HOW DBD BECAME DBD. PART ONE.

Since I am using this blog for my Psychology final, and we are studying PTSD (post-traumatic stress disorder) I am going to blog about DBD. I haven‘t really written about my ex-hubby aka DBD and how he came to be my ex-hubby aka DBD. DBD is also an ex-military guy. Can’t say what branch. But don’t worry - they are all equally fucked up. I am all for respectin’, shakin’ hands, pats’ on shoulders, given credit where its due, etc…respect all around for those who are responsible for my freedom. But, with that honor comes responsibility. And when these guys return and don’t follow thru with their responsibilities; making MY (and thousands of others) children sacrifice the family they were entitled to grow up in - well, that just pissed me right off. My children (and thousands of others) are not of age to give consent to give up the lives that they were entitled to have - for our country; but that’s exactly what all 3 of them did and yes - this subject PISSES ME RIGHT OFF - so to those that are offended, well, its MY story, MY opinion and its MY blog so with that warning; continue reading at your own risk:

This government, the U.S. government, doesn’t give two shits about returning veterans or what happens to their families. Once your home and your contracts are up - that door opens and they literally kick you in the ass out it. Or they Stop-Loss you for 2 more years, fuck you up, and then kick your ass out the door. They don’t want Christmas Cards, your forwarding address, return visits, nothing. They are DONE with you. Goodbye, adios, farewell, see ya. They do not care about the thousands of U.S. children (and spouses, friends and family members) of these returning combat-veterans that have suffered and are still suffering so that another country can benefit. Don’t get me wrong. I am all for hanging that fucking bastard Suddam by his balls. But NOT at the expense of U.S families. NOT at the expense of MY family. NOT if it means that my children have now lost the privilege of growing up in a two-parent household with a father who loves them. That shit just pisses me right off because my children NEVER HAD A CHOICE. Wow - I am getting WAY off topic. This subject does that to me - I can feel my blood pressure rising. I think I need a time out - this is just as bad as when I wrote my essay last term about George W. Bush - yeah, he gets my blood boiling. Luckily for me, my English Professor is a Democrat - I got an “A”.

But where was I? Oh, yeah - why DBD is a DBD. We had been married for 8 years when he was sent over to Iraq. His unit was one of the first ones over - before Bush declared the war he INTENDED to start when he took office. DBD chilled in Kuwait for about a month before his unit was ORDERED to invade. He was one of those veterans who were NOT there for rebuilding. He was NOT there to ask questions. Not there to keep peace and order. He was there in the beginning. He was there to shoot to KILL; fuck the questions. Men, women, CHILDREN. Hard to believe how so many combat-veterans came back fucked up eh? DBD's unit was among those first in Baghdad. I remember Violet waking me up in the middle of the night and her, Raye and I watched the military help the Iraqi citizens knock over the statue of Saddam. DBD was there. His unit lost only 1 man. The press reported it as killed in battle but that’s not what happened. 75% of what the press reported was NOT what happened. There is so much COVER-UP that I’m not sure if the story-tellers can keep their stories straight. The man they lost was run over by their own hummer. In his sleeping bag. While he slept. Makes me wonder how many men & women we lost to our own. Knowing that just makes that war even less understandable to me. DBD was over there for about 5 months. His unit was shipped home after the invasion while other units were shipped over to rebuild. He was infantry. His job was to invade and kill; not rebuild. 

He was fine when he returned. At first. But just how is a person “fine” after that? How do you shoot a child and just be “fine”? I do NOT blame him for not being “fine”. I can’t imagine what he saw. What he did. He went to the VA for help. He was diagnosed with PTSD. He was assigned therapy and prescribed medication that he said made him feel like a “robot” so he stopped taking it. Then we started receiving bills for his therapy. Treatment is suppose to be free to veterans but when we couldn’t pay. They wouldn’t help. That’s when the trouble began. The anger. The violence. The drinking. The gambling. The arrests. The inability to care. About anyone. I became the enemy. I didn’t even recognize my own husband anymore. So now - my children are growing up in a broken home. Without a father. DBD lost his children, his wife, his home, his truck and just last month - his job. Yep - I think that’s what they call “rock bottom”. All so the people of Iraq could be free. Yes. it’s a great cause. But NOT at the expense of my children...