A box. Now imagine each and every one of your most painful moments of your adult life packed into that box. Well for me that box is tucked away in the deepest darkest part of my brain. Those thoughts are occasionally the ones that interrupt a beautiful dinner with your wife, the thoughts that cause us to impulsively and without warning blindside you with past issues that were shelved to the side in the name disbelief and denial. I dread falling asleep every night especially a night when you go to bed fighting with your spouse, taking the stress of the day with you etc. I dread going to sleep because sometimes…sometimes that box figures out a way to like a ninja let those thoughts out while your asleep.

Surgery. Surgery is something that most of us will experience at one point or another during our lives. Horror. The thought of being given anesthesia that is half way effective. You’re “under” the knife, but you cannot speak…you can scream, but no one can hear you, but you can feel each and every cut…you can feel the entire surgery consciously. Hells waiting room is worse by 100 fold. Being stuck in hells waiting room is no different than being conscious during a major surgery. At times your trapped in there for 6-8 hours…sometimes 2 hours (usually the ones that wake you if you’re a spouse reading this)  it depends on the stress level you are falling asleep to. Sadly that is nearly every day of the week. This past night I was trapped in that fucking place for nearly 7 hours. 7 hours reliving pure hell on earth. Hell that you should not to consciously feel. Waking with immediate self hate and loathing is a toxic cocktail. This morning was the most traumatic night of sleep I think I have ever have. You feel every bit of pain, you cry real tears as you sleep and feel them in your dream, you feel every sense of betrayal weather fictitious or factual. You’re forced to face the reality of everything you put to the side every day while your awake so you don’t end up like me crying for hours and hours with self distain. You always hear the phrase “Give no fucks” like many phrases it was commercialized and a common phrase now socially. But what happens when you really “give no fucks” because you were forced to deal with all that horror in one night. How do I today even think of anything rational when I was under duress in my own mind to face my demons face to face consciously. When you look at the trail of destruction you have caused after coming home from the war it weighs on you like a 10-ton boulder on your shoulders. You can say you’ve pretty much ruined lives, you’ve displaced people…family, and you’ve hurt your children and spouse. In return you’ve either lost them or are about to. The fact is your consciousness is tied to a chair with titanium bands in that box inside your brain, The heat that must be the inferno that is hell is somehow scorching your every thought. If this is hells waiting room I cannot imagine what it’s like once they call you in. How do I know? I was there this morning for 7 hours. My life and view of myself are incredibly different than yesterday. How do you get past the thought that you’ve let your family down and failed them? You can’t….

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