I was accused of stolen valor in 2018 and I don’t really care if anyone believes me now. I was in the Marines from 2012 to 2016 and stationed in 29 palms, CA. Had two deployments one to Afghanistan and another to Kuwait. I sat behind a computer for most of my tenure in the Marines and never fired my rifle. I feel like that made me less of a Marine because I never got to fire my rifle in combat, but just because you don’t fire your rifle doesn’t mean you don’t get to kill people.
I got to kill so many people behind a fucking computer. All I needed was a computer and a phone and I could get your guy killed for you if we had good intel on the target. I only made the rank of Sergeant, but I did a lot of high speed, low drag type of stuff. A lot of my friends don’t talk to me anymore because I went basically homicidal crazy in 2018 January.
I almost attempted to kidnap Harvey Weinstein when he was in a Sex Rehab in Arizona. It was all too real, I had building schematics(floor plan), Infill and Exfill routes for foot and vehicle insertion and extraction, Employee time cards and zipties for civilians we may encounter and a bunch of other things that made it all too scary and real.
I made a phone call to my family and they came out and picked me up and brought me to help at the Veteran’s Assistance Facility. This being all in 2018, seems like a blur but it is all too real every day as I come to terms with my diagnosis that was given to me at this facility. PTSD and Bi-Polar, two disorders that I refused to accept that I had. I sat behind a computer, I was never in any danger, I shouldn’t be fucked up, I should be fine, I just saw fucked up videos, they were never related to what I was doing there.
I don’t know, I just graduated college and I have this whole life to look forward to, and I want to blow it all over the ceiling and wall with a shotgun. I just feel tired of being in my own shoes with the stories I’ve earned in my life, the happy and the sad. Just burnt out brain that feels like it has had it’s time already and got its use. I never categorized my self as suicidal until I was in a facility in 2018 for almost a month where everyone around me wanted to take that card, while all I wanted was to go punisher mode on all these villain’s. When I got out my father told me, “Don’t speak to anyone from that facility, their all crazy”.
Well I could relate with every single individual in that facility, did that make me crazy? yes in my eyes. Well, I just smoked that away because it was too painful to deal with than, and it still is now. December of 2020, I’m forced to accept that I am crazy and I have been given these diagnosis for a reason. I am so angry at being such a failure, being so fucked up, being so guilty all the time, unable to grieve properly because of this anger. All this has been suppressed because of weed which I have to quit to get a great job, but I’m kind of not ready to be that angry again, my back can’t handle all the stress. Been sitting on my ass in college for the last 3 years. This shit, getting back into the grind of careers and wages fucking sucks. I’d rather live on an island and catch my fill and nothing more. That sounds pretty good, I can still sell all my shit and buy a one way ticket. I got the passport, just say adios to the family and just not return for a half a decade or so.