Help! "It's" 'driving me crazy-..

In things I cannot control .....

Que Sera, Sera (Whatever Will Be, Will Be)

Song by​

Doris Day
When I was just a little girl
I asked my mother
What will I be?
Will I be pretty?
Will I be rich?
Here's what she said to me
"Que sera, sera
Whatever will be, will be
The future's not ours to see
Que sera, sera
What will be, will be"
When I grew up and fell in love
I asked my sweetheart
What lies ahead?
Will we have rainbows
Day after day?
Here's what my sweetheart said
"Que sera, sera
Whatever will be, will be
The future's not ours to see
Que sera, sera
What will be, will be"
Que sera, sera
 
The awful music they play over the phone when your on hold. How do I handle it. Not very well.
I don't know if you've experienced this, but I've noticed many times the hold music has been an instrumental version of the Eagles' "Lyin' Eyes". I liked the melody and arrangement, but it's been worn out for me. :rolleyes:
 
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I used to get so frustrated with so many every day things. I don’t know if it’s because I’m old now or because I’m retired but I’ve really mellowed. However, occasionally I see my 40 year old son just not able to handle the stupidity of others or things that don’t go right. His father had a stroke before he passed and I wish I could tell my son not to take everything so personally.

It’s just not worth it. Don’t worry, be happy!😆
 
I'm not to good at trying to figure out cryptic messages. I'm a little better with acronyms.
So WTF does that post mean?
My black snake is PTSD, you see, making me paranoid.
Bringing back toxic memories of killing I try to avoid.

My black snake brings me horrible thoughts.
So I turn to Southern Comfort for drink.

Violence burning deep inside sometimes bubbles to the surface.
War planted this seed in me in a long ago fight.

My black snake hates everyone... Myself most of all!
 
My black snake is PTSD, you see, making me paranoid.
Bringing back toxic memories of killing I try to avoid.

My black snake brings me horrible thoughts.
So I turn to Southern Comfort for drink.

Violence burning deep inside sometimes bubbles to the surface.
War planted this seed in me in a long ago fight.

My black snake hates everyone... Myself most of all!
That's a powerful, heart breaking post. I wish there were words to make it all better.
 
That's a powerful, heart breaking post. I wish there were words to make it all better.
Thank you. It's so hard to convey these thoughts to anyone who hasn't had to deal with them. My last group therapy suggested I try to put it in writing what I felt. Hard to do. Here's one attempt.

Imagine this.......
After a blistering hot day humping up and down mud slicked hills, or tramping wide open fields, or ass deep water crossings, or just plain old steamy jungle, imagine setting out booby traps on enemy trails, laying in wait, then,if no action, ever so carefully, breaking them down because it's time to move on and try again.

At dusk, after finding a spot for your pack and gear, after eating a cold c-rations meal of beans and franks, imagine curling up on the cold wet ground. Now, never truly fast asleep, you're woken twice in the night by a man gently tapping your resting arm. “Your guard,” he whispers, for the first of two one hour shifts.

Before the next grueling day begins, there is the welcoming taste of GI coffee. Here is how to make it..........

Seated crossed legged, take a chunk of C4 the size of a thumbnail, shape it into a ball, set it carefully down. Tear open the packet of instant coffee saved from last nights c-ration meal. Pour it into a canteen cup half filled with water. Tap the brown powder over the cup, stir with a c-ration white plastic spoon. Strike a match and light the C4. Do not breathe in the white smoke, (the fumes, it is said, are harmful).
Hold the canteen cup over the burning explosive until the water boils, usually about thirty seconds. Remove the cup from the bright yellow flames. Let the C4 burn itself out. Those who stomp on it risk losing a foot.

With eyes closed, inhale the savory vapors. Put the cup to your lips, feel the hot inky brew flood your mouth, scorching your tongue, rolling down your willing gullet. The taste is awful, but it will have to do.

This is (hopefully), the quiet time.
All grunts savor this quiet time, before every inch of your body is salty with sweat. The quiet time, before
seething mosquitoes, snapping ants, creeping leeches bite or sting or drink your blood.
This quiet time is before sudden shots that fill you with dread that death is upon you.
This quiet time is before the screaming sounds of the wounded, or the smells of the dead.

Quiet time is all too fleeting, which ends followed by the dim rustling of what seems like a hundred packs, helmets, weapons reluctantly lifted, slung, shifted to place and your day starts again.
 
Anything like all that has to change someone inside. My dad was a hard man and I once asked my mother how, why did she put up with him. She cried and said she loved him, and he wasn't like that before he went to war (WW2) but "when he came home from that war, he wasn't the same person."

It's good to know you mentioned in the beginning you are in group therapy. I hope it helps.
 
My black snake brings me horrible thoughts.
So I turn to Southern Comfort for drink.
So have acted you negatively on those horrible thoughts. Are there meds to help with what you are experiencing? While Southern Comfort isn't the best remedy. Sounds to me you know what drives those thoughts so you have some control over "it".

I understand the impact that war can have on individuals. I had an excellent mechanic that worked for me. He had difficulty working with others due to his service during the Viet Nam era. He had pics of some of the men he served with before they were covered over. lower body missing, arms or legs missing. On his casket his wife placed the 3 Purple Hearts he received.
 
So have acted you negatively on those horrible thoughts. Are there meds to help with what you are experiencing? While Southern Comfort isn't the best remedy. Sounds to me you know what drives those thoughts so you have some control over "it".
I'd love to say I've never gave in to those horrible thoughts, but, that wouldn't be true. (cannot discuss this openly... legal issues).
Southern Comfort and good music have been the most helpful at the moment.

As for meds......... A few that haven't helped.
Venlafaxine.......... high level of Agitation..
Prazosin................ Headaches, Dizziness
Ketamine.............. The worst by far... hallucinations and increased anger.
 
Try to remember when I was too busy to bother about the little things.
 


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