Hhhh.
I just want to SCREAM!
Just ... repressing feelings for a bit. I'm overwhelmed by feelings of melancholy, severely. I'm leaving soon, to go back to the US, from Iraq here. Soon I'll be back in North Carolina, and then I'm going to go see my family and...
There's nothing. There is absolutely nothing to go home for. Everyone here is so happy, so relieved. To see their kids, their wives, their wonderful families. I know I get to go home to see my brother and see his happy life, and as painful as it'll be to ... be able to for a few days pretend to be a civilian and see what Life Might Have Been... but I know I'm better for this. For becoming a man here. But it's hard to look out at their lives and not regret, in some way, even if you're happy with what you did ... that they get to be happy.
And then I go see my parents. And all it's going to be is day after day of screams and arguments and issues and drama that makes my chest tighten...
And then I go back to North Carolina, and live for work. Get up, go to work, obediently, go to the room, go to sleep, wake up...
And there's nothing. There's nothing to look forward to. I have no hopes and no dreams that I can attain. Once I'm out, I intend now to go to Medical School: This is my decision. I am going to Medical School.
But I can't do this until I'm out. And that's two years. And so I have no aspirations at home, I have ... I don't know. I have nothing. I packed my things, we're ready to leave already but not just yet are we going -- but it occurs to me as I packed: My life really is, effectively, able to fit into two %$#@ing bags.
Allan K. Chalmers has this to say: "The Grand essentials of happiness are: something to do, something to love, and something to hope for."
I have something to do. Occasionally.
So there's just this ... vacancy in me, while staring at others being happy without finding it inside me. No hope. And then there's romance -- I keep wanting it, but it keeps disappointing. And I just ... I don't know. I worry I want it too much. That I'm too desperate. And it just makes me close off a little. Internally, mostly, even if I put on smiles. Because I'm scared. But that's just a tiny bit. It's mostly ... anger at the family dysfunction I have to "look forward to", and then the tediousness that is work, and then ... what?
And, y'know, I'm usually pretty good at shifting sorrow. I really am. I have always been excellent at telling myself "It could be worse. Look at this example." There's still only so long you can guilt trip yourself out of pain. And as I see so many people so happy, and can't find one thing to be happy for about coming home - in fact, the only thing I even feel is annoyance at losing the pay I get here.
I want to be happy. I don't know what that means. But I know that I want it. I've been happy before, I know. But I'm not anymore. I really want to think I don't need someone to be with to be happy... but I wouldn't mind it. But I at least need a friend who understands.
Because I'd rather talk. But I just want to scream.
Just ... repressing feelings for a bit. I'm overwhelmed by feelings of melancholy, severely. I'm leaving soon, to go back to the US, from Iraq here. Soon I'll be back in North Carolina, and then I'm going to go see my family and...
There's nothing. There is absolutely nothing to go home for. Everyone here is so happy, so relieved. To see their kids, their wives, their wonderful families. I know I get to go home to see my brother and see his happy life, and as painful as it'll be to ... be able to for a few days pretend to be a civilian and see what Life Might Have Been... but I know I'm better for this. For becoming a man here. But it's hard to look out at their lives and not regret, in some way, even if you're happy with what you did ... that they get to be happy.
And then I go see my parents. And all it's going to be is day after day of screams and arguments and issues and drama that makes my chest tighten...
And then I go back to North Carolina, and live for work. Get up, go to work, obediently, go to the room, go to sleep, wake up...
And there's nothing. There's nothing to look forward to. I have no hopes and no dreams that I can attain. Once I'm out, I intend now to go to Medical School: This is my decision. I am going to Medical School.
But I can't do this until I'm out. And that's two years. And so I have no aspirations at home, I have ... I don't know. I have nothing. I packed my things, we're ready to leave already but not just yet are we going -- but it occurs to me as I packed: My life really is, effectively, able to fit into two %$#@ing bags.
Allan K. Chalmers has this to say: "The Grand essentials of happiness are: something to do, something to love, and something to hope for."
I have something to do. Occasionally.
So there's just this ... vacancy in me, while staring at others being happy without finding it inside me. No hope. And then there's romance -- I keep wanting it, but it keeps disappointing. And I just ... I don't know. I worry I want it too much. That I'm too desperate. And it just makes me close off a little. Internally, mostly, even if I put on smiles. Because I'm scared. But that's just a tiny bit. It's mostly ... anger at the family dysfunction I have to "look forward to", and then the tediousness that is work, and then ... what?
And, y'know, I'm usually pretty good at shifting sorrow. I really am. I have always been excellent at telling myself "It could be worse. Look at this example." There's still only so long you can guilt trip yourself out of pain. And as I see so many people so happy, and can't find one thing to be happy for about coming home - in fact, the only thing I even feel is annoyance at losing the pay I get here.
I want to be happy. I don't know what that means. But I know that I want it. I've been happy before, I know. But I'm not anymore. I really want to think I don't need someone to be with to be happy... but I wouldn't mind it. But I at least need a friend who understands.
Because I'd rather talk. But I just want to scream.