Re-adjusting ...

Some of the old familiar feelings don't remian in my memory and I forget certain things ... unless I feel something that's been repeated from the past and in very similar circumstances.

I'm feeling so many of those things this morning.

I've started getting back into my usual pattern here:   morning bath for pain relief, check the messages in case I have to do anything, see how things are going on a game that I play with people that I have gotten to know a little around the world.

This morning I was remembering the routine I had gotten into at Combat Stress over the last few days:  Up at 06:00 hrs and then off to gym with two of my mates, breakfast at 08:00 followed by a hot bath for the pain relief and then into a group or a 1-to-1 session with my key therapist.  Lunch at 12:30 hrs, some more therapy around 13:30 hrs, followed by some space to think things through before the relaxation class at 16:00 hrs.  Tea at 17:00 hrs followed by an hour or two of watching the fox with her cubs.

The things that I forgot to mention are probably the most crucial:  there was always someone around to talk with (clinically), there was always a mate around to have a laugh with or talk or mutually support each other if things got particularly difficult.  I was understood, I wasn't judged, I was accepted, I wasn't ridiculed, I wasn't ostracised, I wasn't discriminated against, no one made me false promises, I was treated like a human being, I was accepted, I was with my mates again ... different people in different uniforms that did different tasks ... but it felt as if I was with the lads I'd served with, the lads I miss.

I got back and opened up the mail to find a letter from the NHS stating that they can't provide me with the support that I need.  This is why a lot of veterans don't risk going for help ... opening yourself up makes you vulnerable and brings all the issues into the present.  This can become a very negative and painful experience that reinforces the theme of 'rejection' that the MoD drowned me in when, through their lack of action and responsibility for my well being, they left me with one message ... we don't care about you.  we wrote the political cheques and you were our currency when you were fit and strong ... but now you're just the loose change that we can discard somewhere or a penny that we'd drop on the pavement and not bother to pick up.

I find myself shutting down again in certain ways within the solitude of being here again .

Time to find some food ...


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