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Military An Honest Assessment & An Actual Title

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@Cashew I really do like your "always forward" approach to this sort of thing. I may have to work on adopting it myself. Although sometimes I feel like there is definitely some things I can't get away from, I might be able to get to the point of being able to better deal with them.
And that's going forward, I suppose.
 
One of the major things that continues to bother me is people like my Mother.
Today she sent me a picture of some hyped up masculine bullshit trumping the "sacrifice" that we made for "freedom" and how worth while it was.
I had to stop myself from sending her a still from some post firefight footage when we came up on the bodies.
How'd you like to see that Mom?
Would you be so proud then? If you really knew what I did? That the little boy"
 
You're so proud of puts holes in people's heads for a living? Would you want to talk about it with all your friends and keep copies of my decorations on the wall in the office at home like you do?
Or would you be ashamed like I am, and take that shit down and put it in a box far away, never to speak of it again?
I don't know what you'd do, because you already try to understand me with things like this, which only widens the gap between you and I.
There's a big part of me that just wants to make you understand who and what I am, and another part of me that appreciates your innocence and hopes you never truly have to understand.
Because once you cross that threshold, you realize the only sacrifice you made that you can't regain, is your humanity.
So there it is, the subject that's been on my mind all damn day, and keeping me awake well into the night.
Sometimes you think you're being nice and doing something thoughtful, but you're really pushing someone's buttons that have already been pushed enough.
 
Sometimes you think you're being nice and doing something thoughtful, but you're really pushing someone's buttons...

Have you considered writing her an email/letter how you feel? Telling her you "don't want to discuss it," but how these things hurt you? How you don't want to be reminded, nor tell her things you had to do. That your trying to protect her from such knowledge. Just a suggestion...
 
Or would you be ashamed like I am, and take that shit down and put it in a box far away, never to speak of it again?
The piece of your writing that centers on shame really strikes me. I wonder if you can elaborate on where the shame comes from. Guilt, remorse, regret... those are all easier beasts to cope with than shame. It pains me to hear you grapple with it; it is insidious and pervasive and so difficult to tame into something that can be coped with. As I said on a thread of mine, (paraphrasing) embarassment/guilt/regret is "What I did was wrong," whereas shame is much more, "I am wrong." It's more personal, more taken upon the Self.

Mothers are different. But you've written about romantic partners and children. I want you to know that I have little (I won't insult him or you by saying no) illusion about what my boyfriend did in Iraq. I have read enough here from other vets to have some clue, heard enough from his own mouth to know the gruesomeness that permeates his experience, and I think nothing less of him for it. If anything, the scars make him all the more human to me, more human that the puppets whose humanity is measured by how well they dance through the masquerade ball of a comfortable life in "civilized" society.

Hugs if you accept them (((Grunt))).
 
It's appreciated, last night I vented after a long day of being chewed away at by guilt. The shame is just really that, shame. I don't want to have those reminders hanging up on the wall for me to see every time I come home, it's part of the reason I avoid the entire room. She's proud of something she doesn't understand, to her it's a shadow box full of pride and nobility, because she's always been fixed on this idea that even though we may have had to do this or that, it was always justifiable as being an honest cause for the greater good. Which simply was not true.
And each and every one of those decorations holds a different story and a different piece of something that I have no desire to even think about, much less display for everyone to see.
Maybe what else you said is true, in the eyes of others we are more human from having done so much, but I don't know anyone who went through the ringer, saw the elephant, and was still the same afterwards.
My Mom is just that, a Mom. She only can see the best in her son no matter what the truth may actually be and as frustrating and tormenting as that is, it's just the way it is.
It's one of the reasons I moved my things in with my Dad for the duration of my time in the service.
There's no silent glaring reminders on the walls there, we just don't talk about it. Which is fine with me.
 
Could you tell her that?

That the items really hold different memories to you, and as much as you appreciate her care and pride and love, it is best for you to not be reminded of things?

She can, after all, show pride of you in different ways. Not in something that hurts heckuva deep.
 
Maybe, I don't know. She has a peculiar way of rationalizing things. To the point that I'd rather just not deal with the issue and avoid it entirely. Maybe that's something that's wrong, but I don't know. I'm a firm believer that there are some things you just can't make people understand. Especially those that have already formed an opinion about something. She'd be offended if I tried to explain it to her basically, and I honestly don't have the patience to deal with the subject.
 
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