I never really talk about it, what it’s like. Mostly because I honestly couldn’t understand it. Recently I visited my brother, he’s in the Army 11 bravo. You know the guys that kick in doors & blow stuff up.
He’s leaving for yet another tour, he lost half his liver his first one. He has ptsd, I try to reach him… I don’t know if I do.
I watch him clear the house like I used to every night & sometimes do now. I watch him numb the pain with as much alcohol as he can take till passing out & realize while I stopped using liqour, my vice is just the same.
I carry him to bed in the middle of the night & feel the sweat, the night sweats are probably the thing I hate the most. I’m lucky, they don’t come as often for me anymore.
This weekend I went to a busy restaurant and sat with my back to the door, I didn’t flip out. I occasionally scanned the room & had to step outside, but overall I actually enjoyed eating with family.
Nothing my lady & I went to the beach at night to watch the ocean, I interrupted a romantic moment to explain that I just realized the beach facing apartments weren’t a good idea. Someone could shoot rockets at the complex and be gone before anyone knew what happened. She’s used to this by now. She coaxed me into speaking further & I explain how a week the attackers got lazy and used a washing machine to launch the rockets on a timer, simply because they could.
Sometimes I look at her & have to remember I trust her, in the beginning I sometimes scared her with the mood changes. She says her mission in life is to love me, I’m lucky.
I don’t speak about the marines, she says I seems ashamed. I explain I just don’t fully understand it all yet, she calls me her hero, I try to understand.
3 years ago, this time of year I was in a hotel. On the outside I’d built a great career after the marines in the web field. Every night i forced myself to sit in one spot, because if i moved i would break everything in the room a company paid for to keep me in town to work with them.
Some nights I go crazy, not metaphorically, literally. I stay in a room & piss in bottles until I trust myself in the world again. I’ve learned to just go with it, the next day I feel better, like somehow something escaped.
There’s more, theres always more. but maybe thats enough to help you relate with someone whose going thru this.
thanks for reading, i’ll post more often. My brain is starting to work again, i still play checkers, now with backgammon & a memory trainer game too. I still can’t play chess again, but one day soon I know i will.
