The Story of My Death This is the story of my death. Be not concerned because its not a morbid story, but is also a story of my life. At 25 years old i was a confident, outgoing young man who thought he had figured this crazy thing called life out. I had a job I loved as a firefighter, had a lot of friends that I spent quality time with. Being afraid of something was not in my vocabulary and I was ready to grab life by the sleeve and jerk it down. Then everything changed. In the summer of 2004 I was mobilized to camp Shelby for train up for deployment to Iraq in 2005. After returning from deployment, I began to notice suttle differences in the way I thought, and acted or interacted with people. My contentment in life was lost, I began to feel as if I always needed to be moving and changing as not to got stagnant and predictable. I left the fire department to pursue other opportunities, then other opportunities, and yet more opportunities. I deployed to Afghanistan in 2010 where I spent 10 months on a stressful deployment. Over the last 13 years, Im not sure that any of my ideals or understanding, or goals remotely look like those of that 25 year old. Recently I have had several friends and family members say to me, whats wrong, this isnt you. I have thought about this for some time and finally came up with a answer for them. They are right, this isnt me, or at least the me I used to be. Dont get me wrong there are thousands of veterans who have experienced worse than myself. I am a fortunate man, but I cant understand why I cant just go through my day without remembering, or not doing certain things because I dont like crowds or noise. I write this not for comment, or likes. But as veteran day is tomorrow, I write this to my brothers in arms. I just want to thank you all for sacrificing not only your time, being away from family, careers, and risking your life, but thank you because I know that we will never be the same. That 25 year old that had it all figured out, didnt know crap. But because of brothers who had my back, fought with me, mourned with me, laughed with me, I can still remember him. So to sum it up, I am not that guy any longer he is dead and gone, but because of veterans a new man lives. He may be a little troubled, he might not sleep well, he might need to see the door at all times, and he might jump and turn pale when a loud sound startles him, but in the words of a great friend, it is what it is.
Posted on: Mon, 10 Nov 2014 22:45:15 +0000
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