I absolutely loved working in some of the shittiest bits of Africa.
I'm only just beginning to question my motives, after reading @Casey_03 's thread https://www.myptsd.com/threads/job-offer-but-a-dangerous-one.50750/ last night, and the posts by @FridayJones and @darrenS .
whether it's the red dust and the smell of wood smoke in the villages, or the fermenting trash and green and black water in the plastic bag strewn open sewers (and children playing in them) of the urban slums - there just seems to be something that gets into me, and sticks there.
There's a strange feeling of being very alive. Can those of you who have been in military shItholes relate to that?
Does anyone else feel the attraction to go back to places like that?
I'm only just beginning to question my motives, after reading @Casey_03 's thread https://www.myptsd.com/threads/job-offer-but-a-dangerous-one.50750/ last night, and the posts by @FridayJones and @darrenS .
whether it's the red dust and the smell of wood smoke in the villages, or the fermenting trash and green and black water in the plastic bag strewn open sewers (and children playing in them) of the urban slums - there just seems to be something that gets into me, and sticks there.
There's a strange feeling of being very alive. Can those of you who have been in military shItholes relate to that?
Does anyone else feel the attraction to go back to places like that?