I have written many stories, all exaggerated, about my walk in darkness. Yet, for all my writing, I never have written of how it started. Cue my struggles with alcoholism and drug addiction. It is a simple thing to blame it on my addiction or my change at the hands of war fighting. There are multiple reasons that led to my darkness. My struggle with addiction are only symptoms of my disease.
Like many folks, my descent into darkness happened quickly. It started with me leaving Ft. Hood and moving to Germany. At Ft. Hood, Texas field exercises were about two weeks long. Home was 10-15 minutes away at any given time.
In Germany, field exercises were 90 days and took place in various parts of Europe. I spent more time in the field than I did with my family. More time with my soldiers than with my children. I gave my devotion to the Army and my career, instead of to the woman to whom I swore undying love and loyalty.
As I write these words tonight, my issue is made manifest to me. I had my priorities in the wrong order. My ex-wife once told me, “you’re a great provider but a horrible husband and father.” The more things fell apart, the more I focused on my career. Then, I deployed to Iraq for fifteen months. The stress of war, the stress of drowning in the abysmal failure of my marriage, it was too much to bear. To top it all of, I began to have migraine headaches.
When I returned home to Germany, things became even worse. Minor problems caused me to erupt. All too often, I lashed out at my family. They weren’t the problem, they were just available targets for my rage.
Tonight, as I tear the scabs off my heart, I wonder what would have happened if I had sought help earlier. Nothing matters now, what is done is done. There is no life in the past. I know this, but still I need to purge this out of my system. The story of A Walk in Darkness, is my story to tell. It is the story of a man with messed up priorities, who loses his way. It’s not a special story, but it is mine.
My time in Germany morphed me into a hardhearted, calloused, unemotional caricature of the man I once was. To protect myself, I shut down all avenues to my heart. My sole focus rested on the advancement of my career. Moving to Colorado was the final nail into the coffin of my marriage.
At the end of my career and retirement from the Army in Colorado, my last unit was squared away. It didn’t start out that way. At the beginning of my time in Colorado, it was a gigantic Charlie Foxtrot. The structure of the unit was in disarray. The leadership had long given up on righting the ship, and I was one of the only ones who gave a rip about being an example for the lower enlisted to emulate. Hundreds upon thousands of hours was given to the unit, and none was given to correcting the issues in my marriage.
From the first day at the unit until the last, stress was my constant companion. Instead of communicating, I shut down and drowned my problems in Irish whiskey. To alleviate the pain of my failures on all fronts, I popped pills. My self-medication combined with stress, along with numerous traumatic brain injuries (TBI) led me to having a seizure. Then, I had 90 more in seven months. My walk in darkness had already begun, it just became more apparent when I lost everything.
I have been writing this story for a long time. Now that the beginning is on paper, maybe the rest of the story will flow out of my heart and A Walk in Darkness will finally be able to be told.