I sit here, in my 3 bedroom house paid for the blood and sweat of working my ass off, typing thing. This place was once occupied by what I thought was my loving wife and now 4 year old son, whom I rarely get to see. At least he still calls me Daddy...
Rewind back to June 2000. I joined the Marine Corps at 18, I left for MCRD San Diego a week after graduation. I hadn't been with my new unit for more than 9 months, then some people decided to crash a few jets into a buildings and a year alter I found myself in Afghanistan.
Most of the memories I have from the Marine Corps are just snapshots, pictures. I remember a few one liners friends said and "oh shit, look at that!" I survived the battle for Nasiriyah during the initial invasion, 10 members of my squad weren't so lucky. Then not even a year later I found myself fighting house to house in a terrible place most people call Fallujah. I was hit in the neck and right arm from fragments of an RPG. I remember waking up in the Shock-Trauma tent with a nurse, whom I still chat with occasionally to this day. From all my time deployed I received the curse most of you know as PTSD, but like an idiot I keep all the anger, sorrow, frustration and a bunch of other feelings I can't describe bottled up. Bottled up deep down inside. I look back to 5 years ago when I was a new married young veteran with a child on the way as a happy man, with a dark past, a past that was kept hidden. I did unspeakable things, things I can't repeat. Things I regret. Things that will haunt me for the rest of my life. I've ended other people's lives, its a guilt, a curse that no man should have to feel..
After only being married for a year, my young wife left me, taking my son to another state. I fought her in court just so I could prove to her I had the right to see my son, she would use the notion of PTSD as a reason to keep him from me. I succeed and had a very emotional reunion with my son as she looked on, a few years from then, she'd tell me how horrible she felt that day depriving me of my only son.
A short time after my then wife left me, I resigned from being a Deputy Sheriff and decided to finish my degree in Civil Engineering. It was there I met a Marine Corp vet, in a Calculus who was also finishing the same degree I had my sights set on since I was a young lad. He too harbored the same emotions I did, however he chose a different path in life. He chose to seek counseling for his troubles at the advisement of his wife. I have more respect for that woman that anybody I've ever met. She has stood by his side at the darkest of times. I've told them my story of woe and how my wife left when the fecal matter started to hit the air osculation unit. As is the case for alot of military personal returning home from a combat deployment, break ups and divorce..
I wonder how my dad and his brothers survived after Vietnam and how my grandfathers survived World War 2 after the war, they were able to return to a normal life after war. For along time I carried the guilt that my divorce was my fault, but now being able to talk to my ex wife I find it was a combination of both of us. All things that could have been fixed, I'm sure.
I just don't have it in me to try again anymore. I can't go out and party, I have a fear of large crowds. On that tangent I still scan the side of the road while I drive. I still have nightmares and sleepless nights.
After typing this all out, I've just faced the reality that the only person I've talked to this about is a Shrink in an office. My mom knows I'm a changed man, I'm not that all star football player that threw away a scholarship to a college.. My dad simply told me to do what makes me happy.
So what now?
Rewind back to June 2000. I joined the Marine Corps at 18, I left for MCRD San Diego a week after graduation. I hadn't been with my new unit for more than 9 months, then some people decided to crash a few jets into a buildings and a year alter I found myself in Afghanistan.
Most of the memories I have from the Marine Corps are just snapshots, pictures. I remember a few one liners friends said and "oh shit, look at that!" I survived the battle for Nasiriyah during the initial invasion, 10 members of my squad weren't so lucky. Then not even a year later I found myself fighting house to house in a terrible place most people call Fallujah. I was hit in the neck and right arm from fragments of an RPG. I remember waking up in the Shock-Trauma tent with a nurse, whom I still chat with occasionally to this day. From all my time deployed I received the curse most of you know as PTSD, but like an idiot I keep all the anger, sorrow, frustration and a bunch of other feelings I can't describe bottled up. Bottled up deep down inside. I look back to 5 years ago when I was a new married young veteran with a child on the way as a happy man, with a dark past, a past that was kept hidden. I did unspeakable things, things I can't repeat. Things I regret. Things that will haunt me for the rest of my life. I've ended other people's lives, its a guilt, a curse that no man should have to feel..
After only being married for a year, my young wife left me, taking my son to another state. I fought her in court just so I could prove to her I had the right to see my son, she would use the notion of PTSD as a reason to keep him from me. I succeed and had a very emotional reunion with my son as she looked on, a few years from then, she'd tell me how horrible she felt that day depriving me of my only son.
A short time after my then wife left me, I resigned from being a Deputy Sheriff and decided to finish my degree in Civil Engineering. It was there I met a Marine Corp vet, in a Calculus who was also finishing the same degree I had my sights set on since I was a young lad. He too harbored the same emotions I did, however he chose a different path in life. He chose to seek counseling for his troubles at the advisement of his wife. I have more respect for that woman that anybody I've ever met. She has stood by his side at the darkest of times. I've told them my story of woe and how my wife left when the fecal matter started to hit the air osculation unit. As is the case for alot of military personal returning home from a combat deployment, break ups and divorce..
I wonder how my dad and his brothers survived after Vietnam and how my grandfathers survived World War 2 after the war, they were able to return to a normal life after war. For along time I carried the guilt that my divorce was my fault, but now being able to talk to my ex wife I find it was a combination of both of us. All things that could have been fixed, I'm sure.
I just don't have it in me to try again anymore. I can't go out and party, I have a fear of large crowds. On that tangent I still scan the side of the road while I drive. I still have nightmares and sleepless nights.
After typing this all out, I've just faced the reality that the only person I've talked to this about is a Shrink in an office. My mom knows I'm a changed man, I'm not that all star football player that threw away a scholarship to a college.. My dad simply told me to do what makes me happy.
So what now?
