Sunday Apr 18, 2010

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well, back from my fort hood trip....

met puppies, hung with friends, cooked some good food, played with snakes.... took some pictures

BUT.... upon my return to houston, i find our internet is down due to lack of payment... yay. so im here hacking from the neighbors, but the reception on the wireless is shitty, so not sure i have the bandwidth to even put pictures up. but ill try.

in the meantime... here are a couple things i have written recently:

one is personal.... and painful....

SPOILERS! (Click to view)

the things i want to say to her.
the things i want to say to myself.

its getting even harder to smile at myself. i cannot figure out, who i am. what im doing here. im so lost.

her.... well, she was a shining symbol of hope for me. shes so strong. so wise. she knows everything about herself and accepts who and what she is. she respects herself, both past and present.

but me.... i fear my past, and hide my present. i try to live in my future, no matter how blurry it may be. i find myself constantly searching for a place of acceptance in this world, instead of accepting my place in it.

problem is, i dont know my place anymore. i dont know myself. the self that i can see, i dont like. the mirror is pathetic, and shadow of a being.

she made me think that i could finally let out. i can finally find myself. i can finally accept what the mirror shows.

but when she left, i became a huge shield against all that is good. i spent most of my time concentrating on tricking myself into thinking im fine and im normal and im over it, i became a monster. a creature of darkness. yet a child. terrified and alone. noone to guide me, noone to accept me.

i find solice now in other worlds. i find comfort in firearms, security in violence. order in chaos.

is this the life a man should live? is this the life anyone should endure?

i watch movies and put myself into the roles. into the world im viewing. where things are simple. and pain is imaginary. i shut my brain down, and i am calm again.

yet it only takes one thing to set me off again. one thought, one memory to push me back into depression. today, it was food. chinese buffet. when she was down, thats what we ate in fort hood. the memories rushed me, i found myself searching for the sushi bar, looking for little octopi.

shes not in the sushi bar. shes only in my mind.

i thought that i couldnt bare seeing her happy with someone else. now i cannot bare seeing her in struggle. i just wish i could be there to comfort her. even if it isnt as the person to her i want to be. i just to hold my hand against her cheek and tell her she will be alright. tell her i know how strong she is, and that nothing can keep her down. i want to tell her.... i will always care.

but i cant. i cannot even tell myself these things. i see no end to what it is im feeling. i see no bright future right now. the image in the mirror, im only trying to get used to it. i must try to change it. i need help. i cannot do this on my own.

im reaching out for help, but i have no idea what to say when i find any. maybe... save me.



i wrote that as a very lonely, very depressing moment during the week... a lot of the week has been.... in depressing thought. that was my cry for help, really.

some may know ive recently registered with the houston va in efforts to talk to someone about ptsd... i feel like.... well, heres the letter i wrote this morning for me to share with whatever doctor i may see...

LETTER:
sunday, april 18th. woke up lonely and cold. confused. im checking my phone for new messages or voice mails. nothing. i dont know why i thought there was. maybe im just hoping. theres a big thunderstorm going on outside. street is starting to flood, loud crashes and whips. deep rolls. took a short video and a couple pictures. theres something oddly calming in this. go back to my room. play music. write... try to calm down a bit. open the window.

im feeling more and more lost. less human, more like another number. a drivers license number, social security number, student id number. one of hundreds of thousands of drivers in texas, one of millions of future social security collectors in the country. one of thousands of students in my school. all these numbers, meaningless. my old army numbers meant something. 17D - lead convoy driver. 12G - mid convoy gunner. PLT RTO - platoon radio operator. each of them, when written out or spoken, had my name, not some number, attached to them.

PVT, PFC, SPC - ranks. places. a spot in the large structure of things. 17D, 12G - positions, jobs. a spot in the immediate structure. engineer - a type. i am now without most of these. my type: student. i have no soldiers to care for, no squads to work with. no teams. just me. a student. a mere follower. no place or rank in life. no position in the immediate. just another student. another series of number. no soul, no breath, just a GPA.

i was somebody once. i was smart once. one time in my life, i led people. at one point in my life, i knew what to do, where to go. there was a time.... i would awake with a purpose everyday. i would defend my convoy behind the barrel of a .50 cal. machine gun, or lead it from behind a steering wheel of an M1151. i would help soldiers. people used to ask me for help. help to clean, help with a study question, or a weapon system. help to pass their pt test. help with personal problems. i was always willing and able to jump to the rescue. now..... im forcing myself to get out of bed each day. forcing myself to clean, to go to class. ive already lost the outside world. ive already lost somebody from this.

current events? i dont care. neighbors selling weed? dont care. grades starting to slip? dont care. at this point.... i only care about myself because im forcing myself to. im not sure how long i can keep this up on my own. is this life? just making ourselves function day after day, until its all over? until we finally rest? is this the point, the purpose of life... to wait until we die? if thats the point, then whats the point? or is this just me, right now? am i just an uncaring, low battery robot?

my memories of the war, they soothe me. sure, when back here in the states some loud bang or such will startle me, sometimes even become paralyzing. but in iraq, their just.... normal. just another day. if you didnt wake to gun fire or morter rounds.... something was wrong. the explosions, small arms fire, the sound of bullets trying uselessly yet mercilessly to penetrate armor....normal. calming. now.... i sit around and hope for violence. i search for the danger, for the pain. i think.... whats my best course of action if a gunman were to walk into the gas station right now? or at the club... i wait for the fights. i get close, i wanna see. i want one of them to hit me accidentally... or on purpose, whatever. quick jab to the neck, right hook to the kidney, right knee to the chest. my favorite attack combo. constant pain, slow movement, hard to breathe. fights over. never happens.... but i want it to. i need to be hit. i need that danger. i need that pain.

is this me now? someone who wants nothing more than his life to be like a war? the only thing that stops me from going back.... is my family. i dont want to hurt them... i dont want them to be devastated by another lost child.... but thats it.... part of me says... go back. fight. get shot at. feel whats truly in your veins. yet another part.... fix this. solve this problem. this isnt working for you. your losing grip of the world. your slipping away from life. this is no way to live. this is no way to be.... human.

storms over. maybe ill clean. i know i need to. shame right now im the only one here to clean. could use help.

END OF LETTER.

god i just hope therapy will work. if not.... fuck it. shelter myself. shelter myself in blood, in gunfire. in danger. in pain.

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