Inexperienced Junkie

When I got out of the service my life was basically in shambles. If I could fast-forward to what I’ve become today when I first got out of the Army, I’d probably be pretty shocked. Life in general seemed pretty hopeless. I didn’t have a well-structured support system, I didn’t have any friends or really anyone I could turn to. I suppose I’ve droned on about this plenty of times throughout my past blog entries…

Today was one of my more successful days. If you have no idea what I do for a living or you’re reading this blog for the first time, I’m involved in retail security. I’m not sure why I’ve let myself get so deep into this career field especially when there are way more better paying jobs out there. Anyway. It’s what I do. It’s not very rewarding, the pay sucks, the hours suck even worse and I’m dealing with the worst of the worst on many occasions. You know, people who just don’t give a fuck.

There are times when the job is very interesting and exciting though. Early morning surveillance or long-drawn out investigative scenarios where we end up busting someone trying to rip the company off for like, thousands of dollars. Some times the job can be very rewarding. Generally it’s not, though. In fact, in most cases it’s extremely boring and dull. And I often find myself questioning my own motivation, my own willingness to see some of these criminal cases through or even if I have the energy to continue working in this field. Sometimes I feel like I’m wasting my time. Like, the other day. Here I am, a grown man, sitting outside a fitting room in the juniors department of the store waiting on a shoplifter to emerge. People stare at me..you know, like I’m some pervert.

So back to today, right? When things are going extremely smooth in my life whether it be with my love life or with my career, something else always has to emerge and start screwing with my happiness and routine. I left one company to go work for another retail company for more pay and more experience. That’s what I thought would be a good move in my life. It’s always important to gain as much experience as you possibly can to enhance your resume and project yourself into the working world to stay valuable and relevant to employers. I’ve always had a drive to work my way up the corporate ladder and eventually be “the man”.

The company I left has now called. They want me back. But not for a low man on the totem pole position. They want me to be the man. At this point, my life couldn’t get any brighter. These phone calls aren’t always going to present themselves. These opportunities aren’t always going to fall into your lap. It’s not every day someone gets a phone call saying “hey, we’d like to promote you even though you left us for a competitor.” I mean, are you fucking serious?!

I don’t put a lot of stock into my accomplishments. I really don’t hold a lot of self value and confidence. I’m always worrying about what others thing of me and if I’m fucking up or not. And when people don’t tell me I’m not fucking up, I’m constantly thinking I am fucking up but they’re just too afraid to tell me so. Does that make sense? I’d like to think I’m doing a good job at work but I have this constant nagging feeling that people aren’t pleased with my work. Like, they aren’t really appreciative of what I’m doing. Like, I’m lacking. It’s frustrating to feel this way and it’s not very motivating sometimes. Am I doing the right thing? Am I doing the job they’re paying me to do? Am I doing a good enough job to warrant this kind of pay? Am I failing?

But I just keep smiling. I just keep smiling.

Well, they must’ve seen me coming, ain’t this life so fucking great!

imagesCA271MW2

Advertisements

Smashed Hats and Boogey Men

When I entered the country of Iraq in March of 2005, I didn’t feel any different as a person. But I could tell my senses were changing. It’s like, going into a dark room and immediately your ears perk up and your sense of smell becomes amazing. That’s kind of how I felt. And that night, when I curled up on my little cot in the soft tent next to 15 other brothers, I woke up half way through the night rolling off my cot and hitting the floor. I couldn’t tell you what I was thinking at the time except I was probably going to fucking die.

“Hey, man! What the fuck is going on?!” I said weakly as I reached up and grabbed my battle buddy.

“…It’s just out-going. Go back to sleep, dude.” he mumbled as he turned over and went back to sleep.

“…fuck…” I said as I let out a sign of relief.

The artillery compound was about 500 feet from our location on the back side of the chicken factory. And they’d do missions all hours of the night and day. Launching round after round.

I felt something happen that night, though. I felt kind of jolt to my system when all that was happening. I can’t really explain it. The nights to come would never be the same.

The first time I woke up with a night terror was a month or two later, still in country, I witnessed a german soldier charging at me while I was on my bunk, with a red-eyed Doberman or german shepherd salivating at the mouth. The dog was relentless. It literally scared the shit out of me and I had no way to access a light switch. I scooted as far away from it as possible, back against the wall, and I just stared at it. I wasn’t sure if it was real or not. But it freaked me the fuck out.

When I got home from Iraq, the night terrors raged on. I witnessed a lobster crawling around on the floor, upside down, with giant rats eating at it and crawling after me. The worst night terror I had was a huge boa constrictor in my bed, coiled around my arm. I was yelling for help and all my roommate, at the time, could do was bang on my door asking if I wanted him to call CQ. When I snapped out of it, I was beside myself. I answered the door and told him what had happened and his first question was if I were on drugs.

Drugs? Seriously? Well, it was a valid question, perhaps.

In an attempt to not bore you with frivolous details of every single night terror attack, I’ll continue to explain things the best I can. Or at least how I’ve felt or been feeling about them. Since 2006 when I got back from Iraq, I’ve had night terrors ever since. I’ve been evaluated by doctors and I’ve seen my fair share of therapists about them. Most nights I’m afraid to sleep. Most nights I’m afraid to close my eyes. I remember a few times I’ve literally forced myself to stay away for 72 hours because I was so fucking sick and tired of waking up every two hours to some boogeyman asshole creeping around my bedroom. It’s insane! It’s insane to have to deal with this shit.

Since I’ve been out of the military, I remember plenty of times while living in my car, I’ve started up my car, placed it in drive and drove around town like I was in Iraq. Literally, while dreaming, somehow I drove my fucking car around town. When I finally “woke up” and realized what was happening, I just broke down in tears. I think back on those moments, you know. Driving my car while in a dream-like stage..how scary and dangerous. I’m lucky I didn’t drive through a red light or something and get wasted in an intersection. Although, at that point in my life, I’d be doing myself a favor if that happened.

I recently shacked up in this tiny little studio apartment in Seattle. It’s not much but it’s about all I need. I figured night terrors come when things are most unstable in my life. Wrong. Even with getting an apartment and having a nice cozy place to sleep night after night, these night terror motherfuckers just won’t stay away! I keep a Mossberg Classic 88 shotgun under my bed for safe keeping, right? Because I’m not some liberal anti-gun hippie-faggot! I love my guns, okay? Just kidding about the faggot part, folks. I think gays are wonderful human beings. Anyway.

Alright, so I keep this beast of a firearm under my bed, right? And what scared me the most about night terrors, and even though you’re reading this, don’t get all teary-eyed, sentimental, cry-baby bullshit on me, okay? Seriously. I’m fine. Alright so..I wake up in the middle of the night, and I see this figure trying to steal my television set. Now this figure has been in my apartment for a couple of nights now trying to steal shit. I got really scared and held my breath like a little kid hoping it wouldn’t see me in my bed the first time it came around and then I realized it was a night terror as it came around more often. Finally, I reached under my bed, grabbed my shotgun, racked a round and pointed it at the subject trying to steal my tv. I remember saying “look motherfucker, just get out of here!” before the subject finally vanished. I woke up.

I look back on that shit and just shake my head. That’s why I invested in a gun cabinet for my firearms. And the key isn’t anywhere accessible. Yes, I know it defeats the purpose of having firearms if I can’t get to them when in dire need. But I’d rather have the right to own and possess them instead of accidentally discharging one in my apartment and having the cops come and take them from me and then I’m deemed “unsafe” to have them in my home. Now we are all happy, see?

I’ve done a lot of research about night terrors on my own. incurable like the doctors have told me? I don’t know, maybe. I guess time will tell. In the meantime, I’ve done a lot for myself to reduce stress in my life because that seems to be the deciding factor when and where shit will go down. It’s not fun but I’m all about bettering myself mentally and physically. I’m not that kind of combat vet to self destruct. I’m better than that.

I am.

Happy Valentines Day

I’ve never been a big Valentines day kind of guy. Maybe because I’ve never really had a person in my life worth spending any type of resources on. Lately, I’ve come across a woman who sort of shares the same views that I have about Valentines Day. I like to look on Facebook of all my married friends, friends who have girlfriends and all the single girls out there looking for a Valentine post their thoughts, gifts and whatever else that unfolds. It’s interesting. Really, it is. I was about to buy a small gift for my new lady friend and had already expressed the importance of Valentines Day to her when she told me the history behind the date. It sort of deflated my bubble, honestly. I couldn’t help to laugh at myself about how ridiculous I felt at that moment.

Do you realize what this day is about?! I wasn’t simply going to stand around and not validate what she had told me! This was one of the more fun days for people in America! Valentines day is the second most celebrated day next to New Years! Dudes all across America are trying to get laid by buying their woman chocolates, foot massages, expensive jewelry, sexy lingerie and awesome dinners! Could the stories be true?!

According to mythology, some dude by the name of Saint Valentinus or whatever, apparently had this crush on his jailer’s daughter. Whoa, he was in jail?! Yeah, he was. Valentinus was in jail for attempting to wed folk that weren’t allowed to get married. Oh. My. God. Seriously??! Yeah! Seriously?! Well, according to the myth. Do you know what this story reminds me of? It reminds me of the republicans of America trying to stop gays from marrying each other. Anyway. Valentinus gets his ass executed for his actions and sends this nifty little message to the jailer’s daughter, Asterius. Before his execution, he wrote her a letter claiming his love and signed “from your Valentine” at the bottom. Cute, right?

My thoughts on Valentines day are pretty simple. Why should I express my fullest potential of love on this one day? Is she not deserving of this the other 364 days out of the year? Why is it on this one day I have to shower her with gifts, love, acceptance and appreciation? Why not year ’round? I suppose this day is supposed to be like Mothers day or Fathers day? Well, I’d like to say I appreciate my parents every day no matter how much they despise me or feel disappointed in the way I live my life. Yeah, sorry I didn’t follow right behind in your fucking foot steps, parents. I had to find my own fucking way, thanks. And I’ll save this rant for another blog entry.

Anyway, what the fuck. Valentines day is overrated and ridiculous. Some dude gets his head hacked off and as a man I’m supposed to shower my girlfriend/wife with gifts? Right. Well, I’ll make a mental note that I won’t be getting any action on February 14th and I’ll also make a mental note that until prices of wedding bands equal out, you won’t either. Smile.

Antique_Valentine_1909_01

 

A Bird Fly So High

I’ve been having these mixed feelings during the last few weeks. You know, where I want my life to go…or more importantly who I want in my life. I’ve been desperately trying to reconnect with my therapist. But its like, every time I make an appointment, I fail to keep it. I’ve been on these binge drinking episodes and thankfully it’s cleared up. I guess drinking every night for weeks on end has left me pretty much bloated, hung over, hopeless and feeling like shit. It’s sort of worn it’s welcome, I suppose.

I can’t help to feel that my life has reached sort of a lull. Whatever that’s supposed to mean. Things have been so chaotic lately, I’m afraid of what’s going to happen next. I feel shamefully alone and secluded and I’m not sure I enjoy my jobs anymore. Mainly because I have to be so uppity and standoff-ish to people I work around, it makes me feel uncomfortable. I’m a happy guy when I’m at work, you know? And I can’t be a happy guy around people I care about. It bothers me. It bothers me a lot. Sometimes I get done with a task and I drag my feet back to my office because I know it’s just me back there. Back there with nothing. No one to converse with. No one to care about or be with. It’s sort of …stupid.

I’ve also felt like I’d like to be more assertive. You know, speak my mind more. Tell people to kiss my ass every once in a while. But I’m also very fearful of repercussions and outcomes that it keeps me humble. I always ask myself how far I can go with things. How far can I assert myself and how far can I push the envelope. Some days I just want to get into peoples’ faces and bark orders and tell everyone to “calm the fuck down”. I don’t know, though. It all seems egotistical, aggressive and outgoing. All which I am none of.

Today I passed a pizza restaurant on the way home from work. I wanted to pull in there and eat a slice or two and just get plastered drunk. That’s what I wanted to do. I didn’t. I stopped into Alberstons some time down the road and stood in the beer aisle. I ended up buying a six-pack of beer for when I got home. And now I sit. When I stepped out onto my small little patio outside my subtle studio apartment, I looked up into the gray sky that Seattle offered me and wished I was a little bird. I wanted to be a bird so bad at that very moment.

I just don’t care tonight. I struggled so hard to be the very best person I could be to everyone that cares..and I feel that I always come up so short. Little bird, fly away. Care no more and fly away. Fly so far and care no more. Just fly. Just fly away.

 

A Sue-Happy World

“I’m going to sue you!”

Raise your hand if you’ve ever heard a person yell that phrase at another human being before. I think I’ve heard it a few times in my lifetime. I’ve even heard soldiers claim they’re going to “sue the government” and then other soldiers say “you can’t sue the government!”. It’s all such bullshit.

Recently, I stumbled on a news story of a couple of dudes in New Jersey (pardon me if I don’t have all my facts straight, I really don’t care) attempting to sue Subway for $5 Million dollars because their foot long sandwich was not exactly a foot long; or 12 inches. Right? Seriously, $5 million dollars? Who comes up with that figure anyway?! Probably some rich lawyer that feeds on people like these two dudes in New Jersey. So I don’t pin the blame all on them. Obviously they were manipulated by some form of greed or another.

The whole point of this blog entry is to point out just how greedy and lazy people are in America. Allow me to rewind a bit, too. This will help solidify my point. And if not, oh well. Since President Obama has become our president, it seems people have just been flocking to the welfare office. I’ve heard stories from people on unemployment or other programs about how they’ve just milked the system, blah blah blah. I’ve heard these stories with my own ears, people. Anyway. That is not really the whole point of this entry.

The point of this blog entry is I wish people would find it in their hearts to put in an honest 40 hour work week. I understand times are tough. Trust me, I’ve been there. I’ve seen rock bottom. I know how hard it is to find decent work that’s bearable and fun. Since I’ve been out of the service, I’ve worked my fair share of shit paying jobs. I’ve taken my lumps and kept on, though. Now my current job, I get to deal with the underbelly scum of the city. And it breaks my heart how people don’t try. I’ve heard every excuse in the book.

For those two people in New Jersey that have taken it upon themselves to finally “get there’s”, you’re doing nobody a favor. You’re actually hurting the system, if you will. Subway now has to recoup that loss by raising prices or cutting back or whatever it is they have to do to unfuck the $5 million they’re about to lose. And the asshole judge and the scumbag lawyer who’re about to reward you two fuckheads with $5 million just so they can get their cheesy ass cut are filthy pigs as well, and apart of the problem.

One last thing and then I will close for the night. Did you know a big rumor that’s going around other countries about the United States? We are “sue-happy.”! Can you fucking believe that?! We are sue-happy. Canada thinks so, and so does Europe. How do I know? I’ve been told by a Canadian AND I’ve been told by many Europeans. It makes me sick. It makes me sick to my stomach that people can’t just go out and make a decent living by working hard…ah fuck it.

Comments, concerns? You know where to leave them.