So as of yesterday I've been out of the Army for two years. It's one of those things that feels simultaneously like just a couple weeks ago and an eternity since I got booted out: not long ago, because I don't know why; forever ago, because what's gotten better, what have I accomplished, what the fuck have I been doing since then?

It's not something I like to talk about because I don't like worrying anybody, because I don't like the "how are you doing?" questions even though I know they're sincere, because it makes me feel more like shit than usual. It's also something I haven't really updated anyone on in a while, so I guess I owe it to youse guys.

Right now, I'm officially diagnosed with degenerative disc disease with associated muscle strain and scarring in my neck and upper back, and high blood pressure. The first I was awarded when I was kicked out, the second a couple months ago. There's also a bulging disc midway up my back. I've had physical therapy, chiropractors, electrostimulation, and several sets of steroid injections. None of it has helped, and the injections have actually made the pain and my mobility worse.

In the works somewhere in the vast catacombs of the VA bureaucracy are claims for chronic depression, PTSD, and screwed up knees, all of which have been denied once already. Even though I'm seeing a psychiatrist, with all kinds of sitting notes about how screwed up I am, apparently I'm not depressed. For the PTSD, while they can document that nasty shit went down in Ba'qubah in 2004, I seem to be the only person in the world with the paperwork that says *I* was there - and that paperwork is in storage in El Paso, being held ransom by the Army because they're fucktards. And though my knees ached while I was in service, I never went to the doctor about them - seriously, who in the military does? This makes the claims process harder, though, because they'll claim the damage happened after I was out.

I've also self-diagnosed myself with narcolepsy, complete with whacked-out REM cycles, rapid-fire and extremely vivid waking dreams, and frequent sleep paralysis. This is fairly new, and since all of my appointments are so far apart I haven't been able to bring it up to my shrink yet. The sleep paralysis is absolutely terrifying, and I can understand why people who get it think they're being abducted by aliens. The other night was particularly bad, so I started testing it. I would let myself start to nod off, which is when it was happening for me. Even though I was conscious, could think clearly and could still see the room, I simply couldn't move. I tried screaming, yelling, moaning, anything, and I was stuck staring at whatever I ended up being pointed towards until it either wore off or I fell fully asleep.

Even without all that, though, all is not well in Scottingham. Standing and walking is hard, so my job choices are limited, and I have even less of a social life than I used to. Right now I'm a courier, which I'm going to have to stop doing soon because sitting down most of the day is apparently too strenuous for me. I'd have chosen something else before, but I don't really have any experience in anything else. I'd have started going to school, because the VA and my GI bill covers my tuition, but I don't have the money to pay the rent if I stop working full-time-and-a-half. Because of how I was discharged, I received a lump sum advance on my disability checks - they were slated to start up again in January 2009, but they seem to have changed their minds and started last month instead. This would be a big help, except my Saturday route was cut at the same time so now I'm essentially back to where I was money-wise.

I'm also dumber than I used to be. My scrambled brain won't let me concentrate on anything. When I can, I can't think as fast as I used to. My memory was never the greatest, but I feel senile half the time because I can't remember a stupid word, or that song I was just thinking of, or what I walked into the next room for. I forget to do things, I can't finish a story, I can't for the life of me think of the third thing in this list. I still read as much as I can, both on paper and on the intarwebs, but not again nearly as fast as I used to be able to. My mind was one of the things I've always kinda sorta liked about myself, and even that is slowly turning to mush as time goes on.

Thing is, all that would sort itself out if my back weren't fucked up. I'd be able to work at jobs that pay well, so money wouldn't be an issue. Since money wouldn't be an issue, I'd be able to go to school. I wouldn't feel like shit, because I'd be accomplishing things and able to exercise and go do fun stuff. The blood pressure and depression would go away. I could get back on with my life, which would be nice for once, not stuck another two-year timewarp. But since my back is fucked up, none of that is possible. There's no promise on the horizon, no hope, I just get to look forward to a series overworked doctors who can't do shit for me. I don't even know why I keep going, nothing ever gets better.

Anywho, time to wind this up with the good ol' running-into-a-brick-wall ending. Bye.