Interviewed by Matt Fouts and Neena Anthony
The struggle is real.
During my lifetime, I had the chance to experience a wonderful group of care providers, veterans, and artists. This group was formed from the betterment of me and my healing. Like any other undertaking, the team rolled in slowly at first and then gained momentum as our passions progressed. The only way to accomplish this was to establish an arena of peace, with love being the central element. Then we removed all judgement and prepared ourselves to get to work. My memories of this experience are enlightened every single day. Allow me to share some of my observations and insights.
I remember when guilt had me frozen in fear. Now, peace and love guide my path. I remember when intrusive thoughts filled my head. Now, I write and sing to change my mood. I remember when encouraging others seemed like a menial task. Now, the fruits of my labor are a reason to celebrate. I remember when bad dreams would not allow peaceful slumber. Now, occasionally, I sleep for all the night. I remember the emptiness of losing a loved one. Now, I use my memories as fuel to build a new relationship. I remember the kindness of friends and strangers alike. Now, I return the kindness as often as I can. I remember my youth and the strength that I possessed. Now, I exercise to reclaim my strength. I remember making bad choices in the past. Now, I stop to consider making better choices. I remember feeling lonely most of the time. Now, I use alone time to reflect upon my goals. I remember not wanting to do anything at all. Now, I have enrolled in courses to challenge myself. I remember failing at everything. Now, I succeed at things and I don’t worry about the rest. I remember constant bad moods. Now, I have good days and great days. I remember always worrying about what others thought of me. Now, whatever they think of me is none of my business. I remember not having any friends. Now, I talk to a buddy on the phone every night. I firmly believe that a community that cares for each other can strive and succeed. This is our destiny. A community of providers, veteran, and artists. Let's call upon everyone to join us in order to expand and fulfil our legacies.
These are different words for happy
I feel happy. I experience elation at the time of awakening. I feel joy when I think about what He has done for me. I become gleeful at the art museum. I get excited, and chills, from women artists. I get uplifting vibes from life in general. I become pleasure-filled at the time of completion. I get contentment from positive experiences. I am delighted by the joys of summer. I get enjoyment from loving experiences. I get good spirits from veterans that unite.
Hopefulness in life.
Frustration engulfs me. The tediousness and meticulousness is causing restlessness. I feel not as together as a nameless few. Do I actually know me? Will I learn me? I will continue on. I am looking forward to when this task is complete. This session, this race, the finished product.
I see a man who is encouraged. I see pain with healing. I see aging. I see enjoyable moments. I see gym enhancements. I see my future transfolding. I see me, whether I want to or not. I see me growing. I see pain diminishing. I see love, yes. Ready to give and receive.
The first time I read these was tough, but it's cool now. We veterans sometimes have to go through exposure therapy. We stop the avoidance, we stop not going places, we stop stopping. And then it’s time to do it.
I'm a member of a writing project that's funded by recreational therapy. I entered these in that and one of them made it. I don’t know which one, but that's alright. One of them made the cut. All of us veterans came together. Some of us wrote, some of us read, some of us danced, sang, did artwork. Whatever you can do. Some of us did paint by numbers, but we made it. There’s a few that didn’t, I was one of the ones that did. I feel grateful, I feel blessed, and I'm really excited about the project.
I’ve been writing since I was 17. I remember in basic training, some of the soldiers couldn’t write, and I would write their letters home to them. I would learn about them, write it in my handwriting, then hand it to them so they could write it in their handwriting to send to their loved ones. I did that throughout basic and advanced individual training ‘cause I just liked to write. I express myself that way. Weights get lifted off, and I can just move on.
I’m just starting to write again. I stopped for a while. Well, now I’m back on track.