My friend Art is back in town! (Crazy veteran rant)

By art, I mean art-illery or artillery.

I live about a 10 minutes drive from West Point and all summer they shoot artillery. You can hear it throughout the area and there is almost no way to escape it for at least the month of June and July. That wouldn’t be that much of a problem for me, but I deal with a pretty severe case of PTSD from my combat experiences and the artillery fire really throws me into a tizzy and kicks up my symptoms. Flashbacks and things get really intense which, in turn, leads me to drink and generally go bat-shit crazy. To be honest, I’m not sure if I’m even really hearing artillery fire. It might just be my imagination, like the small arms fire I almost constantly hear or the muzzle flashes I see out of the corner of my eyes.

I’ve been locked up in a psych ward every summer since 2014 and I’m not looking forward to this summer. Unlike years past, I am actually in some pretty intense treatment programs before a hospitalization. Usually I get hospitalized, then I end up in an intense outpatient program for 3-4 months, then I feel better and I kind of drop out, then I start to feel s little wonky in March or so, ignore my symptoms, then I totally lose it by June. So, for the sake of my family, hopefully I’ll stay out and free this summer.

Early summer always does it for me. On 18 June 2004 I was involved in a 24 hour firefight with my platoon. On 20 June 2004 I was blown up by an IED and involved in another brief firefight which resulted in a dead adult and a severely wounded child (which I discovered and was the first person to perform first aid on), then on 22 June 2004 I was blown up again by an IED, then on 24 June 2004 I was involved in a 14 hour firefight in Baqubah. 10 years later, on 25 June 2014, I attempted suicide after my wife and I had an argument and she called me a “coward” and a “killer”. I lost it, ran down to my basement shop, grabbed a razor blade, stuck my arm in my wife’s face, slashed my wrists a bunch of times and sprayed my blood all over her while she called the cops. I walked outside bleeding profusely and I remember that I was trying to cover the entire little front porch of my house with my blood before they came and got me. It was like it was a game for me and I thought it was rather entertaining. I just remember feeling rage like I did in combat. Nothing mattered anymore in that moment, just like when I was getting shot at in combat and I felt good in that moment.

Perhaps I’m just evil and an awful human being, but the only regret I have is that I didn’t attemp suicide earlier or do a better job during my attempt.

I don’t know why I’m still married to her. I don’t think I will ever forgive her for saying that to me, but we have kids and they mean everything to me. I love my kids more than I hate my relationship with my wife and that is what keeps me going. I don’t even dislike my wife. I just don’t know what the hell happened between us over the last 14 years and I hate the current state of our relationship.

Anyways, I’m just sharing and venting. I’m not looking for pitty or anything. Honestly, if I were another forum member, I’d probably not reply or say anything to this post. Tomorrow morning I have my daily appointments with mental health at the VA. To be honest, I love those appointments and being around other vets in various dealing with the same shit as me - it really helps me a lot.

Anyways, I’m not sure if anyone else deals with the same stuff, but if you do, go to the VA - it’s a great place to rest and get a reprieve from the crap floating around in your head. They also give you a free lunch!