Disorder

You know, I hate the fourth of July because the fireworks make me jump for cover. It's so sad that all those brave soldiers, young, old, black and white, were killed and wounded in Viet Nam. For what? Nothing. Absolutely nothing. I know that I was exposed to agent orange, but not as bad as some of my buddies. I'm aware that I suffer from Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD) because of my experience in "The Nam". I also know that the very same government who sent me over there does not care one bit about me. It's been 37 years and I have never received a dime from the government. I called their stress hotline one time and told the guy that I was going to kill myself. The bastard actually hung up on me. That is a true story, I swear. Ask my 4th wife. I've always tried to live a normal life in spite of the stress and depression I was going through. I don't talk about what is wrong with me because most people either don't believe me or they just don't care. I may look healthy, but I'm a sick man. Don't get me wrong, I'm not asking for sympathy. A little understanding is all I want or need. It's taken a lot of hard work on my part and a strong faith in God and myself, but I know I will make it. What helps me the most is my kids and grandkids and my 5th (and final) wife, little Deb. Thank God she loves me and understands what I'm going through.  

David Billingsley