MaryanneB
Frail little widow lady.
- Joined
- Jan 28, 2015
- Posts
- 3,476
Ben Wah balls....good thingsIf only it were possible to keep them flowing constantly without killing someone.
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Ben Wah balls....good thingsIf only it were possible to keep them flowing constantly without killing someone.
I think...no, I KNOW that a reasonable "dosage" is eminently possible. Timing (and availability) is everything!![]()
Ben Wah balls....good things
Reasonably dosage and a lot of fluids!
As long as they're made right!
Ummmm... made right?
I'll bite.
How can they be made not right?![]()
The woman I mentioned earlier in the thread called me last week.
On the upside: it was a weird enough call to confirm, yeah, she is definitely mentally ill--probably a cluster B personality disorderly, very likely NPD--and not just a lying, cheating, manipulative asshole.
Downside: while I kept a strong front on the call itself and kept bringing the conversation toward what she did to me and away from the offer of reconciliation she was dangling, she did manage to get inside my head. (She reasserted her "love" for me.) And I was awkward as fuck on a date that week as a result. It turned out to be a bad but this chicken-and-egged it. Was it bad because I was just having shitty luck that week or because I was so damn awkward?
Lally,
If I were in that situation, I would find gestures that say "I see you and you are not alone", that also honor his wishes. Maybe drop off home made food or a new book to read. Something I see in the severely or terminally ill is that they start to be seen only as their illness and current state of being instead of a human being with a rich life story. Instead of going to see him because he is unwell, go to connect with the rest of him.
Crack a joke or bring donuts or fresh baked bread. Help him to be reminded that he is and is seen as more than his current state of being. A momentary reminder of how he is same with everyone else. It's these "same" reminders that help to remind us we are part of a much larger group. Maybe there is a way he would be able to create pen pal connections to his old work.
Another thought, if he lived a life of service that was his life passion, not having a way to serve might be what hurts most. Maybe find something that he can help you with? Maybe being useful is what makes him feel alive. Asking him to do more than just sit and be ill and stared at night help? Maybe there is a priest type role he can still play for people. Online? Over the phone? Something.
My best wishes to him for comfort and purpose that helps carry him through this chapter and thank you to you, Lally for caring for him. Good human stuff.![]()
For all intents and purposes I'm blind. One eye seems like it was scoured with sandpaper, the other seems like its coated with Vaseline. That's my reality. If I wanna read I sit outside in the Sun to do it. I don't go on tv and whine for $19 a month from you.
I believe most people use their depression etc as rackets for outcomes they cant get honestly.
Have you ever tried a Kindle or other tablet for reading? Master has macular degeneration, only has peripheral vision in one eye and the other is warp-ish. He used to be an avid reader but quit because it got way too hard. I suggested he try the original Kindle, just so he could enlarge the font size. A few months ago he got the new Fire 7" as an upgrade and LOVES it. He can turn up the brightness AND adjust the font size, and reads every day, again.
Seriously, your response to me sharing that I have PTSD is that it's an excuse for losers?
Very supportive. PTSD affects all kinds of trauma including combat - I only stayed away from that type of photo because there is still a massive misconception about non-vet PTSD. Its not in any way to reduce their experiences.
I'm not quite sure where your opinion has come from but sounds like you need awareness month to help with your knowledge
I didn't actually call you any names - I requoted your comment. Your levels of understanding and compassion make me glad you're retired.I was in the Vietnam War and lost most of my teeth. I saw zero PTSD while I was there. I saw bazillions of drunks. I'm a retired psychologist who examined many PTSD patients. All who claimed to be vets never served in the military. All were drunks and drug addicts. PTSD was for real victims of disasters and horrendous fortune, not an excuse for cant hack life losers. Spare me your loser insults.
My son has a PTSD disability from the military, because...get this...he served in the military. Awww. Poor baby. I laugh at him.
I didn't actually call you any names - I requoted your comment. Your levels of understanding and compassion make me glad you're retired.
He also doesn't seem to get that substance abuse is a clear indicator of PTSD--so he's basically giving a concrete example of being epically imperceptive.
And how, exactly, is being in an urban warzone where most people being killed are civilian non-combatants AND being kept there more or less indefinitely as a sort of backdoor draft NOT a traumatic experience.
As bad as Vietnam was, they didn't have "stop loss" procedures because, you know, there was a fucking draft. If you got called up for a tour and survived, you either got a long paid vacation as a sign-up bonus for another tour or got to go home. Vets of the recent wars didn't have those options.