Yeah fuck it. I’m done. I guess I tried. Is 8 months a good run?
let me just say I’m done hurting everyone around Me. I’m done being a monster, I’m done living. I’m giving up.
I started writing letters to the only people who talk to me. This is what I have for Andrea, a friend who has suffered a lot, and I tried to help, but she was never in CAP with me and disagreed on me joining.
Andrea:
If you’re reading this, then you know. Sorry. Wanted to tell you.
The money I left won’t be much but it should help you get by. Want you to be happy when you meet the right person. Don’t want you to have to be on your own.
Not sure the right way to say how I feel about you. Think you know already, though. […]
Fuck fuck FUCK! I didn’t nearly gather the courage. There was this really sweet and kind NCO, who had been there since the beginning, and I trusted well enough to tell. But fuck me, I didn’t have the courage to talk about it. She often seemed understanding, and I usually tell people I trust everything. The squadron is my family, and I am undoubtedly going to tell someone. I know they could easily help me. If I’m FUCKING FUCK FUCK FUCK alive by then, then I will. I’ve always secretly liked her, so that doesn’t help for FUCKING SHIT.
Tomorrow is another squadron meeting. I don’t think the chaplain would be a safe bet. my only friend suggested, if i treat the squadron like family, then I should tell at least someone, someone I could trust there. although I know and trust lots of them, there are a few I would never tell. example? My DCC. I’m really nervous, and if I even get the nerve to say anything, then I imagine they’d help me. Please, pray for me.
While swindling down a bottle of Americana Black Cherry Soda, I had an idea. my squadron’s chaplain. I knew I could talk to him about my depression. He’s such a kind guy, and he was always very understanding. I’m doing it this Tuesday, let’s pray i don’t get sent to a mental hospital. Â And if I do, I’ll see you all on her other side.
a few months ago, I wrote a poem. Here it is now:
For I am Civil Air Patrol. No single word can
Describe who I am, what I do or what I
Sacrifice at such a young age…there is no phrase
That can sum up what we do. We sacrifice
Ourselves for the needy, the misfortunate
And grieving. We cross boundlessly across
Dead and barren terrain, hopelessly searching
For one soul. We receive no pay. No special
Treatment. No acclaim. We simply fight.
Fight for freedom and tranquility within our
Borders.
For I am Civil Air Patrol.
The blood we’ve spilt within 72 years is
Tremendous. Over […]
I served in the Civil Air Patrol. And I was proud of it. Around December, my life dried up. I was around an Airman then. I was angry with myself. I was a total slacker, and was so lazy it infuriated me. I was a disgrace to my squadron, who was often considered the best in the state. The  Disappointment in my own actions made me angry. I was alone. I have been since then. I. am. Dying on the inside. My stress limit has officially been destroyed. Help. Me.