PTSD Recovery Expedition Day 5 – Who’s the Punk Bitch Now ?
My very first thought, intention, and biggest goal driven dream was to flip this tire all over these mountains for as long as it took to regain my strength, health, sobriety, most importantly my sanity and one day I would return to civilization and prove to each and every person who cold heartedly stabbed me in the back, those who laughed at me when I was down, those who through me out to the curb and slammed the door in my face, those who lied and walked away and left me for dead, those who fired me and those who just took took took until I had absolutely nothing more to take, show each one of those so called friends, teammates, brothers who didn’t bat an eye at my losses and pain while my family suffered in silence.
Those who misguided me down the dead end streets and the 3 faced crooks who wrote the scripts, those who wrongfully judged, convicted, sentenced and executed me to and even deeper, darker, more torturous grave than the one I had already found myself struggling to breath in while buried up to my throat in many years of following all the rules, laws, procedures, with my nose in the ass of all the other donkeys on the same trail.
I would one day return and show each one of them who’s the Real – Mother – Fucking – Boss.
Driven by vengeance, hatred and a lustful desire to taste their blood, while I stood over each and everyone one of them with one foot on their chest, a grin and smile on my face as they begged for their lives, no mercy for their tears, sword in their throat with one eye brow raised watching their pitiful sadness trickle down their cheeks, tear after tear relieves my pain, allow them at the least this very moment the gift of suffering and remind them what they have caused.
Listen to their screams as they buckle to their knees like the cowardly little bitches they are for they know nothing but sneak, lies and betrayal.
Watch them slither like a headless snake right back into the very grave they once happily, carelessly, selfishly handed me a shovel to dig.
Never once did I think for a second, not with one single breath that instead, upon my return I would Love them, Thank them, Forgive them, Help them and find gratitude for the sins they unknowingly placed upon my soul. For the lesson I was to learn about myself, was my responsibility, I needed to be held accountable for my own wrong doings rather than place the blame and point the fingers at everyone else.
The hurt, disrespect, agony, sadness and struggles that lead me to this tire at the bottom of my grave was simply a mirror reflection of myself.
As I leaned over to pick it up and flip it for the first time , the very first step out from the depths of darkness in search of hope, freedom, revenge and happiness I could barely even get my a grip on this hunk of dirty old tire , up to one knee, then with all my strength and let out a war cry, fully committed to this one last battle for my life I nearly dropped it but dug my half done up boots deep into the gravel and gave it all I had.
As the tire flopped on its back, I nearly buckled over in defeat as I stood bent in half, hands on my hips, hadn’t eaten for weeks and still going through heroin, meth and cocaine with drawls, 40 pounds under weight, bones sticking out of my caved in face I then collapsed on the tire and gave up. I looked up to the universe with tears in my eyes then lowered my head in shame.
Who’s the cowardly little punk ass bitch now ?
2014
They were right, i’m just a drug addict, i’m no George St. Pierre or Matt Hughes UFC Champion, merely just a pathetic, weak ex convict who just couldn’t make it in the world, not nearly strong enough or have what it takes to survive and make something of myself.
I leaned my elbows onto my knees and 1/2 curled up completely defeated.
I am alone with no friends, no life, no career, not a penny to my name not even power in my home nor gas in the tank, not even the mice rummage the cupboards anymore, theirs just nothing left, not in my mind, my heart, nor my soul .. spiritually disconnected. This is the bottom.
My very last hope and attempt at continuing to live, just got flipped straight into the ground once again
I walked away from that stupid tire, tapped out like a bitch … forget about it.
Your Friend, Our Voice
Terrance J. Kosikar
Photos By:
Jillian A. Brown Photography
Proudly Partnered with:
The Surrey Firefighters Charitable Society
Surrey Honda
MEC
VSSL
Nesters Market
Erogogenics
Kal Tire
Escape Route