I feel I need to explain my frustrations I expressed in my previous entry. I mentioned many months ago that the emotions I go through here are from one extreme to the other. There are times when I am very proud and excited to be here and other times where I am deeply depressed.
I don't use the word 'depressed' lightly. I don't mean I get sad or feel down. I mean I reach a point where I sometimes pray that a rocket or gunman's aim will not stray. I don't want to hurt myself, but at times, I would feel relieved to 'come home soon'.
There are times when I need to feel that every day is just one more day of being closer to going home and being with my family. There are times when I don't care what 'significant day' it is back home. Sometimes I don't care it is my birthday, anniversary, Valentine's, St. Pattie's Day or even Christmas.
I am not saying that is how I feel all the time or that I do not want anyone to ever wish me well. I don't want to give that impression at all. I just want to say there are times when I just do not care and I hate that because it is not 'me'. I am very appreciative of the blessings in my life, of my family and my friends and I do care.
My Aunt Jo tore me up pretty good about my last entry and this morning I received yet another military version of 'Twas the Night Before Christmas' which I will include here. One thing that hits hard is the remembrance of why I am here in the first place. I volunteered. I enlisted in a time of war with the full knowledge that I would be going to combat far from home and family.
I am an American Soldier and I do fight here so others can enjoy time with family and friends. I do spend time alone, far from home, physically and mentally. I chose to come here and do my duty to my country in hopes that my service, my small tribute in this war will ensure a safer life for my family and America.
I am determined to continue my sacrifice, at whatever the cost now, so my children do not have to continue my fight. To you, America, I wish a very merry holiday season.