If you think things have gotten better for me, think again.

If anything, things remain about the same: callous government, not getting the honor, respect, or help I feel is due, people staring at me or calling me nasty names, trying like hell not to bash some godblamed idiot's face in ...

I'm still plagued with ongoing nightmares or flashbacks: no relief there.  It's a wonder I sleep four hours a night; if is storming, I sleep even less.  The lightning and thunder remind me too much of battle:  I sweat and start breathing really fast, and my heart hammers in my ears.  It's all I can do to keep from going into a full-blown panic attack!

My girlfriend has joined in the fight to get me the support I desperately need.  I am tired of fighting this ongoing battle.  I feel as though I have never left the war, and I feel that our fight is only going to get more intense as the weeks and months slide by.

I don't know why people continue to give me (or my fellow vets) such a hard time.  We didn't ask to go to war: we VOLUNTEERED to go because the main  majority of you assholes didn't even think about doing something great for your country whereas we DID.  We didn't ask to get hurt: it was just dumb luck or the fact that we happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.  Now we are paying for it in more ways than one.

I wonder what you would do if bullets were whizzing overhead or bombs blasting near you.  Wouldn't that scare the piss outta you??  I wonder what you would do if  you held a dying child in your arms or if you saw one of your fellow comrades lying there, mortally wounded (or possibly dying or already dead).  Wouldn't that affect you just a little?  It sure as hell did me, and then people wonder why I clam up whenever they ask me to tell my war stories.

The truth of the matter is this: I do NOT want to talk about it.  As far as I'm concerned, case is closed.  Finito.  Kaput.  End of story.  Do you enjoy watching me wig out or torturing my already burned-out mind with memories?  I don't want to share my pain; I'd as soon keep it private, thank you very much.

And furthermore: if you see me, you'd best be kissing my ass or bending down at my feet.  You'd best be showing me some dignity or respect 'cause if you don't shape up fast, heads are gonna start rolling ... and the heads ain't gonna include MINE.

~To be continued.~