Shattered Emotions of a Marine
My father’s therapist told him it would be a good idea to take a sheet of paper and keep it someplace in the house where he could remember its location. Every time an emotion or a thought crossed his mind he was to jot it down. When the page was full he was to read
back to himself what he wrote.
I took this experience of the therapist as a way for my father to see himself through the eyes of others. His anger, love, disbelief, emotions…read at a time when he was at peace. Sort of being on the outside looking in at himself. This poem was that page my father
wrote on. His words organized by me in a poetic pattern.
Shattered Emotions of a Marine
Expressed from a father, James Wiggins, through a son…Jana Wiggins
These are the
Words and
Emotions of a
Vietnam
Marine
Who came home to his country only to find that the real battle of his life is just beginning…the battle to find
himself.
A misconception many vets are led to believe is: if you are creative, you’re cured/healed. Far from it…being creative is a means by which you battle through. The scares are ever present, so too are the never-ending pains. Every time we feel well, something occurs to remind us of our frailty(ies). I strive to be sane but what is sanity? I work to be normal…what’s normal? In the present I take two steps forward toward the future; but the past brings me back four steps into darkness. I owe it to myself to move ahead, but it’s hard to move forward while the past has a stranglehold on me. No one person can cure my ills, for healing comes from within.
I left the war, but it didn’t leave me. War is hell, but coming home can be worse. I’m on crutches, it’s called dependency. Some of my brothers self-medicated themselves, it’s illegal…I medicated myself mentally, it’s substance abuse. Substance indulgence becomes substance abuse. It’s a wall to hide behind things that are bothering you. But a sober mind and a healthy body equal a pure soul.
I try to stop and observe the beauty around me, but it’s difficult due to my PTSD (post traumatic stress disorder). PTSD is like life on fire. It can become all-consuming. It never burns up, merely eats up the entire being left unattended.
My mind keeps jumping from thought to thought, for a fragmented mind comes from a troubled soul. But don’t mind me…it’s just my insecurity at work, and don’t’ worry, I fool myself also. After all, I have to be my friend before I can be yours. Through family I learned, love doesn’t control, it embraces. Love heals while hate destroys…love helps while hate hinders, just like sympathy. You don’t need a sympathizer, for sympathy hinders…just like hate.
I place my faith in God, for faith is the bridge uniting the creator with His creation. Faith unites my soul with God. Doubt, the great illness, separated the creator from His creation. But to know God is to love God, and to love God is eternal peace.
Jot down your emotions and you will see who you are. Kind of like looking at a mirror…you reveal your soul, your inner-self. But if you let your emotions linger inside it will explode, leading to excuses. Excuses hide the facts while reasons explain them. I am the conqueror and not the conquered…a survivor. Survivors avoid taking things for granted. For example: someone disabled is still able.
“VENI, VIDI, VICI”…I CAME, I
SAW, I CONQUERED!
Copyright 2009 - PERSONAS OF A PROJECT POET - THE DIARY OF A BLACK MAN
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