Trauma may overcome us, but it does NOT define us!
© Andrè M. Pietroschek, all rights reserved
Outbursts, pain, fear, shock and similar post traumatic symptoms oft have an unsettling effect unto us: they can violate, and alienate, the personality and body in ways that can be hard to handle. Being ripped out of our own normalcy IS a challenging ordeal for the ego, as it takes a long time to fully handle all aspects of it.
- Six months of taking walks before I could restart basic martial arts. All in preparation of getting my body fit enough for 20 to 30 hours of work per week!
- PTS flashbacks, whenever a cold wind reached my body.
- Inner torn apart feeling, as I am absolutely doubting that ‘society’ is the right side any longer.
In example: It took me some months to survive the winter as one of the urban homeless. It took me some more months to handle the death of Silke Manuela Tobin, the woman who had literally taken me off the streets, and into a temporal flat-share. She fell into the final and fatal coma, while I held her skull to prevent her swallowing her own vomit, and called the ambulance.
- It sure doesn’t make me posture the perfect Catholic, but why did so few psychologists or self-help gurus mention that female friends dying means certain types of women are auto-skipped from the ‘mating scheme’ by our brain?
I felt like an idiot, when I attempted to visit her in hospital. Delivering the medical care card, clothing, and the little luxuries I could muster. Next visit her death was announced to me. The chief of the emergency station, Dr. Ingo Voigt, verified that my first aid had been flawless, and that I was blameless.
- But her last wish was that I plant a knife into the throat of her fiancee, and I did not, even though I agree on his guilt, and rotting in prison is not the worst way out of life… Well, my debt to her was paid days before her final farewell.
Life went on, I struggled my step by step way out of the death-row which being urban homeless tends to be, thanks to street-crime, environment, and disease (including the risks due prostitutes or drugs). The companions who helped me survive each night outside were mostly left behind, as many denied or failed to go through the processes of applying for social fee, renting a new room, and accepting the minimum wage jobs ‘us kind of people’ are expected to be grateful for.
- I still pay the loans for my old rooms, the ones before I became urban homeless. New loans run, and the ‘indebted’ label was branded unto me, as the German Schufa dutifully had to do it.
- New workmates, and old antagonists are still trying to dominate my life in their own ways. The good moments never compensate for the damage done by the bad guys, sad but true.
The weird guilt of having evaded worse did set in subtly, gnawing at my confidence and concentration for several months. While writing this I have been back in the working force for several months, with zero days ill. Though I felt eager to die most of the time, had no dates, no drinks, no social spare time in pubs or clubs, and truly no wish for any of it either.
- This time work was a good experience, but the absence of a privacy, the mere being reduced to functioning, burdens me a lot.
The only people who offer anything better than immature crap and ignorant assumptions are still other survivors. Sometimes a social worker, priest or police officer does acknowledge the tougher truisms discovered. Still mostly it is a daily get by due lying and making pretend, as our society does not want to hear the truth, it is banished to anonymous meetings, therapy couches or psychiatric institutions.
- I do not like political extremism. Still the worst form of extremism is the lethargy which makes millions of us just allow the government to do as abusive, as it pleases! For ti shows in our everyday-lives, and we all get harmed by it.
I am a ‘lucky’ case, one of the rare success stories. I made it back into a room, back into work, and I can even act decently mainstreamed for a while. Sure, I had to survive only months, blissfully denying the option of kicking someone down the subway stairs, so that the robbery would make me survive one more night (or similar street-crime). Neither did I have to consider cannibalism or starvation. Lucky me, though the fact that such does become a topic in a modern city is already inhuman and disgusting.
- Saving money had resulted in urban homeless, drug-addicts, and people returning from prison or psychiatry all being under one ministry, and with half the funds. A surefire way to breed diseased malcontents, and certainly not a solution to any social dilemma!
Bureaucracy goes on, mainstream ignorance pesters recurrently, demands on me are high, practicing it themselves remains rare or absent. Life, as usual. An ass-holy society, which was, and is, so ill-bred and overpaid that it denies to see the financial crisis which already ensures we will regret all the unsolved problems…
- It is no fairy tale or fantasy roleplay. The ebook I published was pirated before I sold a single copy, and doing a revision is such a waste of time to me, as it will not sell any better.
- The problems do not vanish just because I escaped their killing edge, as others make the same experiences, and the state denies to solve the problems with the same disregard and lack of care, as usual.
- Armed criminals roam the streets, verified news by police and city major, and still people stare unto their useless, idiotic smartphones because compensating the own insecurities, and the own bleak existence, has become so blasphemously normal… This life is the hell we all will die in, just that different evils may decide to become our killers.
To accept the reality of the suffered loss.
To work through your pain, or grief and sorrow.
To adjust to your ongoing life without the deceased.
To maintain a connection (memorial) to the deceased while moving on with life.
To get rich, sniff loads of cocaine, dwell in luxury, kill the motherfucking freaks who opposed me, go unscathed, and kick the governments face in? Ooops, wishful thinking of a darker kind… LOL!
Finished at 10:46 pm, and at 05.20 am my alarm clocks have to awaken me for another shift at work. Sometimes it sucks…