After I returned home from Iraq nothing was the same. Everything became artificial. The events and activities I once found pleasure in become generic and lacked the zest I once sought after. My days quickly transformed into hour after hour of depression, survivors guilt, and anger. I was tangled in a downward spiral of self-loathing obsessing over intrusive thoughts that played me like a puppet.
The VA tried to help me but failed after the third round of chemical concoctions pressured upon me by my mental health doctor. I started to feel like a lab rat. I felt like nothing and no one could help me. I was now looking for anyway out of my personal