(no subject)
I've been sitting here for twenty minutes trying to figure out just what my entry is supposed to be about. I scratched it all a couple times and started over. I don't know how to explain what exactly I think and how just I feel, because honestly... I don't think anymore, and I stopped feeling awhile ago. I don't sleep at night; I find myself staring at the ceiling and gripped by a cold hand of insomnia even when I'm exhausted. Eating is a chore now... I open my mouth, shove food in it and chew. Tasting the same thing over and over again has pretty much made my taste buds unable to register what I'm even chewing. I barely have an appetite anymore, anyway. One hundred and forty degree heat is unrelenting, but it's something that doesn't broil me anymore like it used to. Uniforms that turn white with salt from my pours and sweat drenching every part of my body is something that doesn't phase me, even with one hundred pounds of armor, ammo and equipment on. I loathe patrols, but I also detest being on the FOB. Everything here is a complete mind numbing blur, and I feel so far detached from reality that it feels like that our redeployment is a joke. Memories of better times are all but impossible for my mind to conjure up, and I feel like I'm not a part of anybodies life anymore. My life is one day at a time, lived by daily time hacks and weekly comsec changes. Saying I feel like a robot would be misleading, because that would mean that I feel something. I am a robot. Home doesn't exist for me right now, and I don't know why. I just feel like I don't have a home anymore. I have this gnawing, awful fear that one day I'll be home and the people I care about won't care about me anymore, or already have stopped caring. The last time I saw someone I cared about was December 8th, 2007. The distance just seems to keep growing, despite the time here getting shorter. I don't know how to climb out of this hole anymore.