuck load on the plate….grossed me the fuck out. What was she doing on my table in the first damn place? And why the brownies? Were they just the perfect place to leave a hair ball? First of all, she bites without provocation and is quite destructive, now THIS? She is soooo working on living in the streets. There’s nothing worse than cat vomit but on my table? That’s just fuckin’ nasty. What did Bella do? Bella, well, she can’t do much wrong just sleeping now can she? Probably. There’s no telling. I was raw angry so no matter what she did I was going to be annoyed by it. When I feel like that it’s my red flag to step back, take a deep breath and remember that the Three Stooges aren’t trying to irritate me. They’re doing the exact same thing they do on a daily basis (except toss their cookies on my table) that I usually handle quite well. Why is today different? It’s different because last night was different. Talking about Robert then him coming out later last evening had its fall out. It’s ugly here at home.
It was easier when we talked about how others inside dealt with the mother. We seem to handle those memories a lot better than Robert’s stuff.
I was truly pissed when they didn’t have a card for me. After I got finished ranting about it they told me it was because once Robert’s name was written on a card the whole thing changed. My name and other names didn’t get written down because his did. We freak out when we think of him, when we can feel him around we just freak out….then we’re pissed, big time. I still have no idea what it is about this therapist that makes him want to come to therapy. I hate this.
Raw Anger-Tuesday, December 18, 2007-6:19PM EST
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