Sorry Seems To Be The Hardest Word

By Mick Mouse · Mar 6, 2018 ·
  1. OK, I'm opinionated, I admit that. And I'm, at the best of times right now, an ass-hole. But I have a sense of what is right and what is wrong. I have my own personal moral and ethical code that I do not violate Sometimes, that includes an apology. Not often, mind you! But sometimes it is just the right thing to do.

    With that in mind, I called the VA again last night. Asked to speak to the stupid fucking jar-head I had so much trouble with yesterday. Apologized. Told him I was sorry for both my words and tone, as well as deliberately using certain words I knew he found offensive. Tried to explain what was going on in my life and in my mind that caused me to be so rude and disrespectful. Gave him a brief description of what had happened to me back in the day to have started this whole descent into hell, also called PTSD.

    He broke down and cried. Told me that he was unbelievably sorry for what was done to me. Of course, I lost it then as well. That is all I ever wanted, to be acknowledged. To have someone say "Hey, we're sorry. We can't change things now, but we are sorry this happened to you".

    He said he is looking forward to meeting me when I get there in March. Probably to punch me in the face! But I deserve that.

    Last night, I slept for 7 hours straight. Didn't wake up once. Woke up this morning feeling good for the first time in longer than I can remember. Right now, I feel.....at ease. Calm, and ready to take up the fight once more. We will see what the day brings, but I have high hopes and confidence that this is going to be a good day.

    Physically, I feel as if I have turned the corner. The cannabinoid hyper-emesis is gone, for the most part. The constant sinus drainage seems to be disappearing as well. The back and shoulder pain is still here, but I have ways to fight that. Going back to inversion, yoga, and bio-feedback, along with stretching and other exercises. Plus the occasional muscle relaxer and NSAID!

    Mentally, I'm still a wreck, but just a partial one now, I think. The demon of addiction is still there, he may never go completely away. But my hope, right now, is that I can relegate him to a murmer in the background. Like any other irritating little fuck, if you ignore him, maybe he will go away. Probably not, but I don't care. I have more important things to work on. Like rebuilding my life. I will be passing on all of my gear-my bong, pipes, and remaining "stuff" to someone else. The remaining dope, I will toss in my solstice/equinox bonfire, as a symbolic gesture and an offering to my Goddess. I see Her hand in this, and once again, I am astounded by her humor!

    I also say I'm sorry to you, my dear friends and readers here. I have been crude and vulgar throughout these entires. I will pledge to work on that. I use certain words like a fish breaths in water, without thinking about it. I will be, or at least try to be,, more cognizant of this failure in the future.

    I'm sorry.

    About Author

    Mick Mouse
    "Survivors seem to function best when peril is close at hand!"
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