This is a letter to myself outlining and explaining my goals for 2012.
It's 2012. It's time. You can't deny it anymore. You can't pretend it didn't happen. It did. Until you get it off your chest by writing about it, it's going to haunt you forever. You have taken the first step. You told your psychiatrist. Finally. It's taken you eight years to tell him, but you did it. Now you need to write about it. The war. The source of your Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder and your Depression is buried - stuffed - deep in your soul, waiting to be released in whatever words seem appropriate to express your time in the military in the Middle East. It's been twelve years. It's time to get it off your chest. You owe it to your buddies that died to write about their deeds over there. You were a good bunch. You followed orders. You were brave - especially brave - and you need to talk about that. You need to talk about how you felt about being a machine-gunner in the middle of the Desert getting shot at in defense of others that you didn't even know. You risked your life and you somehow got out alive. How do you feel about that? You need to talk about how you feel about your buddies dying, the enemy dying, anybody dying. How did you feel about the war? You have never talked about it to anyone but your doctor. Thank God you have your doctor! It's time to share your experiences with a broader audience, though. Tell people about what the war was really like. Tell people about what it is like to have to kill someone, to have one of your buddies die in your arms, to watch one troop murder another out of madness, to have the Desert fever overwhelm a man and cause him to take off running across that God-forsaken Desert without his boots or his rifle, screaming that he just has to get away. People don't know unless you tell them. You, my friend, will never get over the trauma of these experiences unless you get them off your chest and down on paper, either. Do yourself a favor. Do it in 2012. Now.
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