Archive for July, 2013


This was a private journal entry dated July 5th, 2013. Releasing this to the public *is not* easy. Be looking for Part 3 soon.

So… to be honest with myself and the rest of the world, I’ve been getting my ass handed to me recently with all flavors and sorts of general stress, chronic back issues and now my newly found and debilitating hearing issues. Hearing loss is one thing, it sucks but the severe tinnitus that accompanies it… it’s terrible. Sleep is my only escape from any of the symptoms but the act of getting to sleep is always a such a challenge for me.

I’ve had a few really rough nights with twisted and deeply scarring nightmares over the last couple weeks, as well. I’ve had a couple hard flashbacks on top of that. After helping my grandmother in her yard and doing a bit of digging with a shovel, the smell of fresh earth made me sick. Very sick. I quickly had a few flashbacks and other generally shitty thoughts and feelings and just had to stop, go inside and lie down. The smell of the dirt really did me in. I think it’s from smelling it at accident scenes when cars had gone off the road and rolled, kicking up dirt and gouging out the earth a bit. The smells on scene are usually pretty strong and are almost always in conjunction with the odor of airbags and sometimes alcohol or the metallic smell of blood. So yeah… that sucked.




I wrote this in early March of 2013. I just need(ed) to vent. I’m not looking for pity or anything of the like… I just want to get out my feelings (with a group “of my own”, if that makes any sense). It is directed more toward the general public but I digress. Part 2 coming shortly…

These eyes have seen the worst of people.

Mangled bodies of close friends and strangers alike, charred corpses, decapitations, eviscerations and amputations.

I’ve seen the effects of blunt objects and shotguns after a spiteful rage. I have the images of brain matter and hair splattered on white walls after a husband came home early and killed his wife and her partner before turning the gun on himself.

I’ve seen the body of a broken and bleeding 23 month old boy being carried from the living room floor of a mobile home to the back of our rig and fought back the tears and insurmountable rage while we worked his lifeless body en route to the trauma center… simply because his parents had beaten him one too many times.

I’ve watched the monitor as our patient’s blood pressure continued to drop as he slipped into irreversible shock, completely helpless and unable to do anything more for him other than offering very basic comfort.

I’ve seen the cold stare in my friends’ eyes, as we attempted to cut them free from the crumpled remains of their car after a beautiful day at the lake, surrounded by family and friends. And I’ve gotten the phone call hours later, still on duty, saying “I’m sorry honey, they didn’t make it”.

I’ve responded for my friends and I’ve responded for their family. Intense pressure, hurt and fear doesn’t even begin to describe how that makes me feel inside. The feeling kills me.

I’ve seen so many things that I will never be able to forget. No matter how hard I fight or how much I cry… I will never forget. The sleepless nights are just the surface of an everlasting internal struggle between my heart, my mind and these memories. If only my mind could forget the things my eyes have seen. (more…)