Life is funny. And depending on my mood, I always consider the future to be a bleak masterpiece of darkness. No one really knows their future. And for most, they’ve come to the conclusion that “god” has a special plan for them. And only he knows. Like in my previous blog entry, I’ve gone back and forth on a faith-based belief system. Can a person really put all their eggs in one basket when it comes to “god” and religion? Doesn’t that seem a little risky? Wouldn’t you want to spread things out a little more? My other question is; do you really believe or are you just basing this on a “what-if” scenario? Like, what if there is a hell or heaven? I’m going to believe just to be on the safe side. Is that really a genuine belief? Or is that some sort of self-indulged bullshit idea to keep your ass safe?
If I died tonight, what would happen? Where would I go? These are my thoughts: it wouldn’t exactly matter. I’d just float away into nothingness and be gone. Why am I thinking about this shit? Well, to be honest, I’ve always thought about it since I got back from Iraq. I live with a lot of pain, anguish and mental trauma from my deployment. And you know what? I feel fucking guilty about that, too. Yeah, my tour seemed like a piece of cake to most; I was a tank mechanic, pulled some guard duty, hung out in the motor pool, did some patrols with the scouts and the Estonian Army, hung out with the Infantry guys, stayed in an outpost 20 miles from civilization for 21 days straight without real food and shower…but you know…there were plenty of guys that had it worse than I did.
Losing friends was the hardest. Seeing my fellow Scout brothers go through that shit was even worse. Because like I’ve blogged about before, I was stuck in some shit hole radio watch room doing just that; radio watch. When in reality, I could have been the soldier I trained to be to save lives. That’s the shit I’m dealing with. It’s like I have the weight of the entire fucking world on my shoulders.
I’ve come out of some dark places in my life. And not to sound too dramatic, but I’ve dealt with the urge to just self-medicate myself to sleep. You know, with pills, and alcohol and whatever else. Something keeps nagging at me to continue marching on. To be that soldier again, and soldier through all this bullshit we call life. To get up each day, make the best of my life, give 100% and continue. Something keeps nagging me. Like, a little pilot light in the back of my head. Eventually, I want that pilot light to go out so I can rest. And when I say rest, I mean, to just have everything stop for like 24 fucking hours so I can get some peace and quiet.
My brain doesn’t stop, people. Iraq and combat and my buddies, it’s all a constant reminder of my life. It’s all a constant reminder that I could have done more. I should have done more. But I didn’t. Why, I don’t know. These days, my attitude carries me far. Farther than any distance I could ever travel on foot. “I don’t give a fuck” is a common phrase a use on my day-to-day activities at work. And it helps me cope. It helps me succeed. For some reason, it’s my religious belief that as long as I don’t give a fuck, I will continue to survive.