That day was fucked. I’m not even sure who I’m supposed to be mad at. Some pissed off local, the taliban, the russians who might have dumped it 20 years prior. Who knows, and I guess at this point it doesn’t matter. We’ve left the country recently making little ground from when I was there 18 years before. One of my bigger fears shouldn’t manifest. My son fighting the same war as I fought. It being over is the best of what we got out of the whole time we were there. Bin Laden didn’t even die there. Can’t help but wonder how many Bin Ladens we created in our 20 year occupation. Young and idealistic I thought what we were doing mattered. What’s the legacy? The stock increases for Raytheon and Lockheed? Some people never met the lives they brought into this world. I feel obligated to do the most I can with my life not sure I’m accomplishing that goal. Gotta get up everyday and try though.

If I died today who would mourn

If I side hopped would it storm

If my heart stopped peace be born

Though at first it may look like pain

After the worst you will see gain

Know our course would see us change

Loves a sport but we’re in flames

When the resort is to start again

We had the best of times

I keep that in mind

When I look for the signs

A mirage I can find

It never fails to shine

Even in the deepest mine

Or this prison of my mind

Through this prism I’m blind

Hard to go on without what I’m

The most solid thing I had in this world is gone. With it everything else is shaking beneath my feet as well. The thing I had turned all my focus on, that I had dedicated all my attention to is now crumbling before my eyes. I don’t know what to do. I don’t know who to turn to. Even the roof over my head is questionable at this point. All I can do is wake up and do the best I can with what the day offers me. Which at this point isn’t much to inspire. I am though. Going through what feels justified in classifying as a tragedy I drag myself to each day with the energy of a zombie, plastering a fake smile on as much as I can. I soldier on because that’s all I know how to do. I have reached out for help. That call is going pretty unheeded at this point. Supposedly somebody will get back to me. With a government beauracracy that seems ever unlikely. I have found a little solace in the pen and pad that used to so fully consume my life. In some ways it’s also like pouring salt on a wound. This cocoon I’ve used to become semi recluse has betrayed me in the most unforgivable way. Being at odds with myself has put me there with everyone else. I wanted to be left alone. It looks like now I will be.

16 year old miscreant.

17 year old rifleman.

18 year old assistant gunner.

19 year old combat veteran.

20 year old sham artist.

21 year old combat leader.

22 year old lifer.

23 year old victim.

24 year old rehabilatator.

25 year old broke dick.

26 year old full time Dad.

27 year old expatriate.

28 year old dreamer.

29 year old minimum wager.

30 year old compromise.

31 year old sunny skies.

32 year old crashed his bike.

33 trying to revealuate life. Repurpose my time. I still have it so I need to sharpen my mind. Rested on my laurels thought I’d always be good. Saw it all come crashing down in an instance. Thankful that I can walk but it’s too late for me to stock shelves.

Gotta try something else totally left field. Got a year of school left thinking about heading back in Sep. Broadcasting or journalism maybe.

Can’t sit back too long and let everything fester. My mind will not improve hiding in my burrow, for whatever good it’s done my body.

I have what you could call an addictive personality. Whatever it is I can take it to excess.

Gaming, gambling, smoking, drinking, sex; if it’s an indulgence I can over do it.

Not sure if it’s a nature or nurture thing, but it’s my battle.

Balancing indulgence without developing dependence. I have a beast that needs to be fed. I have to feed it on a leash though.

I cant let it run loose anymore, there was a time and place for that.

Knowing what I know has kept me from going off the deep end when I’ve seen soooo many people take that dive.

It would have been easy too. The prescriptions were mine for the taking. I always rationed myself though and kept it from becoming a dependency.

With my most recent accident I leaned heavy on the weed to keep myself from being dependent.

Even that’s in decline of use though now. My legs are somehow still under me, and I’m still going.

Just a heads up I know I’ve been dark for awhile. Life’s a bastard but it won’t get me. Cheers

I think I’ve done it. I may have retreated so far within myself I’ve turned inside out and am unravelling.

Plateaued has probably been my status these last few months. I’ve been noncommittally excercising. Trying to rebuild my muscles waiting for muscle memory to reinforce the motion my nerves are fighting against.

I’ll say it’s a struggle.

My license expiring has been surreal. I let it go as it had been months since I’d driven. Before the accident I was only driving to work. Without work I haven’t been driving at all.

Driving was getting to be too much. Knowing I was about to drive was becoming enough to have me anxious.

I felt like I was playing Russian roulette with a car. The panic attacks I was having I could no longer catch my breath while driving. I was having to pull over which had worked out until this point. A close call or two. I’m sure I left some people cussing at me.

So when earlier this year I received the form to renew I decided I couldn’t do it. I would have to find alternatives. Which I could probably manage if we still lived in the city.

I got my bicycle lubed up, and although I have some issues feeling the pedals, I can for the most part just push down hard enough to keep my feet on board.

So that’s expanded my search range slightly. Cardio might keep getting it wider.

Going back to what I was doing isn’t really an option but I could swing a desk job. Haven’t quite worked anything out yet though.

So I’m doing my best house husband. Trying to help the kids and keep things up to snuff, emphasis on try. Never been my wheelhouse, but trying to make the most of it.

I spend too much time alone though. Coming from me that’s saying a lot. Yesterday talked to the bike store lady for way too long. Gotta keep it together.

Signed H.D. from the bottom of the wall.

“Dad doesnt ever smile laugh or play with me.”

“Living with someone with PTSD you never see them smile.”

I’ve felt like this so long, I can’t really remember feeling any other way. A huge portion of my life I’m on autopilot. Maybe it’s the training. Ive heard people talk before about the training taking over. My memory is such a blurry haze I cant recall it happening to me.

Maybe I can train myself to smile though.

I often feel things are going well, only to realize that things feel that way because I’m withdrawing. I find solace in my isolation. In that comfort is the danger of not being able to leave it.

Does it matter if I smile when no ones around to see it?

What I do recall comes in waves, sometimes gently rolling up to me. Other times crashing beating me down and reshaping me. My memory being what it is it’s unreliable as well. I’ve found myself carrying guilt for things that weren’t the way I remember.

Smile, because it’s never really that bad.

It’s never the combat that eats me. That’s what I signed up for. What’s haunted me most has been the non combatants. The by-standers who ate shrapnel meant for us. The victims of the civil war going strong while we stood on the sidelines.

Smile for the people we saved.

After one such incident, I carried an unnecessary burden for years. I was the driver in the lead vehicle. We were coming from behind a building and getting back onto the road. A wall and trees blocked even my gunners field of view.

Smile for the beautiful day it was.

As soon as my tires hit the road a car collided with our front end at a high rate of speed. We didn’t budge. A turn signal marker was cracked. Not the light itself but the plastic cover.

Smile, because we were okay.

The locals car windshield was maybe a foot from the truck. Majority of the front passenger side of their vehicle was stuffed under our vehicle.

Smile to try and give them the impression they’re going to be alright.

My immediate impression was the front passenger was gonna die and the other 3 occupants didn’t appear much better. Our medic started providing first aid. I ended up pulling security near my vehicle while we now cordoned off the accident vehicle.

Smile and do your job.

I can’t remember if I moved the vehicle or if it was moved for me. I do remember looking back too often and telling myself to pull security. Especially once the popshots started.

Smile none of us got hit.

For years I thought those guys died. Only when I did a paper on the incident years later was I able to close the loop. Corresponding with my former platoon leader and platoon sergeant I got answers to questions I guess I never asked. Our medic was able to stabilize all 4 of them. They lived.

Smile we’re still in touch.

My point being, that while digging through the past can hurt, there can also be closure there. We all carry the weight of our decisions and thier impact on the world. We don’t need to shoulder additional weight.

Smile because it really wasn’t that bad.

We all do the best we can with the information available at the time. When seconds matter, having years to second guess can be grueling.

Smile because we still have the option.