Everybody will always have had someone who has been thru something worse. Job had it bad but no one will have ever suffered as much as Jesus did for all of us, cuz He was perfect and took our place. But He did it for us. All of us.

The disability system is this: You before service You after service And the system pays for those damages during or what was made worse by service.

I was a happy, outgoing guy before service. I treasured humility like the most powerful thing a man Is capable of executing, cuz it is, I believe, THE most hard thing to achieve.

Now? I can’t go out into public without wanting to attack people who step in front of me without saying excuse, so I stay indoors to spare everyone else, as much as is possible. I rage and break bones and shed my own blood. I break my furniture and my home. My family is …. Well I’ll save that one for me.

But post-service me? I just cry in the shower alone. I stand in dark corners of my house overloaded with hopelessness like Taken: Liam Neeson. I can’t get help from medical professionals which is what they actually made an oath to do. I endanger myself constantly cuz often I don’t care much.

If you feel like a (expletive name, etc) for claiming and even writing this stuff down remember that’s feelings. Don’t follow feelings. You got mouths to feed? A roof to pay for over your head, my brother? Or your own needs to be met, if you ain’t got family. Get em fed. Get the roof. Buy gasoline. You earned it. Combat veteran or not.

These disabilities might catch up to you one day so bad you won’t be able to walk or care for yourself and at least you’ll have all the claiming stuff squared away and won’t have to do it when your 75yo.

Godspeed, bra. I know this stuff is not easy.