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I feel the most at peace when sitting on my front steps with my pups or cooking with my son.
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I feel the most centered and happy sitting in my hammock near the ocean. The smell of the salt water and the vast view of the ocean grounds me and I don’t get that feeling anywhere else.
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Being active. Going to gym helps my mental health almost more than my physical. Hiking and being outside; sunshine has so many benefits
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I feel most centered and happy when my 4 year old great Grandson says "I love you". The best feeling in the world!
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Answering this question truthfully leaves me with this: The real truth is nothing good: I'm not happy and I'm not content and I am so very, very far from those two things. The future isn't looking to good either as there isn't much to look forward to.
- So here's why -
I'm a Disabled Veteran AND later became a Disabled Police Officer after 10 long years of rehab from my military injury. Now... I'm not content or happy because I live on a very limited and fixed income living month to month when I receive my disability pay. I can't work overtime to save for a vacation, I can't make some court time to help pay for home repairs or something a little extra for me because the bills need paid first, foremost and always leaving nothing left every single month. I stress everyday as I watch my home fall into disrepair as I can not afford the materials and can no longer do the work. I don't sleep very well because of extreme pain and struggle throughout each day in pain everywhere in my body. I also stress non stop worrying that something big goes wrong and how I will not be able to pay for it. If I have an added or unexpected expense of $100 for example, it sets me in the proverbial "rob Peter to pay Paul" mode which always leaves me running behind on something somewhere to someone for something!
I don't live beyond my means. I'm not an alcoholic or drug addict and I don't have a gambling problem. The problem I have is I'm a physical wreck of a person from injuries from serving my country in the US Army and serving my local communities as a Police Officer. I was injured in the line of duty during both careers and which was known the propensity for life threatening or debilitating injuries. I willingly accepted those risks and paid the price for doing so.
Now, at the ripe old age of 51, my body is literally falling apart and I suffer in pain all day and night from those injuries and resulting surgeries which didn't help. To add insult to injury, I suffer from Psoriatic Arthritis SEVERELY courtesy of Uncle Sam and the "mystery shots" for Desert Shield/Storm; you know, the modern day Vietnam that everyone has forgotten about thanks to 9/11. Most help out there is for "Post 9/11" Veterans. In fact, when I first contacted the Wounded Warrior Project many years ago and was asked what era I was from and said Desert Shield/Storm the guy on the other end of the phone said he had never heard of it and that they (WWP) only "serve post 9/11 Veterans".
So... I have nothing to look forward to but pain, agony, no money and none of life's little luxuries. I can't fix up my house but I sure can sit around and watch it deteriorate! I have never been on a vacation and never will. Hell, I can't even say "at least I have my health!". My life is over for the most part and all that is left for me is to sit and wait for the remaining pain filled nightmare to end which is absolutely pathetic.
All of what I have written is sad and pathetic but all true. Anyone that wants to verify what I have said, just let me know because I have no problem sharing my horror story as I have no pride left as I have had to beg and beg to get help with no luck.
So that's the real answer to the question and as short as I can make it and still get the point across with all the pertinent details. And please know that I didn't write this for attention or for anyone to feel sorry for me (I have done that enough on the inside and keep it hidden pretty well) and I'm absolutely not nor have I ever been suicidal. It's just the facts of someone that has fallen and been forgotten which happens to be my life.
Sincerely,
Scott A. Morrison
Disabled Veteran, US Army Aviation
Disabled Police Officer, PA MPO (Ret.)
- So here's why -
I'm a Disabled Veteran AND later became a Disabled Police Officer after 10 long years of rehab from my military injury. Now... I'm not content or happy because I live on a very limited and fixed income living month to month when I receive my disability pay. I can't work overtime to save for a vacation, I can't make some court time to help pay for home repairs or something a little extra for me because the bills need paid first, foremost and always leaving nothing left every single month. I stress everyday as I watch my home fall into disrepair as I can not afford the materials and can no longer do the work. I don't sleep very well because of extreme pain and struggle throughout each day in pain everywhere in my body. I also stress non stop worrying that something big goes wrong and how I will not be able to pay for it. If I have an added or unexpected expense of $100 for example, it sets me in the proverbial "rob Peter to pay Paul" mode which always leaves me running behind on something somewhere to someone for something!
I don't live beyond my means. I'm not an alcoholic or drug addict and I don't have a gambling problem. The problem I have is I'm a physical wreck of a person from injuries from serving my country in the US Army and serving my local communities as a Police Officer. I was injured in the line of duty during both careers and which was known the propensity for life threatening or debilitating injuries. I willingly accepted those risks and paid the price for doing so.
Now, at the ripe old age of 51, my body is literally falling apart and I suffer in pain all day and night from those injuries and resulting surgeries which didn't help. To add insult to injury, I suffer from Psoriatic Arthritis SEVERELY courtesy of Uncle Sam and the "mystery shots" for Desert Shield/Storm; you know, the modern day Vietnam that everyone has forgotten about thanks to 9/11. Most help out there is for "Post 9/11" Veterans. In fact, when I first contacted the Wounded Warrior Project many years ago and was asked what era I was from and said Desert Shield/Storm the guy on the other end of the phone said he had never heard of it and that they (WWP) only "serve post 9/11 Veterans".
So... I have nothing to look forward to but pain, agony, no money and none of life's little luxuries. I can't fix up my house but I sure can sit around and watch it deteriorate! I have never been on a vacation and never will. Hell, I can't even say "at least I have my health!". My life is over for the most part and all that is left for me is to sit and wait for the remaining pain filled nightmare to end which is absolutely pathetic.
All of what I have written is sad and pathetic but all true. Anyone that wants to verify what I have said, just let me know because I have no problem sharing my horror story as I have no pride left as I have had to beg and beg to get help with no luck.
So that's the real answer to the question and as short as I can make it and still get the point across with all the pertinent details. And please know that I didn't write this for attention or for anyone to feel sorry for me (I have done that enough on the inside and keep it hidden pretty well) and I'm absolutely not nor have I ever been suicidal. It's just the facts of someone that has fallen and been forgotten which happens to be my life.
Sincerely,
Scott A. Morrison
Disabled Veteran, US Army Aviation
Disabled Police Officer, PA MPO (Ret.)
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Sgt Stephen Chiles
Much of what you state I not only understand but relate to. I too was disabled long before I should have left the workforce or many actiities, for that matter. I was down and out all of the trime. The depression was terrible. I had been told that I had a 5 year mortality rate, thanks to lung cancer.
In the beginning, I did complete the chemo and radiation. But those words "we give you five years" stuck like glue in my head. I really didn't have much to live for and was basically just waiting it out. But then, my father's health took a hard turn south with reapidly e sudding Alzheimer's Dementia and then even more suddenly, he was diagnosed with a rare rapidly growin prostate cancer. Family had jobs, one even in another state. There was nobody to care for dad but me. I became his full time 24/7/365 caretaqker; for four years.
My cancer suddenly no longer mattered. My woes only struck me when dad was alseep and I could take a much needed break. With dad's fast failing health in his last year, I had no time to think about myself. He needed 100% care. I wass the only one who could be there for him. And we certainly did not want him in a facility.
Dad passed away in 2018 four dsays before my birthday. Suddenly the hardship I had endured while being disabled myself made me realize that the whole time taking care of him gave me purpose. And now, I had none. Dad was retired Air Force and was interred at our local National Cemetary. The day that his sttone came in and was set, I went to the cemetary to supervise. I realized that now I was alone again.
Then, an amazing thing happened. After dad's headstone was set, I sat there talking to him when suddenly I heard a bunch of motorcycles rumbling into the cemetary escorting a hearse. Being a biker, I became curious and stood up to watch these bikers honoring a fallen veteran. I watched them stand around the family with US Flags and salute this fallen hero. I was amazed and honored to observe such galant respect.
After that funeral was over, I walked over to some of the guys who had stood that flagline and noticed two distinct back patches; Rolling Thunder and Patriot Guard Riders. It only took a few short minutes of conversation for me to find my new purpose in life. I was going to honor my fellow veterans and their families. I would also do my part in bringing awareness to the POW*MIA issues; particularly the over 82,000 MIAs never accounted for. I found my purpose and now 8 years after being told I would only live for 5, I am still here and still serving our veterans, their families and fighting for the families of the MIAs to be accounted for and brought home.
Not everyone can do what I found as a calling. I get that more than most understand. The key is that you need to find a new purpose; greater than your woes. You need to find something to occupy your time as much as it occupies your mind. And don't say it can't be done. I live on the measly SSDI check I get each month. I sacrafice every month and sometimes don't have enough for a good meal the last week or two. I call those my ramen days. But I don't let it get me down. There is always someone who has it far worse than me. If I can help them, it may not be much, but I will.
With that said, i you need help, reach out, brother. Don't let pride get in the way. There are many veteran focused organizations that will pitch in, share some brotherhood with you and help you get done what is needed. Just like we did in service.
And lastly, I have not mentioned it, if you go to church, help is always there from support to assistance. I get it if you don't or aren't spiritual. But know that I will pray for you. I will pray that you get the help that you need; whatever it may be.
I wear a patch on my motorcycle vest that says: "I am my brothers keeper". I mean that. I don't want you to fall through the cracks like so many have.
In the beginning, I did complete the chemo and radiation. But those words "we give you five years" stuck like glue in my head. I really didn't have much to live for and was basically just waiting it out. But then, my father's health took a hard turn south with reapidly e sudding Alzheimer's Dementia and then even more suddenly, he was diagnosed with a rare rapidly growin prostate cancer. Family had jobs, one even in another state. There was nobody to care for dad but me. I became his full time 24/7/365 caretaqker; for four years.
My cancer suddenly no longer mattered. My woes only struck me when dad was alseep and I could take a much needed break. With dad's fast failing health in his last year, I had no time to think about myself. He needed 100% care. I wass the only one who could be there for him. And we certainly did not want him in a facility.
Dad passed away in 2018 four dsays before my birthday. Suddenly the hardship I had endured while being disabled myself made me realize that the whole time taking care of him gave me purpose. And now, I had none. Dad was retired Air Force and was interred at our local National Cemetary. The day that his sttone came in and was set, I went to the cemetary to supervise. I realized that now I was alone again.
Then, an amazing thing happened. After dad's headstone was set, I sat there talking to him when suddenly I heard a bunch of motorcycles rumbling into the cemetary escorting a hearse. Being a biker, I became curious and stood up to watch these bikers honoring a fallen veteran. I watched them stand around the family with US Flags and salute this fallen hero. I was amazed and honored to observe such galant respect.
After that funeral was over, I walked over to some of the guys who had stood that flagline and noticed two distinct back patches; Rolling Thunder and Patriot Guard Riders. It only took a few short minutes of conversation for me to find my new purpose in life. I was going to honor my fellow veterans and their families. I would also do my part in bringing awareness to the POW*MIA issues; particularly the over 82,000 MIAs never accounted for. I found my purpose and now 8 years after being told I would only live for 5, I am still here and still serving our veterans, their families and fighting for the families of the MIAs to be accounted for and brought home.
Not everyone can do what I found as a calling. I get that more than most understand. The key is that you need to find a new purpose; greater than your woes. You need to find something to occupy your time as much as it occupies your mind. And don't say it can't be done. I live on the measly SSDI check I get each month. I sacrafice every month and sometimes don't have enough for a good meal the last week or two. I call those my ramen days. But I don't let it get me down. There is always someone who has it far worse than me. If I can help them, it may not be much, but I will.
With that said, i you need help, reach out, brother. Don't let pride get in the way. There are many veteran focused organizations that will pitch in, share some brotherhood with you and help you get done what is needed. Just like we did in service.
And lastly, I have not mentioned it, if you go to church, help is always there from support to assistance. I get it if you don't or aren't spiritual. But know that I will pray for you. I will pray that you get the help that you need; whatever it may be.
I wear a patch on my motorcycle vest that says: "I am my brothers keeper". I mean that. I don't want you to fall through the cracks like so many have.
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I feel most centered and joyful which is better than happy at my Home Churches Bible Studies and Worship services. I have a good news (for The Good News = Gospel.) I tried to commit suicide about a year ago and was taken by ambulance to the Raymond G. Murphy VA Hospital here in Albuquerque, NM. I had a false positive test for COVID-19 and was admitted to an isolation ward. While there, a VA Chaplain visited me via phone through protective glass. He asked if there was anything that he could do for me. I asked if he could get me a Bible to read. The next day he brought two large-print Bibles to my room, one for me and another for one of the nurses. I read almost every hour a chapter at a time. I had not been reading anything for over 2 years. So, like Joseph, whose brothers sold him as a slave, Joseph became the Pharaoh's steward for all of Egypt. When his brothers came for food, he was able to provide them all they needed. So what his brothers meant for harm, YHWH used to benefit Joseph's family.
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When I can love myself the same way I love others. When I care for myself the same way I care for others. When I accept myself with all my short comings. When I am able to accept others for who they are. Knowing that there is only the present, no tomorrow no past. That fleeting place is where I feel most centered.
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