I never should have made it this
Far. I don't know why I've kept
Going, it just adds more problems
The longer I go on. I think of those
Who quit, and I understand why...

The PTSD and TBI were the start
Of it all. The migraines and the
Nightmares were the first troubles.
Sleepless nights and days filled with
Agonizing pain were the life I knew.

Then was my heart, and the doctor
Who said I was fine. Then to find
Out that I was literally on the edge
Of dying. God cursed me and kept
Me alive to fix it so life could go on.

Pancreatitis was next and a year of
Miserable pain spending half of every
Month in hospital. Drugged out of my
Mind to be able to deal with the pain
Surgery sort of fixed it but not really.

Then came the chronic pancreatitis and
EPI. Finding out I would need to take the
Enzymes because it was too long and the
Damage was permanent. Back to being
In and out of hospital every few months.

During this time, I lost my soul to the oxy
And morphine that I needed to survive.
I became a shell of a person, and just existed
Day by day. I didn't even comprehend what
Was happening while everyone else saw it.

Finally, has come the diabetes and all that it
Gives me to look forward to. Losing my toes
Or foot, maybe a leg up to the knee? Fuck it,
I don't want to keep going this way anymore.
I give up, I've fought my fight and I've lost.

It's time to cease the struggle, because that's
All my existence is. I ran out of strength and
I don't want to struggle any more. It's time to
Surrender and be done. I'm sorry for those I
Leave behind. I wish this wouldn't hurt you.

Good-bye my friends

FACES IN THE DARK

I see your faces most nights in 

My dreams. You won't ever be

Forgotten, and I'm not the only

One. Your families, friends and 

All who served feel your loss.

I face those demons, and I have 

Been so close as well. I tell others

To call, but I didn't either. I just

Managed to bring myself back 

From the edge. I was just lucky.

Remember, if you read this that 

There are people who love and 

Care for you. Don't ever believe 

That you're bothering us, it's 

That Demon and he is a liar.

If it's four a.m., then call, and we 

Can go get breakfast. I'll stay

Up all night, whatever you need.

The oath we swore had a hidden 

one that made us Brothers for life.

I know if I need it you will do it

For me. Just call me, and let me 

Do it for you. I'll take a sleepless

Night over not having you around.

If you're reading this it applies t you.

I don't know what's happening to me. I used to think I was normal, but everyday I am like Jekyll and Hyde. Most everyone sees me as a nice guy, but my wife knows the monster that lurks inside. She knows the fear that he invokes, and the terror that he instills. He isn't one to hurt physically, all his wounds are hidden on the psyche. He belittles, berates and abuses; and God help her if she tries to reason or to argues with him.

She calls him "Soldier Guy", and he is a perfect one. His only goal is to destroy anything that is in his path, and if he finds a weakness then you can be sure that he will use it against you. I never remember him being a part of me until about 4 years ago, but maybe he was part of the professional soldier in me. After I retired maybe he got locked away until he decided that he wanted back out to cause more mischief, mayhem and destruction.

Nightmares

The nightmares started long
Ago. It seemed like I had just
Arrived in Iraq. They became 
A part of daily life, I kept them 
Secret so no one would know.

Coming home, they got worse.
Two weeks later, and Parrish 
Would be lost. He joined the 
Dreams, "why was it me and
Not you?" All he ever asked.

Two years later, Rowan took
His life and he would join in
Dreams. When I was barely 
Hanging on, he would come
And tell me he'd found peace.

Now the nightmares are of
My son Andrew, and I see 
Him in what I went through.
The idea he might face the
Same and worse my fear.

LOSING THE FIGHT

There comes a time when our
Strength runs out. You can battle
And fight through it for so long,
When the battle becomes too
Much to continue to struggle.

My strength is gone, and I just
Don't have anymore left inside
Me. It is time for me to give up
And I just don't want to fight.
I decided it's time to quit, now.

Ten years, I have struggled in
Dealing with PTSD And TBI. It
Was almost two years ago, that
Pancreatitis was added to the
Mix. I've still kept fighting on.

Then I came to get help for my
PTSD, and found I would have
To fight to stay to get help. They
Keep saying go home, and come
Back when my health's better.

Next, it took one nurse to cause
A shit storm. Ever since I've lived
Back in the constant pain that I
Thought I left behind. So much
For the help I was looking for.

Now it is time to quit, because I
Don't have the strength in me to
Keep fighting. Where I go from
Here? Who cares? I'm just going
To quit, the rest doesn't matter.

Fear of a New Beginning

Soon it begins again, the
Dread is inside of me, and 
I wonder if I'm opening 
Pandora's Box this time. Will 
It be the one that breaks me?

I think of the old song, but
For me "I lost parts of my 
Body and parts of my mind. 
It was written for Vietnam 
Vets, but still applies for ours.

It has been 11 years since I 
Locked up this box. I never 
Wanted to open it again, but
I have to. The demons inside 
Are screaming to be loosed.

I, also, have to deal with Ro
And with LeRoy and feelings
Of guilt that both of them still
Hold over me. It may not be 
Logical to others, it is for me.

I know I'm in the place where 
I can deal with these things in
The safest and best way. I am 
Surrounded by vets, counselors 
and staff who'll help if I need it.

There will be days it will break 
Me down, but I know that I have 
The support all around me when
I need it. Just as I will do it for my
Brothers and sisters in time of need.

Some dreams come and go. This
Was the dream that lasted us thru
The years. It was our dream and
Now the dream is gone. I feel like
I have lost a part of myself now.

I don't know what to do without
That inside me. I feel hollow and
Empty, and I know I can keep on
Going on. I just don't know if it is
Worth going on or if I want to.

I've lost so much thru  the years,
But to lose this too? At some point
It just becomes too much, and I
Can only take so much. This is
Getting really close to that point.

I sit here wondering what I have
Left to hold on to? Being a soldier?
Gone. My kids? Grown up. My
Health? Wrecked. My marriage
And the dream? Destroyed by me.

One thing left to hold on to. Will I
Hold on a day, month, year or
Decade before I let go? I know I
Eventually will. When I do at least
Then I know the hurting stops .

TWENTY TWO A DAY

I felt the coldness of the steel
Pressed underneath my chin.
It sent a shiver through me, and
I felt a sudden calm and clarity.
It all made sense in that moment.

I was so close just about four and
A half pounds of pressure was all
It would take. No more worries, no
More stress, no more pain and no
More problems to bother me again.

My finger touched the trigger, and
I felt it calm me even more. Before
My brain could fire the synapse that
Would end it, it lowered the gun and
I started to shake and then I bawled.

I realized then how deceptive that the
Calm had been. I knew then how I had
Lost friends I had loved. I forgave them,
And thanked God for saving me from
Doing that to my family and friends.

For all the Veterans who reach that point.
Don't give into that calm, it is fucking lying
To you. It is not the answer, and no solution.
You are just going to leave a world of hurt
Behind for those who'll miss and love you.

Demons Unleashed

It has been a long time since I have been here to write. I am going to start using it more, because I need to get my thoughts and emotions out more regularly. Battling PTSD and depression along with TBI is not aan easy thing.

I feel like I am all alone at times even though I have a loving wife and son who try to help me, along with my psych and social worker at the VA. At times though it does not seem to do any good at all.

My wife is scared of me, because of my mood swings at ttimes. And my son doesn't talk to anyone, just sits in his room playing Xbox.

Peace thru Sacrifice and Determination

Every Tuesday morning an ending, and a new

Beginning. We all have a different story, but 

We are all one and the same. They say we have 

A disorder, but we have a disease. There is no 

Cure, but we come here to learn how to fight it.

Whether we are soldiers, sailors, airmen or 

Marines; We have been where others feared to

Tread. Some of us signed up to do the job, for

The 'Nam Guys most were chosen by their dear

Friends and Neighbors. Some friends to have, huh?

In a way, it is like going back to basic training or 

Reporting to a new unit. A few hours or a day or 

Two, and you have made new buddies that will be

Friends for life. We share our stories privately, the 

Smoke room is sanctuary and it's walls guard us.

201 is our second home, and we spend hours in 

Group. Sara, Corey, Doctor Rod and Katey give

us skills for our new battle that our more important to

Saving our lives. Becky has grief & loss, and battle 

Weary warriors are brought to tears by haunting pasts.

The nurses have the toughest job of all. They are with 

Us round the clock and on weekends. Whether we are 

With them for two weeks or two months, they get to 

Know us and then they have to say good-bye. Yet They

All give us everything that they have everyday we're there.

Thanks to the couselors, nurses, and staff of the Jack H Wisby Jr. Clinic

and to my roommate William, Bill Patton, Bob Clifford, Uncle Bob, Jerry, Tom Marcello,

Brian Tromblee, Uncle Brian, John Portik, John Mortsok

Batavia

I never took it seriously in and acted like it
Was all a game. Humor kept me from the 
Thoughts of what would happen when if I 
Made a mistake. I loved the Husky the best,
Because then it was me alone. Only I paid.

It was never a thought of the future, and what
It would be like. The nightmares were already
There, and I came home with all my parts so 
I was fine. Then it all began, and it has gotten 
Worse. The sensitivity to lights, the headaches
And the lying that pain means I'm alive still.

It really means I am just stuck in a living hell, 
Some people look at me, and think that he is 
Fine. Others say he is just crazy, because I have
PTSD as well. They don't understand that the 
brain damage is something that I am stuck with.

I won't ever forget the day that my neurologist
told me that I am likely to be a legal junkie by 
The time I am 50. There are times that It makes 
Me think of giving up. I have 12 years and I am 
fighting because I am a warrior not just a soldier.

I have to remember that I can't feel sorry for me
Because I can still get out fo bed in the morning.
I am also blessed with a wonderful family, and 
The best friends, doctors and nurses to support 
Me that any veteran could ever ask for, THANKS GUYS.

Sgt. Parrish

I left Iraq in August 2006, and I won't ever forget Leroy Parrish. He was part of the HQ platoon that delivered me to Balad to join the 110th. He passed on October 3rd 2006, and I will always wonder what happened. Did he take my place? I never extended to stay in Iraq with the 110th because they weren't Tommy, SFC Mann and Sharpe. They never gave me the confidence that Tommy did, there was never a better squad leader you could ask for. We only exchanged harsh words once, and that was coming into BIAP on yankee one night. He yelled at me to watch out for the convoy leaving, and I told him to shut the fuck up so I could drive unless he wanted the wheel. The entire time with the 110th, the only ones who inspired me like him were Bittel, Cureton, and Brandt. Bittel was a squad leader I hated, because I drove the husky and I swear he wanted me dead. He was  like a bloodhound for IED's. Brandt was my team leader, and he had been with the 48th. We were two of a kind, we fought BG Rodeheaver? so we could stay when the lightning left. We traded our time for "Working Weekends" and a "Bullseye" on shoulder.

I won't ever forget the night of August 5th, 2006. I remember sitting inside the Buff with SFC Evans and SGT Riddell and the female captain from Arkansas. It was hours we sat there and cigarettes, and chew we went through like maniacs. The fougasse that went off was enough to kill V-3 but they all survived. I will never forget SSG  ---------- telling me to stay inside as my friends might be dead inside the RG. Tunning, Riddell, Koontz, and Doc all survived but Doc was the bravest bastard ever born. He went back into the RG when it as burning, and got his kit and the only thing we lost was some nod's and a mgn mount. I remember him asking me for a light and I gave him my tags with the little light on it. "Don't f---ing lose that my room key is on it...K was evacced but

Some hypocrisy of my own

Now, I have served my country since I was a teenager and I volunteered to serve in Iraq. It had nothing to do with going to find Saddam's weapons of mass destruction or his links to 9/11, because I am just a dumb old soldier but even I know when I am being fed a line of bullsh*&. Anyone who says they supported things because they believed the CIA or whatever has probably bought oceanfront property in Arizona or a nice little bridge for sale in Brooklyn. I went to Iraq, because it was the right thing to do.

This is the part that confuses a lot of people, because I see it in black and white without the shades of gray. You see, I didn't like old GW as a president but he at least quit screwing around and took Saddam out like his daddy and slick Willie should have. You see Saddam was a scumbag and got what he deserved, just like his two sons. The Iraqi people deserve better than what they got, and I am proud of what I and those I served with did to help them. There were mistakes and other things, but it was a warzone and shit happens. Most people don't understand that before the surge it wasn't the Iraqi people doing most of the fighting, but foreign fighters that were coming to help Al-qaida in Iraq and try to force them to live under a system like Afghanistan had under the Taliban. I have a real big problem with people that like to go around blowing people up, torturing, beating and killing in order to force them to worship the same way they do. See, it wasn't good enough that the Sunni and Shiia of Iraq were already Muslim, but if they weren't Wahabi or going to convert to Wahabiism then they would kill whoever they had to in order to make the rest fall into line.

10:10 Movie and the Enviro-Psychos

I never thought that I could see anything more disgusting than some of my memories from Iraq until watching television yesterday. I was unfortunate enough to come across the showing of the 10:10 commercial and it was something that made me want to throw up. I am not sure how any sane person person could ever come up with a concept for an advertisement or mini-movie like this, but my first thought is that they seriously need to be checked out by a team of thoroughly competent psychiatric professionals before being locked away someplace heavily sedated for many years to come.

I am all for helping the environment by recycling and doing what we can, but the concept of this commercial is sociopathic.

Hurting

It's coming back again, and I know the
Feeling all too well. My body is fighting
Me, and I am the one losing the fight at
Every twist and turn. I have to keep in
The fight losing is not an option for me.

My friends stand ready to help me, and
Without them I would have given up. I
Hide the weakness to keep them from
Worrying. I know some would counsel
Me

A Stupid Song in My Head

A song "Bury Me on Deadwood Mountani" by a group called Big & Rich that has been stuck in my head, just been coming up on random in my playlist the past few days. I like it, but don't get the wrong message by it.


I've been a rambler, all my life
Been a bet it all gambler
Yeah I let it all ride
Never been afraid of losin
Yeah there's been times I've lost it all
But it wont really matter
Someday when I'm gone

You can bury me on Deadwood Mountain
By my brother Wild Bill and sister Calamity Jane
Don't bring me no flowers
Just a six gun smokin
Put me eight feet down
When you bury me
Put me eight feet down
When you bury me

When your heart runs deeper
Then a ghost town gold mine
You just know your bound to find that motherload
You'll spend your last heartbeat chasing after rainbows
No there's no place you won't go
To win one more time

You can bury me on Deadwood Mountain
By my brother Wild Bill and sister Calamity Jane
Don't bring me no flowers
Just a six gun smokin
Put me eight feet down
When you bury me
Put me eight feet down
When you bury me

And cover me a little extra deep
Cause that's the only way
I'm ever gonna rest in peace

You can bury me on Deadwood Mountain
By my brother Wild Bill and sister Calamity Jane
Don't bring me no flowers
Just a six gun smokin
Put me eight feet down
When you bury me
Put me eight feet down
When you bury me

Soon it will be Memorial Day again

What It Means

We served our tour as strangers in the start,

I was thrown in a replacement and unknown.

You all treated me like I had no clue, then it

Was less than a week. My test came and I 

Passed in your eyes, and I had a new home.

You had all been together for years,but in a

Few weeks time it happened. We lost them, 

And they were mine too. The ramp that night 

Is what only those who've been there will ever

Know. They went home but not to their families.

We drove on and finished our tour. More of us 

Were hit and some were wounded. One other 

Would leave us, but there would be no more 

Angel flights. The rest would return safely to 

Your families, and even tried to bring me too.

Another unit to join for a few more months,and

Then I too came home. A year would pass, and 

I would be a casualty without the war. Then the 

News would come that I lost the "Kid." He came 

Home but that fucking war would still claim him.

We'll gather with friends and "family" that day. I

Think a joke that they watch us parade, because

They won't stand in the sun as we remember the

Times we shared and those who aren't having

Beer and cook-outs with their families & friends.

Disappearances

I haven't been around this week, because I have been out of my medicines thanks to my wonderful doctors at the VA. I love you, but right now I have been so toxic the last few days that I am scared of hurting you. My new doctor also got the bright idea to try a new prescription with me adderall? He said it is supposed to help with my focus, and yeah I am thinking he is the world's biggest dumbass. It is used for kids with ADD, but if you look here you will see crazy meds review of it. Just what you need to give someone who doesn't have the ability to sleep without the use of prescription sleeping pills or going till their bodies crashes from exhaustion. Between that and waiting for my refills of my sleeping pills and paxil, I managed to go from late Tuesday night till Saturday evening before my body just collapsed. this is the most coherent I have been in that time. Which really scares me because I don't remember yesterday, I know the boys went with Jennifer on Friday for Mother's Day and I have been on the go all the time since. I just don't know what I did? I also have to look up hypomania which I found is a side effect of Paxil and not being weaned off it along with some other less fun things that I am not going to go there.

I am not sure about anything anymore, and it is scaring me more and more. I know where you have been lately with your own health, and the stupidity I am capable of on my own normally is something you don't need to deal with when I don't have my medicines.

I really do wish I had the magic wand or a time machine. If I could do it over as I see things around me now, I would never have gone to Iraq or not come home...lol...I watch the news everyday and I did it for nothing. People are too stupid to see it, and for what was here at home the cost has never been worth me or the kid. In 4 more weeks it will be 4 years, and why did we all do it?

I had someone tell me the other day when I went out to the store as I stopped at one of my local haunts that they were tired of hearing about servicemen. I just sat and listened as they said there is nothing special about them that they are just normal people. I exploded then and told them that yeah we are normal, but we are the ones who shed our fucking blood and suffer the injuries and do the dying that they won't stand up and fucking do. I told them we are less than 1% of the population that have the courage to do what they won't do, and yet they still insult us or tell us we are cruel or inhuman for the things we have done.

They don't understand the price we pay for them. They don't see the kid that I loved or all the others, the things they gave up and never got to have. Not to mention the ones who loved them that pay that price every day remembering them, and learning to carry on with their lives without them.

Long Time

It has been a while since I have been here, the last post that I made here was in January. and I took that down before I made my blog private. I did that in order to keep the wicked witch from being able to get on here and read any of thoughts on here. I had also posted the archives of all her chats with her boyfriend, and left a link on my facebook when she had angered me one evening. I posted it all and left it up there until just a few weeks ago because I was tired of her telling everyone that it was me who was responsible.

I also did this because I have decided that I want to post my thoughts about the lifestyle here, and my stories here sometimes. Since a couple of people in my family have the address for this, I did not want them  able to read my thoughts and feelings especially since I turned off my fetlife profile, because of S knowing about it and knowing that she might use it against me with my mom and dad for the boys moving back here.