Fri, 20 Sep 2024 20:19:45 -0700WeeblyMon, 05 Jun 2017 18:25:16 GMThttps://www.herwarhervoice.com/deens-memories/when-they-comeWhen they come, it’s not politely, with invitation in hand.
It’s fast, and violent, and utterly without feeling.
Cracked from its frame, the door hangs like words you wish you could have taken back.
Words that led you here, unthinking, unknowing, alone.
Stare down at the floor, laces gone the way of your belt, your dignity, your freedom.
Tracing back over the words, the actions that combined to bring you here-was it worth it, was it worthy, what does it make you?
Words.
Thoughts.
Actions.
Let us step aside, and press replay. Find the fault, the error, the point of origin.
In the beginning.


Mental health is a stigma. An anomaly in what we consider normal. It is a world of lost trusts, of lost lives, of lost people.
Never is this so true as in the Military. We are expected to believe the fiction of mentally well, mental fit soldiers, even as they spend many, many dollars to break them down into something readily malleable.  Truly, can one be trained out of what is considered societally normal into being able to kill at a word, at an indication of wrong without damaging what is considered fundamentally correct in the brain?
When one is broken down into the very basics of what makes you tick, so you can plainly see where the cracks are and adjust for them, if not given a start or balance point, is it any wonder that the cracks become larger?
Consider the soldier coming home, brutally killing those he loves because of something that only exists in his head. Why is it even in his head?
And yet, stepping forward and saying “I need help” is as much of a stigma to your life as going crazy because you don’t trust those around you.  It’s admitting that there might be something wrong, something that was/has been damaged-no one stops to wonder if it can be fixed, no one stops to ask if it’s something that can be worked through-right there, you are no longer trusted, no longer wanted. So you fall down, beyond where you were, to a place of dark, unknowing, uncaring despair.
You are now nothing. No one. Something to be used, broken, and thrown away, like a dollar store toy.
What is to be done? Is it the fault of those that broke the toys? Is it the fault of those who gave the toys?


Who bears the burden of fault?

If you need help, or know someone who does, please reach out. We are here for you.
We really are.

Consultant Line: 1(800) 342-9647 Web: www.militaryonesource.mil
Military Crisis Line: 1(800) 273-TALK (8255)

NATIONAL SUICIDE PREVENTION LIFELINE

1 (800) 273-TALK (8255) Web: www.suicidepreventionlifeline.org

NATIONAL DOMESTIC VIOLENCE HOTLINE

1(800) 799-SAFE (7233) Web: www.thehotline.org

NATIONAL SEXUAL ASSAULT HOTLINE

1 (800) 656-HOPE (4673) Web: www.rainn.org

NATIONAL CHILD ABUSE HOTLINE

1 (800) 4-A-CHILD (422-4453) Web: www.childhelp.org

NATIONAL CENTER FOR MISSING AND EXPLOITED CHILDREN

1 (800) THE-LOST (843-5678) Web: www.missingkids.com

Note: Many of these have options for those with communication
needs such as Español only or hearing impaired. Check the organization’s website for details.

]]>Mon, 05 Jun 2017 18:24:14 GMThttps://www.herwarhervoice.com/deens-memories/touchTouch
Touch
Touch
Light a candle
Exactly at 5pm
Fumble
Where did you leave the phone?
Jerk sideways
Your heart
Don’t want to see the call missed
Eight days
Throat swelling
It’s no one
Just someone here that called
Brain racing, searching
Oh!
You forgot to light the incense
Stare at the phone
Still not working
Damn
Maybe…..if you go for a drive
Forget your Bluetooth
That always works
Five hours later
Sitting in a gas station parking lot
Crying
Go home
Falling asleep on the couch
Nightmares full of
 Forgotten-ness
Fear
Death
Sirens wake you
It’s your phone
“Hey Baby-I miss you-how was your day?”

]]>Mon, 05 Jun 2017 18:21:20 GMThttps://www.herwarhervoice.com/deens-memories/this-is-what-i-know-about-loveThis is what I know about love.
It is dangerous.
Painful.
Hard.
Wonderful.
All encompassing.
Comforting.
Something that I fear.
The things that you love can so easily go away.
Or hurt you.
I can trace out
In my skin
The words that made me believe
That we are done
The things you repeated
Like a holy rosary
Until they became
My gospel truth
The places you now fail to touch
Echo with the words
You used
To remind me
Of my failings
How can I walk
Into tomorrow
With the scars of all of this
Still bleeding through my shirt?

]]>Sun, 19 Feb 2017 23:49:09 GMThttps://www.herwarhervoice.com/deens-memories/for-nowThere is a huge vastness

Of the house without you in it

There are echoes of thoughts

And feelings

Bouncing from room to room

I do not clean

Or move anything around

As if the loss of the weight

Of the dust on the book shelves

Would unbalance

The hard won

Stability currently in my brain

Shortly

I will make something to eat

Then stare at it

Put it back for another time

I am

Drinking more coffee than I ought

Because the taste of it

Reminds me of your mouth

There are

Moments when

I realize

I am grinding my teeth against the prayers

That you come back alright

I just

Do not know what to do with my hands anymore

And I am

Honestly surprised

To find myself here

In this depression

But it feels alright

For now

I will see you soon


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