Todd, I was leaving the office at work when I read your comment, so I grabbed some Taco Bell, now I'm sitting at home with my dogs, musing on your honest reflections. I never thought I was going to die overseas. I don't know why. I was an infantryman on two deployments. I've just always had this sense that I could survive anything. Stupid, I know. Now, after having gone through countless problems, episodes, and trials, I wonder what the fuck it will take to knock me off. Sometimes I just fucking wish it would happen. These days I don't want to kill myself too often, but I still have plenty of days where I wouldn't mind if it happened to me. And I know how cowardly that sounds in the banquet halls of my own head.

Anyone who's ever served in a combat zone understands how cognitively dissonant it is to serve in a combat zone for a full year and then pick up and fly out of a third world country into first world America. In the space of a couple days you go from one end of the spectrum, one world, to a whole other world, and it's mental whiplash. Really hard to process overseas experiences with basically zero interim time.

You were an NCO so maybe you relate to this. I was an officer, so when I returned home my focus was always on the health and welfare of my soldiers. I never considered that I might not be alright myself. My problems really began manifesting long after I left the service.

I have had a lot of people reach out and help me along the way. I have not survived on my own. And sharing my stories with people like you make it a little easier to understand. So I thank you. And thank you for your service. - Roman