As a former US Army Sniper and contractor for the infamous Black Water USA military contracting company, I spent years in combat. It is through years of battle that I saw the hurt war caused and the separation it not only creates from home, but from self.
The real battle for me started when I came home. All the change and hurt that sculpted a new psyche wasn’t seen until it could be contrasted against the backdrop of something besides war. Through the outlet of writing prose, essays and short stories of experiences, I began to heal. My non-fiction writing and stories are a glimpse into the mind of a soldier now home and wrestling with the guilt of survival.
The Rear Naked Choke And Motivation
I was teaching Jiu Jitsu recently. While teaching,I thought a lot about how my internal drives and motivation are sometimes used in the wrong way. We were going over the most iconic of moves in combative wrestling. The Rear Naked Choke. For the...
Expanded view of religion and god- Mona lisa and a Straw
I remember the first time I saw a dead body. Two of my friends were killed by a drunk driver and I had to identify them. It was a head on collision where both vehicles were going around seventy miles per hour. It took a long time of staring at their mangled corpses to...
Bad-Assery is a thing
Roy P. Benavidez is a bad ass mother fucker. On May 2nd, 1968 he spent six hours in hell. He was shot seven times. One time was in the back, and the bullet exited his chest just below his heart. He had 28 pieces of shrapnel in his body and he had been stabbed no less...
Flames that melted my heart
I've written about my son in the past. Maybe it’s because he’s a conflagration of love, pride and hope for the future. Maybe it’s because children are the bright and shiny embodiment of possibility in every parent’s eyes. Or, maybe it’s because he is the thing we...
Ten-speed vs. a quarter pipe
I tried to ride a ten speed off a skateboard ramp once. We had just moved into the crappy rental house on the street. It was kind of exciting because living in a house was not something we always got to do. I was ten years old, and the kids who lived on the...
War Is Never Over – PTSD and its effects
For years I thought the idea of saying I had PTSD was bad. I viewed it as a term of weakness. I didn’t live through Vietnam so what I saw and went through wasn’t bad enough to warrant something so horrible. Sounds silly, but it was what I thought and...
Chekhov’s Gun
Anton Chekhov eloquently stated years ago a simple fact with respect to story construction. If you have a gun leaning against the wall during the first act of a play, you better use it in the second act. Otherwise, get rid of the gun. This is an important ideal, it...
Confidence
My last post was about getting bullied and how it took years for me to realize how it hurt my own confidence. I've spent the past few weeks thinking about the source of confidence in more detail. I'm doing this project at work right now. Most people love it, some...
Punch me in the face, it’s good for me.
Growing up, I wasn't very good at fighting. I didn't do it often and if I did, I lost. I was a decent wrestler for a few years, but outside of a matted floor, I wasn't much. I remember the first time I was bullied badly. There was this kid named Noel...
Working on Septic
I don't write poetry. I suppose I used to be able to say that. Can't say it anymore though, because there's this. I went on a cruise a and met some cool people. One of them was a veteran like me. He was a full steam ahead veteran versus my more laid back and "I could...