So, after smoking a bowl last night, June 26th, 2017, I began writing this short essay for my readers, especially for those who are suffering from PTSD and/or other mental health issues.

If you insist in suffering alone, should you be looked upon as a selfish person? Or are you being brave in your quest to protect your loved ones from the pain and suffering you feel? Or are they the selfish ones?

We all have, at one time or another, felt the agony and despair of depression and loneliness. As children we should normally be able to share with our parents, and even with older siblings, the questions we have regarding life and living.

The raw emotional feelings that tend to tear us down tend to be hidden from sight when we are very young. That means unless a parent or someone else is keen to observe and react, for so many children, the cause and effect is unseen and goes untreated.

For a normal child, the parent or sibling attempts to comfort and assure us that everything will be okay. If you are normal, as you are growing up, you overcome the negative with the help of friends and others who influence us in a positive manner. If the parents are loony tunes, chances are the normal child is going to be learning some bad shit.

If you are truly suffering from a mental illness for whatever reason, and no one is there to advise and help you, you do your best to survive and thrive, or you fail in utter misery. It is a situation that has always been there, just not recognized up until recently.

You see the abuse, but you have a hard time understanding what it is. Or you are part of the abusive chain of behavior, found not only in our homes, but in our churches and schools. Ask a pedophile Priest .

Soldiers in wartime who experience and survive battles against an adversary are not the only people that can potentially suffer from PTSD. Think about the Syrian child that loses his parents to the violence and in her survival discovers that she is an orphan with a couple of missing limbs.

How about the abused child that is raised in the horror and insanity of a home life scourged by drugs and addiction? That child is eventually determined to be a loss by normal society, and becomes enveloped in the very hell that they could have escaped. Not even a 50/50 chance, I’ve seen it.

How many thousands of victims are out there? In our neighborhoods, in war-torn distant lands? In my case, my mental condition growing up in an extremely violent home, caused PTSD from early childhood. However, I was one of the fortunate ones, resilient in spite of hardships, able to live a seemingly normal life.

I’m not going to list all the wonderful, positive things that have happened in my life, and likewise, I’m not going to list all the bad shit and throw a “Pity Party” either. We all know the good things we experience in life, and we hold them in our memories.

When we reminisce about the good times, those pleasant memories give us that warm, smiley feeling, even laughter at times. We all have experience with the things that happen in our lives that are considered “Bad”, evil, or just plain shitty and the corresponding negative memory associated with them, which some of us try very hard to forget.

When you get older, as in my case almost 68 now, and your brain has suffered from the physical damage of three different strokes, and you inherently couple that with your childhood PTSD, and your lifelong experiences and memories of what I call “The Good, the Bad, and the sometimes downright Ugly”, surviving, even living, becomes a much more difficult accomplishment.

In my case, with the occurrence of three separate strokes, it’s a whole different ballgame that changed dramatically a year and a half ago when I started writing. Prior to that, I was less likely to understand the who what and why of life.  Now I do. That’s why I write.

Not just to document my experiences, but to share those experiences with others who may be suffering. Writing IS therapy for me. It will help you too. Denounce and abandon the “Bad and the Ugly” in your life, and take ownership of the good, and write about it.

If you are having a hard time understanding what I am telling you, take a piece of paper, or open up a Word Document in your computer. Make two columns in your Word Doc, (or draw a line down the middle of the paper). On the left side of the doc/paper, list all the things that you KNOW in your mind and spirit to be negative, like the word, HATE. On the right side, write the word or words that are the exact opposite, like, Left side HATE…..right side, LOVE. Left side, UNFORGIVENESS, right side, FORGIVENESS…..ANGER or PEACE. I will come back to this little exercise later.

I regress. The last couple of weeks had been a little difficult for me, and my condition of mind, had kept me from writing. For those of you that are by nature, ignorant and negatively biased, mental illnesses, mental dysfunctions, ARE real, and if you have a loved one who is suffering from some psychotic illness, you need to look at the right side of the paper today and give that person the benefit of the doubt, i.e., LOVE…..not HATE.

So, after smoking a bowl last night, June 26th, 2017, I began writing this short essay for my readers, especially for those who are suffering from PTSD and/or other mental health issues.

I don’t believe that we are created “Evil” or “Sinful” as religion teaches us. The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly are there for us, and we do have a lot of choices. How we interpret our actions to begin with, and how we react, are partially instinct associated with our level of existence, i.e., part of our genes (Homo Sapiens) and partially taught/learned because we are smart enough to do that.


In many war-torn areas of our planet we call Earth, children as young as five or so are handed an AK-47 and “taught” how to “kill” other human beings. Excuse my language as I say, “How fucking crazy is that?

In other parts of the world, children are taught how to kill food…..Like deer, because that is part of their culture. In certain rural parts of America, children are taught gun safety, as part of our culture, so we can shoot that fox that’s been raiding the chicken coop. I earned my NRA Membership Card when I was seven years old, haven’t killed anybody in a lunatic rage.

Take a closer look at the so-called domestic terrorist. We know that at least a few of them had pre-existing mental issues that could have been treated. Should we really be allowing nut jobs to legally purchase a firearm or two, or twelve? How about treating their mental illness instead of handing them a Glock?

Guns themselves are not evil, the gun is only the tool the nut job uses to express his point of view. I would limit the number of rounds allowed in a semi auto clip to six. The same as an old western style cowboy six-shooter. Just how sporting is it to shoot at a Whitetail Deer using a thirty-round clip.

Here’s something for you to think about. How many NRA card carrying female gun enthusiasts have flipped out and killed a bunch of people with their AR-15?


So, back to this thought of good versus bad. I didn’t take that toy car from the other three year old because I planned and executed a sinister and evil plot to “steal” from the other child. I really didn’t know any better. I just wanted the toy, and in my childish actions and thoughts, had no concept of the “concept” of ownership, or any idea whatsoever what theft was until my mother walked me next door to give that toy car back.

As I handed the car over to Billy, and said, “Here, take your fuckin car asshole, I don’t want it anyway”…….. NOT REALLY FOLKS, JUST A LITTLE COMIC RELIEF HERE (we were only three years old)……I actually told Billy I was sorry that I took his car home that day, and we gave each other a big hug.

Why did I tell him I was sorry when I handed him his car? Mother told me that’s what you do and say in that situation, so I did it, said it, and learned that you don’t take someone else’s property.

Believe it or not, I eventually learned what “stealing” is, understanding that taking Billy’s toy car, didn’t automatically make it my toy car, and I also learned what it’s like to ask forgiveness, and being forgiven.

Learning that lesson, “Thou shalt not steal” has absolutely nothing to do with religious dogma when you are three years old. It does have everything to do with what makes us human, how we naturally learn and grow. Oh, and guess what? Mom said that I would “Feel” better after giving the toy car back to Billy.

I did “feel” something, that Mom said would be a “Good” feeling, but I also still had questions about the concept of “Ownership”, and still thought that little toy Ford belonged to me only because I wanted it. It only took a few more incidences for me to fully understand what I had been questioning in my mind about the legality of ownership, i.e., “Mine” versus “Yours”, “Naughty” versus “Nice”, “Good” versus “Bad”. Especially when my step-father took off his belt and gave me a few swats.

Even though the violence in our house overshadowed most of the good things that you can think of when you are growing up, I can totally relate to all of the good things that I experienced that remain positive influences in my life.

My mother wasn’t perfect, she had her human faults, but she was a normal, good person, a good mother with a good heart, with good values, and that is a close enough to perfect memory for me. She also was a victim. Finally died from the physical abuse, literally at the hands of my step-father (that’s another whole story about insanity and forgiveness).

Fifteen years was too short a time with her. It would have been great to have her wisdom and love for more of my life, but she was taken far too soon, and by time she died, my PTSD related experiences as a child had turned me into a teenager with a few mental issues that went un-noticed by EVERYBODY.

I’m not saying I was some psychotic person looking to shoot a bunch of kids at school. I’m just saying that after Mom died, I was in need of some kind of professional help, which I never received.

It wasn’t until I recently started writing that I recognized my early life for what it was. My middle life for what it was, my later life leading up until today for what it is.

One line down the middle of the page. I choose to live my life using the words from the right side of the paper. I enjoy, therapeutirize myself with teaching about these good karma ideas, and what they can do to change ourselves, and help change others, and together, change the world.

If you take the time to read my blog, you will see that I believe we can “learn” to be CIVILIZED, instead of SAVAGE.

It is our choice. So choose LOVE instead of HATE. SYMPATHY instead of APATHY.


Turn your life around, spread the word, share the love and fulfillment with others. Oh, and by the way, this is NOT some kind of religious mumbo-jumbo. More evil has been spread, more people have died by mankind’s antiquated idea of religion than any other reason or source.

Altruism, i.e., kindness brings happiness, and healing, the opposite of this is hatred and intolerance which brings despair and suffering – Dr. T. C. Saxe, DD

Here’s one of the most important letters I have ever written to someone. Please follow this link. If you don’t mind, please share the following page after reading:

Letter to the Rolling Stones

Strain: GrannysBraSweat, harvested June 3rd, 2017

For those of you that have enjoyed reading my posts and pages, and would like to make a small donation in support of my writing efforts and intentions, I have now set up a PayPal account for you to contribute $1 or so, or you can send some homemade Venison Jerky or Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups , your donation is 100% tax deductible.



Thank you