My *not* Memories About The War
Hey, it’s Jake again. Thanks for continuing to read my blog. I hope it connects with you on some level and helps whatever you may be going through.
As hard as it is for me to write about, I think it’s important both for my recovery and for readers to know some of my war experiences that caused me to have such severe Post Traumatic Stress Disorder when I left the military. The PTSD ultimately led to my drug addiction, so I think you should know what kinds of memories and flashbacks I was having that led me down such a dark path.
I mentioned in my last post that the last thing I want is for anyone to be scared off from joining the military as a result of my blog. I want to reiterate now that I am enormously proud to have served my country, and I have so many opportunities available to me now that I would not have had before. The military even paid for my rehabilitation.
I also want to state that not every soldier will have PTSD after serving in the military. I was just one of the unlucky ones. Everyone who struggles with PTSD will not turn to drugs as I did, either. That was my own decision and my own fault. I cannot blame the military or anyone else for my drug abuse. Please do not think that joining the military is a bad idea or that what happened to me will happen to you, because my experience is just one possible outcome of many and I still am glad I joined the military, in spite of the chain of events it started.
I don’t really want to get into too much detail about the war. It’s unimaginably difficult to talk about, but I know how important it is for readers and my recovery.
My most common flashbacks and nightmares are from one specific instance.
I was driving a tank through a civilian area when we were attacked. I could barely see form all the dust and smoke in the air. My commanding officer told me to keep driving no matter what, so I did. We were trained of the utmost importance of following commands, and there was no way I could disobey orders, so I kept driving. Even as I heard screams and could hear bones crunching beneath the tank, I kept going. The screams and the noises and feel of the bones will follow me to my grave.
Keep reading to learn about my homecoming and how the drug use started.