Day #22.

This photo was taken somewhere between Kentucky and Kansas during my ETS leave.

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     Sorry to any readers waiting on a new blog. A lot has happened since June. 

Along with therapy reaching it's end, I finished up my contract with the military as well. 4 years down the hatch already. It's hard to believe that it's over.

No more long runs or pushups at someone's command. That's a relief. =)

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First and foremost, my priority was to get colored tips after 4 years of not being permitted to do so according to Army Regulation 670-1. It was spectacular. (This photo was taken on 23Sept2011, the day I signed out on leave for the last time)

^Finished^

I was able to see a fully bloomed tobacco plant in Kentucky for the first time.

Thanks to a cousin, I met Poison's drummer Rikki at a Columbus show. 

He's from PA so we were able to discuss some Pennsylvania slang.

Next thing on the 'What-I'm-Going-To-Do-When-I-Get-Out' list: Have two-toned hair (Also an Army Regulation breaker).

In between all of these events of greatness, I must tell you that I slept in every single day. Definitely caught up on all the hours lost since 2007. =)

My mother and I picked tomatoes in the garden and made homemade sauce together.

And found a peep. ^-^

My parents sell tons of tomatoes and peppers every Summer. It was exhausting picking the vegetables. Thought my lower back would never stop burning.

Christopher took me by a haunted house in Kentucky. Apparently an old woman was always seen standing and looking out the window that is now closed.

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Thought I'd catch you up on the past few months using pictures. Reading is always more enjoyable with photos right?

For shits and giggles, here is Patrick dressed in a tux.

X_X

     

Day #21.

Took this photo back in 2005 or 2006 at a theme park in Pittsburgh.

     The puzzle pieces consisting of all my problems have been put together, boxed back up, and placed away in the past. Going through these old pictures I found brought back alot of memories, mostly good ones involving friends and family that have shaped me. Others reminded me of the not so good days when my parents yelled at me and I thought it was the end of the world. Many of them stir up the exact emotion I felt at the time I took the photo more than the memory of what occurred before or after the picture was taken.

     Walking through town after a football game was our little group's thing. We used to go to the High Street bridge and aim our spit at leaves on the bottom until our mouths were dry. There were fights, break-ups, make-ups, and never ending teens running across it both for good reasons and bad. One night, I vaguely remember running up to the bridge while it was pouring rain, the drops stinging my face. I was laughing, I remember that well. Everything felt just right, like all the bad was being washed off of me.

     Fox's Pizza Den was a popular place for us as well. We used to play Photo Hunt for what felt like hours, laughing and yelling and smiling from ear to ear until we ran out of money. And when we were broke, we'd go to the playground. Throwing rocks into the river, playing tag, watching the boys play basketball, rolling down hills. Wrestling and horseplaying like the kids we were. But we didn't think we were kids. We knew it all, better than anyone else. How powerful we thought we were, with our curfews and chores. Asking for a ride to a friend's house, begging for just a few more bucks to buy something meaningless. Planning to run away if our rents didn't say yes to anything we asked. Oh so rebellious and headstrong. We nurtured each other through anything and everything. We were one another's comfort during a fight, a bad grade or a rejection. We built confidence and courage for each other before a test or a slow dance. We saved seats for eachother on the bus, at lunch, during study hall and class. It made the worst part of our day diminish when we were together.

     It will feel weird going back to this little town I called home for so long. Everything will look older, including the people. Everyone and everything will look different and the same. It will be hard to go back home, and hard to leave too.

88 days remaining.



Day #20.

Flying away from the current place I call home is such an amazing feeling. The escape from past weekdays of bullshit at work are hundreds of miles behind me, I've just reached 32,000 feet above the ground and a great sigh of relief is exhaled as I prepare for a great weekend.

I still remember my first flight, it was out of Pittsburgh heading to St. Louis for Basic Training.  I listened carefully to the attendants as they briefed us on emergency procedures, and politely took the complimentary pretzels from the stewardess. After all, these would be the last pretzels I'd be eating for at least a few months. Not knowing what was going to happen next was scary and exciting at the same time. [Note to self: the landings always sound like the plane is going to snap into pieces, you'll be fine.]

Until the next plane out of here, I guess I'll just have to keep on keeping on...




124 days reamining.

Day #19.

Oh shoes, the places you and I have been.

We have trekked through some pretty harsh weather, deep puddles and tall grass.

The possibilities are never ending it seems.

Someday you will no longer accompany me to the mall or a local carnival.

Another pair of converse sneakers will fill your void, but I will miss your broken in fit.

No matter how many holes are torn into you,

I will keep you tucked away in my closet for the sake of fond memories.

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125 days remaining.

Day #18.

Above is a photo of me writing in a notebook that a friend got me for Christmas last year. Her husband got orders to Germany, so she'll be there with him for the next few years. Although we can keep in touch on Facebook via e-mail, I thought of writing to her in this notebook and sending it to her in Germany. We'll see how it goes...

127 days remaining.

Day #17.

A letter to a friend.
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"Everything is gonna be okay."

     When I'm at my worst, reassurance keeps me holding on. Maybe words don't give you emotional hugs, but sometimes they are all that get us through another day.

     You are strong. In mind and soul, you have taken death by the very horns that have hooked into many unfortunate people, and you have slain the beast. Not only have you defeated death once, but twice. You are a Spartacus of sorts. On top of that, your deep and unconditional will to live is proving to be vital in setting foot into the future.

     Take a deep breath. Feel the clean crisp air flow into your lungs. Take another. Feel the life pushing through your heart and your veins. It's as strong as it was before, and each day it will  feel better. You can take in as many breaths as you want! You can breathe! Celebrate this wonderful gift of life.

     The devil on your shoulder will try to convince you to succumb to bad coping mechanisms. He will try to consume positive thoughts. And those moments when you are standing close to that fatal edge will be challenging. But your inner strength can push away the evil urges to crumble under the pressure. That devil will tell you that going over the edge will benefit you, and that you'll feel better. Don't let him win.

     During your stay, make the angel on your other shoulder strong enough to fight those battles. And if the urges come to you, you can fight against them with confidence and motivation.

     After an urge dissappears, remember the accomplishment of fighting it and winning. Each time you win, you will feel even more confidence arise from within. Write in your journal every time you overcome a challenge like this. It will help you if you feel the need to do it again.

     There are triggers that you know of that create the urges, but there are others too that you may be unaware of. These are unexpected moments in your day when you feel anxiety and depression for no reason. When you feel this way, put on your armor, bear your sword and fight! Not only for yourself, but for all of the loved ones around you. They will be standing behind you. They already are!

     When you're swept off your feet with sadness, remember those that care for you. If the devil on your shoulder tells you that nobody cares, shake him off by saying out loud "I am loved." Say it again and again because it will build the angel's strength.

"Everything is gonna be okay."
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137 days remaining.

Day #16.

It's been a rough past couple of days.

Actually, this month has drained me of all energy.

A close friend from home has been having issues for a while now, and these issues have brought him down to his lowest low. I listened to him and told him to call me the next time he's at that point, no matter what's going on.

After some horrible experiences several years ago, I've automatically made myself responsible for a person with a major depressive disorder. And in this guy's case, he has no insurance for psychological assistance, so in my mind I'm one of his support contacts. And if something happens or happened to him, I'd blame myself for not doing anything about it before. But what exactly could I do now? His closest family and friends would just say "Stop feeling that way, you're fine, geeez." 2000 miles away, I figure I'm doing alright.

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A co-worker I've known for a few years has had trouble with some things in the past, and on Friday, he attempted suicide. Let's just say his name is John. I was asked through a text message to check on John in the barracks where we stay. I said sure. I step outside where there was lightning striking in the distance as a thunderstorm was heading my way, the tree branches were waving hard in the wind, and an armadillo by the bushes nearby scared me as much as I scared it. Something wasn't right. I went to his door and knocked, but there was no sound on the other side. I attempted to call his cell, and it rang through the door, but no answer and no other sounds. My stomach turned a little. I called Chris to get advice, and he said to call an NCO in charge for assistance. I continued to knock on the door while waiting for the NCO to arrive. One swift knock startled John awake, and I heard him scuffling around inside, hurriedly, without answering the door. I can't give details, but he wasn't going to answer the door, and he wasn't expecting anyone to come in and find him alive. 20-30 minutes later, we got a key to get inside, called 911 and eventually EMS arrived and took him to the hospital.

I've never actually walked in on an incident related to suicide, but it's been replaying in my head every day. John is alive, and will be getting help after his hospitalization is over and he's fully healed. I've been at the hospital every day to see him since the incident.

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I don't feel responsible for the fact that these people are lost in depression, but I feel like I should be as involved as I can with them because I understand and I can encourage them that they will get better. I feel obligated to take them under my wing and help with the healing process. If I don't help them, I'm failing myself and every successful suicide victim out there.

Last year, a medic that used to work at the jail hung himself. I saw him outside of work at Starbucks often, and he even told me when I was feeling down once that things would get better for me. I didn't see the warning signs before his suicide, and it bothers me so much that I failed him by not being able to see when he was down or help him through his troubles.

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Yesterday I received a text message from my mom saying that a guy from my home town hung himself the night before. He had a drug problem, and I'm guessing he became overwhelmed with emotions and couldn't go through the pain any longer. He was 1 year younger than me, and he's no longer with us. My heart sank to the floor as soon as I heard about it. I know people say we're born alone, and we die alone. But then there's dying alone and completely full of lonliness.

Unfortunately, there's nothing we can do sometimes. If there aren't any signs, we never know there were issues to begin with, so we just hear about it in the news or through somebody, and sometimes we see it right in front of us.

I called the friend from home and talked to him about it, and once again asked him to call me if he's ever feeling that way again. He promised me that he would, and I can only hope that those promises won't be broken.

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Today we had Suicide Prevention training for a few hours, and I had to leave at a certain point because I was so angry! The soldiers in the training would smirk or laugh about certain things and I became enraged at their immaturity. A female next to me said "I don't feel any sympathy for suicidal people, they obviously do it for attention and nothing else." And an NCO said "Yeah, I talked 3 people out of killing themselves. One guy had a blade on himself and I told him to go ahead and cut his throat, and when he dropped the blade I socked him. I'll tell them straight up to stop being a pussy about it."

No compassion for the people next to us is what has lead people to their successful suicides, and it will continue to happen more and more with opinions like the ones above.

I'm just sick with it, sick to my stomach.

After today, I feel as though sensitivity and care in this world is reaching it's end.

 



150 days remaining.