callusesandchaos

[callusesandchaos]

Turn Your Hazards On.

Leaned forward, eyes squinting, wipers aggressively going across the windshield. Maybe the storm will let up, it’s never going to stop completely, but maybe there will be a moment of ease, an alternative route taken.

I’ve been on the route before, it’s the one etched in my mind, my soul. I’ve gone down it almost robotically. So I know the bridge ahead without having to see it. The silence takes over, the calm engulfs and the chaos is gone.

This won’t be a simple pass under. This won’t be a brief moment of escaping the storm. I’m pulling over, I’m turning the hazards on, and I’m waiting all of the chaos out.

You’re my bridge. 🍊

[callusesandchaos]

A Broke Clock Is Right Twice A Day

I miss...”us”. If there was ever an “us”. I don’t think we ever officially put a name on it, but we both knew. Or maybe, foolishly, only I knew, and got wrapped up in you. Oh, that being wrapped up in you. What I wouldn’t give to have that back again.

You have this thing about you. The way you’ve always carried yourself, the stupid smirk you have. But that smile, the genuine one, that I know is rare, and few people have really ever seen. How I have that smile engraved into my memory, how I’ve seen it with me, how I hold it dear.

You have an instant calm about you, my love. As soon as you entered a room, I knew 100% I was okay, more importantly that I was SAFE. You didn’t ever have to say it, but I knew you’d protect me and hurt anyone who even had a fleeting thought of doing me harm.

I can’t pinpoint when I fell in love with you, but I know I wasn’t supposed to. I know there was rules to “us” and I know I broke them the instant I handed you the tools to break down this wall. I started to crave you, and not even physically. Just YOU. You knew this, you fed the cravings. I fed yours, maybe that was your way of saying “I love you too.”

The “I can’t stand you” texts, the good morning messages,the long deep conversations in the car, the simple things...except timing. Timing is a bitch. But, hey, a broke clock is right twice a day still...

🍊

[callusesandchaos]

Guess who’s back..back again.

They say what doesn’t kill you, makes you stronger. Well I’m about to be the fucking Hulk pretty soon. These last 2.5months have tested every aspect of my life down to the last thread. I mean unraveling, don’t touch it, don’t breath on it, don’t look at it thread. So this is what I get for attempting to be normal, huh?

Long story short, diagnosed with an autoimmune disease (CREST Disease) that attacks all my connective tissue (to include internal organs and joints) Fibromyalgia and spending 3 weeks in the hospital due to this. Throw in the attempt to have a normal relationship.

Guess who came knocking at my door during all of this? Gadamn PTSD. And she came with that cop knock, like beat down the door kind of knock. Oh come on…not now. My body is trying to kill me, and now my mind wants in on it as well?!? Fuck me!!

See, I know I have a “new normal” but from time to time I attempt to try to be like everyone else. I try to lie to myself that I’m perfectly normal, that I’m going to be able to maintain a relationship like the rest of my friends, or even a basic day to day schedule.

I. Lie. To. Myself.

That is when the demons come knocking. That’s when I’ve pissed them off so much they come looking for a fight. They get their fight. I always win though. Or attempt to. I’m in a funk right now. I’m in a “why does my body hate me, why does my mind never quiet, why am I unworthy of love?” kind of funk.

But this is PTSD. This is Autoimmune Disease. This is ME.

This too shall pass. I don’t know when. I don’t know how. But it will. I serve some purpose, I have to. I have to believe that.

To the man that told me I was unworthy because of my PTSD, you’re a coward and weak. YOU are unworthy of ME!

[callusesandchaos]

Guess who’s back..back again.

They say what doesn’t kill you, makes you stronger. Well I’m about to be the fucking Hulk pretty soon. These last 2.5months have tested every aspect of my life down to the last thread. I mean unraveling, don’t touch it, don’t breath on it, don’t look at it thread. So this is what I get for attempting to be normal, huh?

Long story short, diagnosed with an autoimmune disease (CREST Disease) that attacks all my connective tissue (to include internal organs and joints) Fibromyalgia and spending 3 weeks in the hospital due to this. Throw in the attempt to have a normal relationship.

Guess who came knocking at my door during all of this? Gadamn PTSD. And she came with that cop knock, like beat down the door kind of knock. Oh come on...not now. My body is trying to kill me, and now my mind wants in on it as well?!? Fuck me!!

See, I know I have a “new normal” but from time to time I attempt to try to be like everyone else. I try to lie to myself that I’m perfectly normal, that I’m going to be able to maintain a relationship like the rest of my friends, or even a basic day to day schedule.

I. Lie. To. Myself.

That is when the demons come knocking. That’s when I’ve pissed them off so much they come looking for a fight. They get their fight. I always win though. Or attempt to. I’m in a funk right now. I’m in a “why does my body hate me, why does my mind never quiet, why am I unworthy of love?” kind of funk.

But this is PTSD. This is Autoimmune Disease. This is ME.

This too shall pass. I don’t know when. I don’t know how. But it will. I serve some purpose, I have to. I have to believe that.

To the man that told me I was unworthy because of my PTSD, you’re a coward and weak. YOU are unworthy of ME!

[callusesandchaos]

Left On Read

Dating...what the fuck was I thinking? Seriously, why didn’t any of my friends stop me from doing this? Dating after being in a marriage for 10years is scary. Dating with PTSD is a whole clusterfuck in and of itself.

So cue scene- great first date. I’m talking DREAM date. We seem to be vibing. There’s even back to back texts, plans for a second date, and so on.

Fast forward 2 days later- short responses, and then the dreaded LEFT ON READ. Oh for fucks sake. Let’s have it brain, let’s run all the reasons why.

Did he see all the pill bottles in the bathroom when he asked to use it? I don’t take all those meds for the PTSD, but he wouldn’t know because he didn’t ask. Did he see the pics of extended family which includes my exes and wonder if there was still something going on? He wouldn’t know that for my son we still have pics, and I still have a great relationship with my exes family. Did he see my PTSD medical alert bracelet and decide he didn’t want any part of that.

Did he.... blah blah blah blah.

Zero Fucking clue because I’m LEFT ON READ. I don’t ask because I won’t chase. I now have a sour taste in my mouth for this whole dating thing.

Wait, no. I’m lying. I have a sour taste in my mouth for dating “normal” people. Bring me someone as damaged as me. Bring me someone with demons who will play with mine and we can have peaceful moments. Bring me someone who has the balls to not leave me on read.

[callusesandchaos]

For a moment...

As of late, I have zero fucking as to why I’m still alive, why I haven’t given in to these demons sooner. I’m more afraid of them then this shitty ass cancer. You can look at this pic, and just see another gym selfie.

You won’t see that it’s been almost a week since I’ve been in the gym because I’ve so fucking deep in my #PTSD downward spiral, or my panic attacks, my anxiety because “the date” is approaching, my disappointment in myself because I “can’t just push through” anymore.

Maybe you see a setup routine, light ass weight on the bar, and just scroll.

Tonight took everything from me, and finally gave a little of me back. Tonight I finally felt like “Fuck you, fear me” towards the demons, for a brief time. I put my head against that bar and I was calmed, the 140 on my shoulders felt light and settled me, and pushed all the tears out, the hurt, the anger, the regret, all of them.

Tonight I saw beauty in strong, powerful, thick thighs, instead of betrayal. For a moment I was able to forgive my soul again. For a moment...

So yes, I don’t “look sick” but it’s there, and when it rears it’s head, it’s horrid. I wouldn’t wish this on anyone. But I’ll heal, my way, underneath a 45lb bar.

#ArmyVet #MSTSurvivor #PTSD #LivingWithCancer #FromPTSDToFreedom #GWPL #HealingIsntLinear #ISYMFS #PowerliftingWomen #PowerLiftingNurse #ThickThighsThinPatience #TooHottiAF #EliteStrong #PowerliftingVSTheDemons

[callusesandchaos]

How did I get here…no, seriously. I’m still trying to “proceed to the route.”

Does anyone else remember the web charts we’d make in school? When the teacher would have you “brainstorm”? Yeah, just me, okay…. Well I’d use those the outside of class. See I’m a planner and a visualization type of person. I’ve got that whole “write down the goals, make the vision board, do the damn thing, set a new goal and go” person. Corny as fuck right? Ehhhh, it worked for me, and if I haven’t lost you to some Netflix original series yet, you’ll see why it’s important.

I had this incredible plan of going into the military right after HS, and was looking at military academies as well with full scholarships given my grades and involvement in JROTC. I was high fucking speed. That’s a military joke, it’s funny and degrading at the same time. So yeah back to that. Enter the end of junior year and a missed period. And another. Ding ding ding, you win the grand prize of being a teen mom.

I’m going to skip over all the details of pregnancy, child birth, breakup, meeting someone, getting married, having my 2nd child, getting divorced, blah blah. The point is… Siri was still there… PROCEED TO THE ROUTE. There was still an ache, a yearning to serve my country. Sooo… with 2 young daughters, a baby boy and being freshly married (for the 2nd time) I enlisted into the US Army. Gadamn was I over the moon. Until I hit the darkside of the moon.

Now if y’all read that first post, the part where I told you it gets heavy, here’s where I’m hoping you’ve been hitting the gym. ::Breathe:: ———::Breathe::

“Not this guy again.” Those are the words that came out of my COs mouth when he was informed of my assault. AGAIN. I was assured I’d be protected, taken care of, and it would not go unpunished. I was thrown to the wolves. They didn’t even bother to let me finish spit up the first go round of water they were choking me with, before holding me down under again. I fought, because you’re trained to fight. What a silly mistake that was. I learned my lesson.

He got his orders to warrant officer school. I got my honorable discharge, PID (pelvic inflammatory disease), HPV 18/45, PTSD, Anxiety, Depression, an addiction to pain pills, alcohol in the hopes I could kill the demons, and on 3 different occasions, myself. Eventually it cost me not being able to bear children ever again, due to cancer from the HPV 18/45.

Of all of these, PTSD has stolen the most from me. It’s stolen… me. I have a “new normal”, and I feel like Alice down the rabbit hole daily. I’ve learned how to control some reactions to triggers, how to recognize some triggers, but healing isn’t linear and it’s a process. I fight demons daily, and they’ve won a lot, but aren’t satisfied quite yet.

I’m alone with them, in the quiet, and I struggle to know what else they need/want from me. I’ve given them my soul, parts of my flesh, my marriage, my mind, my heart, and even tried to give them my life. I think they enjoy watching me relive my own hurt.

Folks will ask about time in the Army. I used to find a way to dance around why I was out. Now I stand firmly and say “I was raped.” That draws various reactions. None surprise me anymore. The Army blamed me, my (ex)husband blamed me, for fucks sake I still blame me. One question I’m always asked “Do you regret it?” That’s very open ended… joining- no, I’d do it again tomorrow. reporting my rape-yes, he’s still a rapist, but I would still be wearing my uniform with pride.

So how did I get here? I didn’t brainstorm this! I’m definitely getting a damn D- on this assignment! This is that “strong girl” everyone seems to be so fond of. Don’t be. I’ve just been through shit.

If you’re still here… refunds are available at the ticket counter to the left.

[callusesandchaos]

So about this blog thing...

“What in the actual hell am I thinking?” is the thought that goes through my head as I’m typing this. I’m the farthest thing from a “writer” and it took basically the threat of death from friends for me to even start this blog. ::Sigh:: Here I am, about to fuck it all up, kind of like life.

So there’s your semi introduction to me. If you’re ready to exit and run now, tighten the laces, nearest door is to the left. Be careful that first step gets you by surprise. If you’ve already paid full price for the ticket and bought snacks, kick back, watch the previews, and know the main event is WAAAAAAAYYYY more fucking entertaining and chaotic!

Welcome to the World of Kelly, an Army Veteran turned Nurse trying to figure out this “New Normal” of PTSD from MST, while going through cancer AGAIN, a separation/dating, and healing through powerlifting. Shit is about to get weird, funny, emotional and heavy/raw (not just the weights).