It Doesn’t Get Any Easier Later, It Just Get’s Later

War is cruelty, and you cannot refine it. Every attempt to make war easy and safe will result in humiliation and defeat. If the people raise a great howl against my barbarity and cruelty, I will answer that war is war. It is not popularity-seeking. War is, at best, barbarism. War is the remedy our enemies have chosen, and I say let us give them all they want. There is many a young man here today who thinks that war is all glamour and glory; but let me tell you, boys, it is all Hell!”
                                        
                                                 – General William T.Sherman.
“There are no spectator seats in an ambush.” It is the only way I could psychologically justify many of my actions during war.
                                            -TimothyKendrick
   To look back at our lives and try or discover why certain things happened can be what I call an enhancer.  It expands my references and may explain some of my actions that have made me what I am today.
   1 out of 4 returning veterans with PTSD Post Traumatic Stress Disorder will commit suicide.  1 out of 4, freaking astonishing!!!.
   I personally preferred for awhile what I call “suicide on the installment plan”.  This is where one drinks massive quantities of alcohol and prodigious amount of pills until you shoot yourself or just die.  Well I couldn’t bring my self to shoot myself (i enjoyed the pain too much) I was in Latin America and my friend finds me in my hooch with and empty bottle of brandy and pills and says “do you think you need some help”  I thought “no I’m killing myself just fine thank you”.
  Like a wounded animal I had crawled off to die by myself. Someone had found me, not my plan This was in the late 90’s so back to the hospital I go for the umpteenth time.  It was a nice four walled place in Panama City, Panama.
  I had seen death in Africa years before and it haunted me. Ahh but my ego would not permit me to deal with it in “positive constructive matter”.
  I had friends who ended it in their own way.  Hell, I hand nothing I thought at the time to live for.  A paternity suit, the IRS, I’d look in the mirror and after all the “pats on the back”, all I saw was the angel of darkness and me running. I was flat broke.
  I was drinking brandy because it was dirt cheap where I was at.  God awful nasty but it did its job. I ate when my body made me. Once again I thought, “you chickenshit, you can’t even kill yourself right”. 
 This began my journey into self awareness.  I searched for meaning in my life.  It was like when the astronaut “Buzz” Aldrin came back from walking on the moon. He felt like “how do I top that”.  “Buzz” crawled into depression and a bottle for many years.  Hell, Neil Armstrong refused to talk to any media for over 2 decades. I never walked on the moon though I lived through things that some could not even imagine living through.  I was addicted to it and I loved every minute when “the sht was hitting the fan and I was in the middle of it.  Then I knew peace, an eerie peace, the senses, and the awareness.
The awareness THAT was what I was looking for.
 The awareness was never found in a bottle of booze or pills. I only discovered it in Iraq after bull@itting my way back to a Department of Defense job.  I had to see the beast (war) that fed me for so long again.
 What I was doing to that point was not working.  In 7 years I had 23 jobs.  This was from 1998-2003.  I was flat ass broke, on the verge of losing everything including my wife.  I had to get that job with the DOD (they knew I was crazy so I got it). Next thing after 2 tours I’m out of my mind and found drunk in the back of a Iraqi bus.  My boss, (who I thought was a prick).  Says to me. (After he gave me a rash of sht).  You’re done aren’t you?  I said yes I’m done.  That was it he helped me out of the bus.  They got me out of country quickly, Funny just like 10 years before in Mogadishu.  This time I’m on a C-5 just like 10 years ago.  Wow what a coincidence I think. I had gotten pretty good at lying to doctors so in Kuwait I lied again and they bought it.  If not, it was a one way ticket to Landstuhl Hospital in Germany in the psyche ward.
  I had finally gotten to a point of enough leverage (pain) that It became a “must” to find solutions if not only for myself but for others who may have these same issues. This is how my first book “PTSD: Pathways Through the Secret Door” came about.
 The secret door is our mind.  It is not what happens to us, it is what happens within us that matters.  It  is unlocking and opening doors within our subconscious mind and tapping into our full potential as human beings.  Learning that Living is Giving and our mission on this earth is not complete, well until it is complete

How Can I Solve My Problem? The answer is “information” … … and the information is here!

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