Another connection and realization.
In therapy, anger is a topic I'm exploring.
Along with that, triggers. But there's more to it than just ADHD. Not everything is ADHD but it can be related...correlations. In my mind, everything is inter-connected if you look closely enough.
As I was looking at new motorcycles to buy, ( been years now )....I asked a friend who rides for an opinion. We were talking about horse power, torque and all kinds of motorcycle stuff which led me to tell a story about a coworker and friend I use to ride with...Here's my story ( unedited ).
"My co-worker owned a K100 for years ( I ended up buying it )...
and he bought a brand new K1200 as an upgrade.
He proceeded to over throttle on a man hole cover on a corner and high sided into the pavement. Really fucked up his shoulder ...one that was already injured from being shot in Vietnam.
Then, he was down in the mountains in Northern California....and launched himself ( both wheels off the ground ) on a uneven piece of road and went endo with him and his bike together. Went unconscious...in the hospital for a week...punctured kidney...really fucked him up.
Needless to say, that power got him in trouble...it was too easy to push it just a little too far ( because it's there) and he's a fantastic rider...one of the best I've ever known.
He went back down to an S airhead for twisties with a little less torque and power. Just too tempting to use what the bike has to offer.
I'm taking a lesson from him. My ( his ) old K100 had about 88 or 90 hp for a 1 liter bike.....an 850cc with the same will be very responsive and less heavy. That was plenty of power for me before....I never felt underpowered although....A twin may not have the same torque. My K100 straight 4 had tons of torque!! "
Getting past the jargon. We were talking about high powered motorcycles that are factory reproduction racing bikes that you can buy off the showroom floor. Our egos are tempted...but the problem exists when there's that much power...and not to use it.
My story was about a Vietnam veteran who was shot, and nearly died in Vietnam. It was a horrific story of being ambushed in the jungle by Viet Cong. Almost his entire platoon was killed...he was lucky to even be alive.....age 18, just out of high school...been over there only two weeks...in the hospital for over a year. He had PTSD, in the worst of ways. He also had anger issues...working with him for almost 10 years.
More to come.
Comments
PTSD
"Yes, people with PTSD often experience dreams of being attacked, as their nightmares frequently replay elements of their traumatic experience, which can include scenarios like being physically assaulted or threatened. "
Last night, I had a vivid dream of being menaced and stalked by a man ( who looked like Jack Black ) wielding a long knife. This dream went on for quite a while, in fact, I woke my SO up three times screaming as I was running for my life and trying to hide from this stranger. The problem was ( in the dream ) I was living in my old house and this Jack Black character lived next door. There was no where to run to or hide because I was already home. And he kept reappearing, terrorizing me with the knife but never actually stabbing me. As my next door neighbor, there was no end to the dream...he was relentless, and I had no escape. Everytime I'd fall back asleep, he would reappear again.
These dreams for me are not uncommon. I've had dreams of being attacked all my life from a very young age. The most common are from wild animals: tigers, lions, bears, wolves....and I always wake up just before they kill me as I'm trying to run away.
Once, when I was a teenager, I dreamnt that a tiger was chasing me, I use to sleep walk back then, and woke up standing in our front yard ( in my underwear ) and my parents standing in the open front door looking at me. They said: " what are doung?" because they heard the front door open. I answered : " I was being chased by a tiger"...because I was, in my very vivid dream. And in order to get to our yard from the door meant vaulting a brick planter, like in hurdles in track.
I was going to talk more about my friend from Vietnam but this just happened so I thought I'd throw it in.
My friend, and motorcycle buddy, ended up being diagnosed with PTSD, years after his return. He denied he had PTSD until the doctors told him: "when you look up PTSD in the dictionary, there's a picture of you next to the description. " He ended up in group therapy with a bunch of Veterans, where he found, they almost all shared one thing in common: riding motorcycles and doing adrenaline sports.
When we use to ride together, he introduced me to the group he rode with who many, were War Vetrans and track racers. The one thing we all had in common was riding excessively fast. Fast enough ( 100+ mph ) that it's no longer a ticket but being arrested for reckless driving. Which meant, we all had to go far away from populated areas to isolated ones like the dessert ( in Western America ) so we wouldn't get caught.
The point was to go really fast, not to break the law. When going 120mph +...there's a feeling you cannot get any way else. It's the feeling of being "alive". So alive, there's no other way to get that same feeling. Nothing else, in my memory, can make me feel this way.
So when they say "Live to ride...and ride to Live"....that's exactly what they're talking about....better: "ride to feel Alive".
Ironically, doing something that can kill you, right in the edge of doing just that...is the only way to get that feeling.
My friend, since I knew him, has crashed at least 5 times, once, in excess of 100mph. In the group that we use to ride with: two had died on an annual ride, one ( I saw personally) got his sleepling bag caught in his rear wheel and crashes going about 90mph. He was really rattled but managed to make it into town. One guy, ran into a deer at night going 110mph...splitting the deer in half, but he managed to stay up and was unhurt.
These "war stories" of riders and crashes are retold around the fire at night. It's part of the comradery of the group, and what this group was all about. Riding on the edge, and living to tell the tale. And feeling more alive, than you ever felt before. That's the tacit understanding no one needs to say. because everyone knows why, its the "thing" that goes unspoken.
So to be clear...you can't get this feeling any other way. You can't get it from riding your motorcycle around town in traffic. You can't get it from riding down the highway at the speed limit or just above. The only way to get this feeling, is to ride in excess of 100mph....and possibly way more ( 130mph + ).
Which means, you choose motorcycles for this very reason. Not to look good, but to go really fast. Racing bikes will generally work.
So now, coming full circle. I've actually had my own "near misses" which never amounted to crashing. They were almost crashes, but I managed to stay upright. In motorcycle jargon the saying:" keep the rubber side down", is like a sailors send off the sea....not knowing if they will ever be seen again.
I quit riding at one point, because I realized I was getting older and my eyes and reflexes were'nt the same at before. ( a couple of near misses ).
In fact, I almost did the exact thing my buddy did, adding too much power on a wet road and my bike slide sideways and I was able to pull it back up. That wasn't all luck and a fair amount of skill ( from years of experience ) but!!!....it was because I was gassing it on, to get that feeling again. In just a brief moment of feeling that power.
This is why I quit. Not because I don't love it. In fact, this almost is a need you might say....because I can't get that "feeling alive" any other way. I miss that feeling....but I always want to live and not be mamed for the rest of my life.
The compromise:
Buying a lesser powered bike, riding the same as I do a car, and taking the enjoyment of of that....rather than nothing at all.
But that "need for speed " is always there. Because it's NOT...a need for speed. It's that need, because I'm pretty sure I have PTSD....to feel that feeling of "feeling alive".
My buddy pointed it out to me years ago...that he thought I had it. I mean, no wonder I fit right into that group, of ex-combat vets and track racers. It's like, I found my "peeps" almost instantly. And was immediately taken under their wing, and shown the finer points of riding excessively fast.
The second part of this has to do with triggers. When I feel like I'm being attacked, my panic attack starts to kick in.
When I was bullied in school and was actually hit....something inside me snapped...and I would hit back "hard". This wasn't a half hearted response. I was hitting that tiger as hard as I could, as if, my life depended on it. As a result, I didn't get bullied much despite the fact that being smaller ( at the time )...made me ( seemingly ) easy prey. I was "fiesty" in that respect...but I really wasn't fiesty at all. I was really afraid. I grew up being afraid.
My house, was not always a safe place to be. I was very afraid of my dad at most times. At the very least, he made me extremely nervous and very uncomfortable to be around.
And why? Because he physically attacked me. But that's not all. He physically attacked me, and he had contempt ( hatred for me ).
The physical attacks didn't hurt me really. I never suffered any real injury. But I never knew when they were coming...because I didn't understand why or what I did to deserve them. I grew up, walking on egg shells....and my only indicator, or way to know when to run or freeze up ( stop immediately what I was doing )...was when I sensed contempt. ( hatred )
When I felt contempt ( hatred ) I knew, bad things were going to happen. That's the kernel of truth right there.
And with my dad, I felt contempt all the time. I was ready to run at all times, because I knew what was coming next.
Like my dream last night. I had no where to go, and no where to run to feel safe....because I was already home.