Tuesday, July 30, 2013

I'm Surprised You Ain't a Drunk!

The kids across the street at the day care center are playing their 'man down' game this morning. The game is conducted in such a quiet and reserved manner that only half of my remaining hairs stand on end. The shrieking game on the other hand causes every hair to stand at attention and my buttocks to levitate above the seat a few inches. I don't much like either game, perhaps the kids could take up knitting or a rousing game of Zirkon Tank Defender III on their little computers. On second thought, knitting might cause them to grow up unacceptably violent, a real danger to society and their peers.

Somehow the subject came up at one of the counseling sessions during my first attempt to eliminate the anxiety of PTSD. Ah, those days of hope and naiveté when I thought that this could be cured with a little talking and a few pills. My counselor gave me a nice thought to go home with one day, something like: I'm surprised you ain't a drunk! Of course, Jason, my counselor during those sessions holds a master's degree and is a licensed mental health person so he said it more eloquently than that, but my version is more fun.

It isn't that I didn't give serious thought to an unauthorized form of medicinal treatment. I think that every person suffering from PTSD would try almost anything to relieve the pain and distress. Like athletes, we can be a little stupid that way when it comes to chemicals. However, at least with alcohol, God blessed me with a stomach wholly unsuited to binge drinking or long-term experimental self medication. Terrible heartburn just isn't worth adding to the pains I already endure under PTSD. Therefore I can claim no towering self-discipline or will power in this. I'll have a beer or two every now and then, but most of the time it's just easier on me to do without. Drugs are a different story, but not in the way of amateur pharmacology studies like the folks you may see laying around the streets and alleys.

My one experience with a narcotic pain reliever didn't suit me. As a part of pulling me back from the brink, morphine was administered under prescription and intense supervision. I think the intensive part of the Intensive Care floor comes from how many times they wake you up at night to check if you are sleeping. "Well, I was..." For about a week I got to enjoy what I named horizontal morphine dreams. A better term, now that years have passed and I'm trying to sound smart, would be sequential morphine dreams. I dreamed the same nightmarish dream three times in a row until I cried to wake up and didn't want to sleep again. Vertical morphine dreams are those used in the old A Nightmare on Elm Street movie, or if you need something from this century, Inception used the same method. This is a dream where the victim awakens into another dream and then another until he cannot tell what is real and what is a dream. Praise God I didn't have to deal with that! Come to think of it, nested morphine dreams might describe that better. I'm renaming Bucky's Theory of Morphine Dreams on the fly!

A good round of placebos helps some folks with their symptoms. I heartily recommend placebos; Peanut M&M's are a favorite of mine. If we must get addicted to chemicals, then placebos are a better solution than something that causes horrible side effects such as weight gain or bloating. Reese's Peanut Butter Cups Miniatures are another good placebo that fits the bill. Surprisingly, Amazon lists these in Grocery when they are obviously a Health and Personal Care item. The expense of placebos is only slightly less than a cocaine habit, so be sure to take it up with your physician or counselor to get a prescription. Renting a costumed kid to walk around with on Halloween is a good way to stock up on placebos. Be sure to take an extra bag for little 'Ferdy' who is sick at home.

Chemical or drug solutions to help with the symptoms of PTSD are necessary for some folks. My first therapy round included one of the anti-depressants, Celexa, (my spelling may not be correct), that helped mute the ups and downs of emotion until cognitive behavior therapy methods combined with my faith in Christ helped get things mostly under control. I'm not just interjecting my faith here, that was noted by my counselor as well. Whether that came before or after his backhanded suggestion to get drunk, I don't recall. Until the next time, God bless you!

Bucky

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