The it's Cardboard Therapy (Redux)

 

The following piece was originally written in 2019 while I was battling addiction. I am proud to say I am a recovering addict, and wanted to tell more of my backstory. The parts in italics serve as the added parts. Thanks.

Don’t thank me for my service! I did not join for gratitude! I was a 23 year old single dad who had ran out of options to support his son.

I was also coming from a background of abuse. I spent my childhood being mentally and physically abused by my mother and believed I was nothing but a failure. What else could one think after enduring a childhood that involved scalding hot scrambled eggs shoved in my face one morning when I was 8 years old. Or the time I was hit with a waffle iron because it was the closest thing my mom could reach. Let’s not talk about how she would find it funny to wrap her legs around our abdomen and squeeze so hard we struggled to breathe. Or How she used to deliberately slap me in the mouth when she was angry because she knew she would hit my braces through my lips. I needed an escape from a bad situation and the United States Navy provided it for me. 

Now 12 years later I along with many other veterans battle the long term effects of what at time can be crippling Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD).In my daily profession it was implied that I should not write about or discuss my PTSD because it could make people uneasy and uncomfortable around me! While my internal response  was "You think it's uncomfortable hearing about it?" "Well try fucking living with it every day!" Nevertheless I heeded the warning and stop sharing my experiences via social media. However, this is my blog and my rules!

 I will be the first to admit I never saw combat, yet a three year period of living in constant vigilance broke my psyche beyond repair.Being seperated from my family for 503 out of a possible 730 days caused an emotional strain each time I had to say Happy Birthday over the phone. It clearly was not just me that was damaged, because I personally know of 25 (now 29) people from the same ship who decided that taking their life was the only way out of the torment.

Collecting cards was never meant to be an escape! It was meant to be a way to familiarize myself with the hockey players I had recently begun watching on TV! I had always collected cards as a kid of the 90's. Hockey collecting did not begin until 2015. It was also a way to occupy my down time while recovering from hip surgery. Undiagnosed (at the time) PTSD, coupled with down time and narcotics could have been a lethal combination. Never did I see it becoming the passion it was when I was chasing every card I could in the junk wax era of the 90's.

     However without me knowing it those 2.5 by 3.5 inch cards became a coping mechanism to deal with the mental strain (and battles with lifelong addictions) life can occasionally dealt me. I have been careful to never let it become anything more than a hobby. Sitting in Hurricane Alley sorting cardboard brings me down after a tough day and allows me to decompress.

    It allows me to be the husband and father I need and want to be. Or what I thought I was before I realize I indeed struggle with addiction and sought help. I will never be able to recall what card it was that hooked me or why I decided to focus solely on Hockey (Now 90's Basketball). All I know is this hobby in some ways has centered me and gave me an escape when the realities of my condition (and addictions) become too much to bear.

    I have been blessed with an amazing wife and soulmate who understands my need to decompress after some days and never makes me feel guilty for spending a couple hours a night sorting wax. She appreciates having her husband back to my new normal. The normal that became the status quo upon my return from deployment (and newfound sobriety).

    I guess you could call this cardboard therapy for me because it allows me to breathe and feel normal. No matter what's going on in my world it provides the temporary escape I need to survive.I will never be normal ! I have accepted that! However, this hobby gives me what I need to feel at least like a normal person for a temporary time. All The Best!

The Big Orristotle