So there you are, hoping and waiting and looking forward to your first time, and for me there were only two things that I was really looking forward to in life: my first joint and my first kill. Truth be told they are not that different. Oddly enough I am writing this to you from “war” rehab. Let’s take a look at the symptoms, do you ever: -Avoid people that do not share the same subculture as yourself. -Talk about your experiences, and often get strange or concerned reactions from non-participants. -Ever feel like you are out of control and make mistakes or do things you regret because of your life attitude. -Have to appologize for, cry about in private, or tell a close friend or family member or spouse that you are unable to control yourself. -Constantly reinforce the idea that you are way beyond your limit and simultaneously dream of getting out of the cycle you’re in? -Ever wanted to just end it all not because you are sad or scared or guilty, but because being sad and scared and guilty has made you too fucking tired to get out of bed in the morning. -Can’t relate to others. -Don’t sleep for shit. -Can’t seem to get your fucking life back on track. I got bad news for you…. You could be either a drug addict or a war vet. When you think about justifying why you go and do the things that you do, there doesn’t seem to be a good answer for it. You find yourself wondering what could have been. You wish it was all a dream. These are the sad words of a poet that has felt loss, this isn’t the mantra of the patriot… or is it? You are at the center of a world where everyone has a split opinion about what it is that you do and how best to treat you. You are the modern drug addict, the crack war of the future. Sad, lonely and desperate, in and out of treatment, not able to make that lasting change, not able to beat the fucking demons back into the fucking cage… Then that creeping thought, that you may never win this batte, and that this battle may never end. I want you to really think it over, and tell me when you’re ready to quit. I’ll help you man, just go get help. This is the pep-talk you get during an intervention. After my second tour, I have done whatever I can to remove as many people from my club as I could. I always wonder, like a drug counselor does, if they will be back in here trashed in a week, trying to get back to combat, the only place where they are “understood.” Iraq, that fucking drug den is closed… Afghanistan is wearing thin… How the fuck is a generation of war addicts going to fucking cope without war. And just like a felon, they are going back to limited and shitty job options. A nation that wants to help but doesn’t know how. And then there is you, dear reader. You’re in here with me. Get your fix, while you can… But please man, sober up. This is the you that you wanted to be speaking, I know that if you can come back from this, you can remember me. I never wanted this… I don’t think you really do either. You can do better. Think it over, I’ll see you in the morning.
Written By John Patrick James Gulley
- Longest War in American History: Lost (madworldwriters.wordpress.com)