Help A Vet Overcome His PTSD

So I really don’t like asking for help, so I going to try to make this as humorous as possible to take the sting out of it a little bit…And I’m going to try to abandon my pride, guilt, stubbornness, and basic desire to never ask for help, and ask for help…at least until this GoFundMe thing is all over.

So here it goes: I’m crazy.  The kind of crazy where nowhere feels safe.  I could be in a church and think a gang of armed thugs were going to shoot up the place so they can get their hands on some of that holy water.  The kind of crazy where I want to surround myself with guns and booby traps but spaz if I see a cop with a gun.   I’m so crazy that I don’t ever want to have sex again out of fear that Jennifer Lawrence will go crazy during her orgasm and garrote me…again.   I can go on forever, but the point is that it is so debilitating that oftentimes I think that it is not worth going on any longer.  The work just isn’t worth the reward. 

My psychologist says that I have PTSD from when I was in the Marines.  I’m still convinced it’s from banging your mom.  Maybe we’re both right.  You can look up the symptoms of PTSD, but the main ones for me are panic attacks, constant anxiety (to include hypervigilance, hyperarousal, catastrophizing, nightmares), and intrusive thoughts.  That last one is quite the evil little b*tch.  All of this has led to me feeling like someone or something is always out to get me.  I recently lived in an RV thinking that if I ever felt unsafe, I could just move to another location.  While somewhat effective, it wasn’t the fix I needed….often I still felt unsafe. 

And I’ve done lots of treatment.  In the last three years, I’ve been in seven inpatient programs to try to get some help suppressing some of the crazy.  As I write this, I’m sitting in a hospital room trying to get help through the VA.  I've tried about all the meds available to the VA with nothing working.  I've even tried the Mary Jane, the Wacky Tobacky, the Devil's Lettuce to no avail.  Over this last treatment, I’m starting to think that nothing will help ME get better, so maybe I need to make my situation/environment get better.

That’s where you special little snowflakes come in.  I want to build a cabin (well, a whole homestead really, but I’m not asking for THAT much) on my sister’s property where there is the unlikely chance that it will get nuked, be run over by gay terrorists (or even sad terrorists for that matter), where I’ll be shot, killed, maimed, robbed, shot, defrauded, get pregnant, shot, picked last for soccer, or accidently join WASWAS. 

I’m hoping some of you could help me out with the money to buy the tools I need to build my own timber frame cabin (and maybe a toilet or showerhead or sink to go with it).  Because it will be timber framed, using trees off my sister’s property, it should be really cheap, I just need tools like a chainsaw, regular saw, hand saw (actually there’s a surprising amount of saws needed…whodathunkit?), mallet, brace, augers, etc. and some equipment like a generator, heater, wife (or husband...beggars can't be choosers), etc. 

Working on this cabin will help me in four different ways:  Being out in nature and occupied in such a positive way on a worthy task will help me immensely cope with my PTSD, hopefully keeping my mind occupied enough to not have the bad thoughts that lead to the incapacitating anxiety.  Second, getting the skills to do this may help me to start my own business doing the same thing for other people.  That way, I might be able to stop sucking off the teat of the beautiful lady that is the USA (i.e. VA disability) and earn my own income (not that I mind the sucking, I just haven’t worked those muscles very much in my life….don’t ask me about college though….that doesn’t really count….I really needed the money).  ****Fourthly, and the most important, is that having my own homestead, off grid, I can reduce the chance that I spiral out of control and need to be hospitalized again because I won't be constantly triggered by my environment****.  I can’t and don’t want to live the life of a recluse, but pursuing this path is the best chance for me to live a somewhat fulfilling life again.

So because I’m temporarily forsaking my pride already, I’m just going to go ahead and ask for $3000.  Now if that threshold is hit, I’m going to raise that threshold higher and higher until I milk as much money as I can out of you all so I never have to ask for money again (See?  That’s my nonexistent pride talking).  If getting more than $3K means that I can also have indoor plumbing, then Imma gonna get indoor plumbing.  If getting more than $3K means that I can get solar power so I can watch my “stories,” then Imma gonna get solar power.  If getting more than $3K means buying my own private, Zombie-proof, hipster-resistant, man-bun-intolerant Caribbean island, then this b*tch is gonna get a Zombie-proof, hipster-resistant, man-bun-intolerant Caribbean island.

In exchange for any donation over $1, I will have sex with anyone in your family, your choice.  That’s legal now, right?  Sexual favors in exchange for money?  Anyways, offer does not apply if prostitution is still illegal in your state or I just don’t want to.

P.S. If in six months or a year I start another GoFundMe, this time asking help funding a large rum purchase, then you’ll know that you’re a stupid idiot, you’ve wasted your money on me, and can rightfully swear off donating to anyone ever again.  On a positive note though, if that happens, you’ll can be 100% sure that any donation towards the rum would go directly to helping ease the suffering of a vet, guaranteed. 

P.P.S. Did you notice that earlier I said I was going to state four different ways your donation would help, but I only provided three, but still said “fourthly”?  Who does that?  Who says “fourthly”?  A crazy person, that’s who.  Please donate or share :)