Category: Veterans & Life After Service
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Tips On How To Smile.
“Dad doesnt ever smile laugh or play with me.” “My oldest son around 7 years old” “Living with someone with PTSD you never see them smile.” “My wife” 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.…
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Now what?
Since I got out the army my family has noticed I’m fairly good at maintaining my situational awareness. When I go places I pay attention for exits, I evaluate the threat capacity of all my fellow patrons, and I sit with my back to the wall so I have best field of vision. Doing so…
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Top 5 things I miss about the army.
Not gonna be too worried about structure with this one. Not that I ever am but here we go. #5 Starting off with something you won’t hear to often, the pay. It’s a little ironic, because I started writing this after coming across a note I had wrote while in the Army. Reasons I won’t…
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Never be cool like we used to be
When I was 17, I was a badass infantryman, anxious to do what I was trained to do. To close with and destroy the enemy. To kick ass, take names, and notch belts. Now I’m 32 and I shovel poo. Door kicking isn’t just a title. It was my way of life. It’s what pulled…
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Walking amongst heroes.
Cheers to the dead. They’re the only ones whose war is truly over. A big part of my reservation about making these blog posts is I want to be candid, but I don’t want to dishonor my comrades or their memories. Exposing my wounds is my decision. I can live with whatever consequences may come.…
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I’m not bitter
Some people might think I regret my time in the Army. Truth is, I don’t. I volunteered, reenlisted, and if my body held up, I’d still be in. I even loved the deployments—the rush, the purpose, the brotherhood. But I didn’t join to serve a noble cause. I joined to escape. I’d like to say…
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Opening old wounds.
This Is Gonna Hurt No matter how hard you tug, it’s not coming off fast. I’ve been picking at these scabs for a long time. Every now and then, after I get good and drunk, I find myself walking down memory lane with someone. Enthusiastically recalling my glory days. By the end, I’m half, maybe…
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PTSD on the Smaller Scale
This is my second post, but it’s actually the first one I wrote. As I was writing I thought there might be more people feeling like I was. That’s what took this from me thinking I’d keep a journal to sharing it as a blog. I’ve been putting off writing this blog, blurb, or essay.…
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Transitioning.
My life after door kicking. I’ll be coming up on 10 years post military life. I thought I made the transition within a few months of seperation. Now, almost 10 years out, I have realized that in some ways I am still transitioning. From my expectations of co-workers, the way I attack both my personal…
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