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Listen up soldiers, I don& #39;t think many of us understand unless we& #39;ve been there what it takes to bring, oh let& #39;s say the average person to the point they think dying looks good in comparison to living through another day, so
maybe my story will help because I truly believe given
maybe my story will help because I truly believe given
the right set of circumstances...a "perfect storm" if you will...no one is immune. My storm has after my first deployment to Iraq, and the horrors I saw there would leave anyone with scars, at the time I& #39;d been divorced from my shitheel of an Ex a couple of years (yes the Ex that
outed me) That same Ex had also (on purpose) run up a mountain of debt that was also attached to my name. I was in Korea at the time, having a lot of problems with family...the whole gay thing (mostly my folks) living in barracks obviously and every penny I had that wasn& #39;t for
necessities whent to paying the debt that I hadn& #39;t accrued myself. I was busting my ass on duty,...it wasn& #39;t able to sleep more than 2 hours a night if I was lucky, I was always exhausted, I always felt heavy, like I was being crushed, and crushed in slow motion and I was sure I
utterly alone, I felt like I was failing, failing my family, failing the Army, failing myself, I was drowning and no matter how hard I swam I couldn& #39;t reach the shore. I was tired, beyond tired. I mean what was the point? Then I looked at my gun...I saw a way out, I mean if I was
such a disappointment who would it hurt? I& #39;d certainly be better off and this is the point I lucked out, something deep in me that wasn& #39;t tired, that didn& #39;t feel empty and heavy all the time got scared, some spark, a bit of fight still left. So I called my Master Sergeant, which
scared me even more. He came right away, about as white as could be which was really something since he was African American. He didn& #39;t offer me platitudes, he took my gun, which was a good thing since I was shaking so hard I probably would have shot both of us, and then wrapped
me in his arms and held me as I sobbed...he cried...and told me he was there, and managed to get me in his car and drove me to get checked out he must have made calls, I don& #39;t remember, because when we got to the hospital My Captain was there, my co-workers were there, the people
hung out with and lived with were there, I don& #39;t think I& #39;ve seen som many soldiers cry before or since, I got more hugs than I can remember, Dozens of we got you& #39;s and a Captain who the doctors thought they would have to peel off me to get a proper exam, much less talk to me. I
won& #39;t say it was easy to claw my way out of that place, it wasn& #39;t and it hurt at times... a lot. But one of the biggest starting steps was realizing, that I belonged, being shown I was valued and cared for. I still take anti-anxiety meds when I need to to help me sleep, when I
need it. I did another deployment to Iraq 2 years later some I must be okay right? I& #39;m a work in progress, I always will be, aren& #39;t we all? My point is no one knows what another suffers, what hurt festers and what stressors crack our armor, so be mindful and watchful of your
brothers and sisters in arms, don& #39;t be afraid to speak out when you& #39;re hurting or things happen you don& #39;t think you can shoulder on your own. I promise someone will reach out a hand if you do, probably several someones, you are not broken, you are not weak, you are human and we
all have a limit when we reach all we can bear
