― Fyodor Dostoyevsky
I recently came across the above quote while reading Viktor E. Frankl's Man's Search for Meaning. At the VA Hospital where I am currently, the head of the psychology department gave me her copy and asked me to read it. I got halfway through it before I gave it back to her and bought it on my kindle so I could keep the highlights for reference.
I'm amazed that this book hasn't come across my path before this. It's once again, if I had read this a year ago, two years ago, I'm sure my current situation wouldn't be in as dire straits. It seems that the universe has this tendency to give me the test first and the lesson afterwards. And maybe, just maybe, the experience is what makes the lessons stick.
I'm amazed that this book hasn't come across my path before this. It's once again, if I had read this a year ago, two years ago, I'm sure my current situation wouldn't be in as dire straits. It seems that the universe has this tendency to give me the test first and the lesson afterwards. And maybe, just maybe, the experience is what makes the lessons stick.
Most of my adult life has either been ran by desperation, guilt, or shame. Usually a mix of all three. In the USAF, my heart had been subject to ridicule, my desperation to fit in led to my shame, and the guilt of what I had done pressed as a mountain of weight upon my soul. However, through most of that I kept my faith in the Christian god and the silly mantra of "carrying my cross" got me through many things that would have otherwise been impossible. I should have remembered that sometimes silly things are true.
In Frankl's book, he talks about his experiences as a prisoner who experienced life in the Nazi concentration camps as a psychologist. He even mentions that many of the things he remembers is due to an strange clinical interest, and credits his survival not only to luck but his training as well. I find that the soldier's life and a prisoner's life are strangely similar. That if one truly gets down to it, both are trapped by ideology, have their humanity broken, and ultimately seek escape from reality in some form or another. Though I know many atheists that come from the military or that have served, if they were to continue their own search for something greater than themselves, I'm sure they'd have a better understanding of the spiritual path than most.
In Frankl's book, he talks about his experiences as a prisoner who experienced life in the Nazi concentration camps as a psychologist. He even mentions that many of the things he remembers is due to an strange clinical interest, and credits his survival not only to luck but his training as well. I find that the soldier's life and a prisoner's life are strangely similar. That if one truly gets down to it, both are trapped by ideology, have their humanity broken, and ultimately seek escape from reality in some form or another. Though I know many atheists that come from the military or that have served, if they were to continue their own search for something greater than themselves, I'm sure they'd have a better understanding of the spiritual path than most.
My escape from the drone program liberated me. I was no longer subject to the whims of those that have been disconnected from their humanity. Where those that sit behind the screen experience the life of war through a digital lens and forget the cost of living. When I got into the Reserves, I told them that I would only participate if they got me into the SERE program. I had met some of the Guardian Angel Weapon System's brood and I had felt that after my disappointment in the Drone program, I could rebuild my confidence in myself and my country by finally getting my hands dirty without having to place myself in a position to take another's life unless absolutely necessary.
When I got injured shortly after I started the official indoctrination, the head of the program gave me the opportunity to come back after I had gotten better. When I got back to my Reserves squadron, where I should have gotten medical help, they simply kicked me to the curb and told me to take care of myself, then placed me inactive instead of giving me my medical discharge. Since then I've had to fight for my medical care. And that has been humiliating in itself.
From the moment of my accident, time seemed to stop flowing normally. After my dead appeared to me, I was trapped in a continuous loop of memory. Whenever I'd closed my eyes everything would be in infrared and I could no longer tell you where I was. I'd re-experience my events as if they were new, though I would know the outcome. It was as if Nietzsche's Allegory of the Demon was a literal thing, though it wasn't a demon that held me prisoner of my thoughts, it was my trauma. A more real demon in itself.
From the moment of my accident, time seemed to stop flowing normally. After my dead appeared to me, I was trapped in a continuous loop of memory. Whenever I'd closed my eyes everything would be in infrared and I could no longer tell you where I was. I'd re-experience my events as if they were new, though I would know the outcome. It was as if Nietzsche's Allegory of the Demon was a literal thing, though it wasn't a demon that held me prisoner of my thoughts, it was my trauma. A more real demon in itself.
When I met Nicola Abe who wrote the Der Spiegel article concerning drones that appeared 14 December 2012, I was trapped in that loop and barely knew what I was truly experiencing. I was in multiple places and times at once. But when the article came out on the 17th in English, where I had envisioned that the American people would see and my compatriots would be heard, and we, as a people, would join in to stop the horrific processes that we were participating in.... all the world crashed into one bright moment of rage. Four days Later, I would start to Awaken.
I was over at my best friend's house getting ready to play some Dungeons & Dragons. I had spent the previous days fighting with the VA, having traveled 8 hours for them to fuck up my neuropsyche appointments, with no food or money, and having to travel back home empty handed. When I wasn't dealing with the VA, I was fighting with anonymous people online who claimed to have known me in the service and doing my best to defend myself against their stupidity. If I could get any angrier I would have turned large and green.
My buddy must have seen that I needed to calm down, so he made a marijuana joint and handed it to me. I had never smoked before. He told me to go outside and smoke the whole thing. When I came back in, the world was a better place and I had probably the most fun I could remember in a long time. While that night eased my transition into the waking world, I now had more to contend with than I had ever thought possible. I was now against the people and the government that I loved, and it was because I followed the training and belief system that they gave me.
My faith, however, was dead. God had abandoned me to this hell but even a soldier has his duty when all seemed lost. I had my dreams taken from me, my hopes, my health. The MRSA infection that I had gotten at the San Antonio Military Medical Center nearly killed me twice, and because I was susceptible to it, I wasn't sure when it would finally end me. I had nothing else, so I decided to fight until the bitter end.
Six months after the Der Spiegel article, Edward Snowden made his appearance. Which probably saved my hide by redirecting a ton of angst his way. Though the attention that I was receiving was both good and bad (you'd be surprised at how many people have wanted to hook up with me, men and women), I ignored anything but the negative. I was scared to get into a Julian Assange situation so I abstained from sex for over two years. Since I had lost almost all of my friends and pretty much been excommunicated from my family, I had no other distractions. Though I eventually fell into the trap of excessive video gaming to distract me from the pain and depression of loneliness, I was constantly wondering when my time would be up.
I wasn't hiding from anyone. The threats I had been receiving were almost daily, mostly from fellow veterans and Christian conservatives. I was coaching wrestling at one of the local high schools, though that ended because one of the parents went to the school faculty and claimed that I was a "traitor to the country," and because I wasn't christian I was a danger to her children. Life just fell apart and kept falling apart.
Then I connected with a couple of veterans who claimed to be on my side and agree with me. They were bitter and angry as well, and I could preach from my heart and not have to worry about judgement or disagreement. It was then that I had my first experience with MDMA, and I mistook the feelings that generated for love. That experience ended in massive betrayal.
One of the veterans that I spent time with was a woman. And while we did connect, she had been involved with another woman, and I was busy fighting my own fight. We hung out with strippers and people that lived in the grey area of society. I mention the strippers because they told me that for them it was a form of empowerment, they were in absolute control in a safe setting. And I became friends with quiet a few of them, probably because I never made a move or tried anything. They felt safe with me because of my issues with intimacy and closeness, and I learned that they are human beings like myself, struggling with life every day in their own way.
In February 2014, I had gotten the idea to do a male amateur night veteran fund raiser at the local strip joint. Everyone thought it was a good idea, but I was the only one that actually went through with it. Since the VA was snubbing me I needed a way to make money to pay bills. I made $800 that night for shaking daddy's little money maker. Then they hired me to do bachelorette parties around the Pacific Northwest. For me, it wasn't about the sex, it was about taking control of my sexuality. In a way it was me combating the women who took my choice of giving myself away, the ones who abused my innocence. I never crossed the line with anyone, though I was solicited more than a few times, and once by the bride herself. I was in control, and I denied them any gratification in taking any from me. It cost me money a few times. But in a weird way it was my control that mattered. Now I can laugh at the absurdity of what I had to do before the VA finally came through.
***
I mention all of this because during this time I was traveling back and forth to Europe, I had spoken in front of the UN, and done a ton of other things, but my personal life was a mess. An absolute mess. The female veteran that I had fallen "in love" with under the influence of drugs destroyed me, but I still had my duty. And even then, fighting against those artificially developed processes had been an uphill battle. I was only able to get through it because of my ability to forgive, otherwise the madness of anger would have destroyed everything else about me. I had been foolish to let myself be vulnerable to that degree. My nightmares were also getting worse because I was speaking about my experiences all the time. But again, I had believed in my duty so much, that I had deserved that pain and sorrow, I could make it through. I had my reason why for the how.
In March 2015, I ended up with another girl, but this time was entirely selfish. I was being stalked by some people and I had felt the need to get out of Missoula, so I went to another State and city entirely. I met this girl on a dating site, stayed at her place for a few weeks, and ended up getting called by the FBI wondering where I was at. They had told me that I wasn't in trouble and that I shouldn't tell anyone that they called me. So I called my lawyer as soon as I got off the phone with them.
With that event the girl realized what she had gotten into and whatever we could have had fell apart. It didn't affect me, other than I felt guilty for using her, and so I was on my way back to Missoula shortly thereafter. This was April of 2015.
When I got back to Missoula, I had an warrant for my arrest. Back in December of 2014, I was walking my dog when he went up to greet a small chihuahua, and the small dog bit through his lip. The guy kicked my dog in the head, then proceeded to scream at me and try to pick a fight with me. He then reported me to the police for "beating my dog" got his neighbors to also give reports, and nearly got me thrown in prison for 6 months, according to the Judge. The only thing that saved me was the security video footage. My public defense attorney disappeared without a trace, gave me the wrong dates to show up to court, which got me the warrant. I ended up standing up for myself and somehow getting the prosecution to agree for a deferment (he was determined to put me behind bars because he "knew" i was guilty and the judge told me that being a Veteran with PTSD is just an excuse that weak men make), then left for Germany to testify to the German Bundestag. I was supposed to go earlier, but they had to delay it because I couldn't leave the county without handling this.
And I did it all on my own. Thirty minutes after we leave the courthouse, I take my dog to the dog park and he gets attacked again. I had to take him to the hospital because his front leg got tore up, and the dog/owner that did it disappeared immediately after it happened. It's almost like somebody was trying to fuck with me and delay my testimony.
I was over at my best friend's house getting ready to play some Dungeons & Dragons. I had spent the previous days fighting with the VA, having traveled 8 hours for them to fuck up my neuropsyche appointments, with no food or money, and having to travel back home empty handed. When I wasn't dealing with the VA, I was fighting with anonymous people online who claimed to have known me in the service and doing my best to defend myself against their stupidity. If I could get any angrier I would have turned large and green.
My buddy must have seen that I needed to calm down, so he made a marijuana joint and handed it to me. I had never smoked before. He told me to go outside and smoke the whole thing. When I came back in, the world was a better place and I had probably the most fun I could remember in a long time. While that night eased my transition into the waking world, I now had more to contend with than I had ever thought possible. I was now against the people and the government that I loved, and it was because I followed the training and belief system that they gave me.
My faith, however, was dead. God had abandoned me to this hell but even a soldier has his duty when all seemed lost. I had my dreams taken from me, my hopes, my health. The MRSA infection that I had gotten at the San Antonio Military Medical Center nearly killed me twice, and because I was susceptible to it, I wasn't sure when it would finally end me. I had nothing else, so I decided to fight until the bitter end.
Six months after the Der Spiegel article, Edward Snowden made his appearance. Which probably saved my hide by redirecting a ton of angst his way. Though the attention that I was receiving was both good and bad (you'd be surprised at how many people have wanted to hook up with me, men and women), I ignored anything but the negative. I was scared to get into a Julian Assange situation so I abstained from sex for over two years. Since I had lost almost all of my friends and pretty much been excommunicated from my family, I had no other distractions. Though I eventually fell into the trap of excessive video gaming to distract me from the pain and depression of loneliness, I was constantly wondering when my time would be up.
I wasn't hiding from anyone. The threats I had been receiving were almost daily, mostly from fellow veterans and Christian conservatives. I was coaching wrestling at one of the local high schools, though that ended because one of the parents went to the school faculty and claimed that I was a "traitor to the country," and because I wasn't christian I was a danger to her children. Life just fell apart and kept falling apart.
Then I connected with a couple of veterans who claimed to be on my side and agree with me. They were bitter and angry as well, and I could preach from my heart and not have to worry about judgement or disagreement. It was then that I had my first experience with MDMA, and I mistook the feelings that generated for love. That experience ended in massive betrayal.
One of the veterans that I spent time with was a woman. And while we did connect, she had been involved with another woman, and I was busy fighting my own fight. We hung out with strippers and people that lived in the grey area of society. I mention the strippers because they told me that for them it was a form of empowerment, they were in absolute control in a safe setting. And I became friends with quiet a few of them, probably because I never made a move or tried anything. They felt safe with me because of my issues with intimacy and closeness, and I learned that they are human beings like myself, struggling with life every day in their own way.
In February 2014, I had gotten the idea to do a male amateur night veteran fund raiser at the local strip joint. Everyone thought it was a good idea, but I was the only one that actually went through with it. Since the VA was snubbing me I needed a way to make money to pay bills. I made $800 that night for shaking daddy's little money maker. Then they hired me to do bachelorette parties around the Pacific Northwest. For me, it wasn't about the sex, it was about taking control of my sexuality. In a way it was me combating the women who took my choice of giving myself away, the ones who abused my innocence. I never crossed the line with anyone, though I was solicited more than a few times, and once by the bride herself. I was in control, and I denied them any gratification in taking any from me. It cost me money a few times. But in a weird way it was my control that mattered. Now I can laugh at the absurdity of what I had to do before the VA finally came through.
***
I mention all of this because during this time I was traveling back and forth to Europe, I had spoken in front of the UN, and done a ton of other things, but my personal life was a mess. An absolute mess. The female veteran that I had fallen "in love" with under the influence of drugs destroyed me, but I still had my duty. And even then, fighting against those artificially developed processes had been an uphill battle. I was only able to get through it because of my ability to forgive, otherwise the madness of anger would have destroyed everything else about me. I had been foolish to let myself be vulnerable to that degree. My nightmares were also getting worse because I was speaking about my experiences all the time. But again, I had believed in my duty so much, that I had deserved that pain and sorrow, I could make it through. I had my reason why for the how.
In March 2015, I ended up with another girl, but this time was entirely selfish. I was being stalked by some people and I had felt the need to get out of Missoula, so I went to another State and city entirely. I met this girl on a dating site, stayed at her place for a few weeks, and ended up getting called by the FBI wondering where I was at. They had told me that I wasn't in trouble and that I shouldn't tell anyone that they called me. So I called my lawyer as soon as I got off the phone with them.
With that event the girl realized what she had gotten into and whatever we could have had fell apart. It didn't affect me, other than I felt guilty for using her, and so I was on my way back to Missoula shortly thereafter. This was April of 2015.
When I got back to Missoula, I had an warrant for my arrest. Back in December of 2014, I was walking my dog when he went up to greet a small chihuahua, and the small dog bit through his lip. The guy kicked my dog in the head, then proceeded to scream at me and try to pick a fight with me. He then reported me to the police for "beating my dog" got his neighbors to also give reports, and nearly got me thrown in prison for 6 months, according to the Judge. The only thing that saved me was the security video footage. My public defense attorney disappeared without a trace, gave me the wrong dates to show up to court, which got me the warrant. I ended up standing up for myself and somehow getting the prosecution to agree for a deferment (he was determined to put me behind bars because he "knew" i was guilty and the judge told me that being a Veteran with PTSD is just an excuse that weak men make), then left for Germany to testify to the German Bundestag. I was supposed to go earlier, but they had to delay it because I couldn't leave the county without handling this.
And I did it all on my own. Thirty minutes after we leave the courthouse, I take my dog to the dog park and he gets attacked again. I had to take him to the hospital because his front leg got tore up, and the dog/owner that did it disappeared immediately after it happened. It's almost like somebody was trying to fuck with me and delay my testimony.
***
As we get closer and closer to the end, should we ask ourselves: To what is this ending worth?
As we get closer and closer to the end, should we ask ourselves: To what is this ending worth?
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