Stage 7: I Miss Afghanistan

My soldier

Joe finally opened up to me today about his anxiety and depressive thoughts. He and his dad had a very long, much needed, conversation this afternoon. I have found that a conversation between two men, especially two military men, often produce more progressive outcomes compared to conversations between a man and a woman. I have countlessly asked Joe to open up to me and let me in on his thoughts, but with his stubborn demeanor, he didn’t. It only took his dad one time saying, “ Joe do this”, for him to open up. These are the times that I wish I were born with a penis, so then when I say, “do this”, and he will actually do what I’m asking.

The conversation between him and I started like this, “ I told my dad why I’ve been feeling so anxious and stuff and told him about how I miss Afghanistan.” The look on my face must have been priceless when I heard the words “ I miss Afghanistan” come out of his mouth. At first I was angry when he said that. Why on Earth would he miss getting shot at each day? Why would he miss not having running water everyday? Why would he miss not having a homemade dinner every night? Why would he miss not waking up next to me every morning? So, instead of asking him those questions right off the bat, I let him continue with his explanation. “ I miss the adrenaline rush of getting shot at. I miss sitting in the brush wondering what is going to happen. I miss my friends the most. I miss going back to the tent after a long day of usually doing stupid stuff and shooting the shit with them afterwards. Ya that is what I miss the most.” So, I asked to continue the flow of his story, “ do you think that would be different if you came home with them at the same time?” (All of his friends came home earlier this month; I am SO glad that they are all reunited with their families and friends). “Ya, probably. I didn’t get the same welcome home festivities that they did. I told them that I would be there with them and I wasn’t.” He continued telling me all the things he missed about the war stricken country that he lived in for so long. I tried to put in my input, but he just kept letting his feelings flow out and just sat and listened to the story of my soldier.

      This story and explanation on his feelings didn’t go the way I thought it would. I thought that his feelings revolved around his physical condition and the future of his career. I never once thought that it was that he missed Afghanistan. The experiences on the battlefield and the bond between Joe and his fellow warriors are something that I will never feel, so I think that is why I never considered the possibility of him missing the place that sent him back broken.

Joe and his friends on Christmas

            When he was finished and we went back up to our room, a friend of his that was injured late last year came and our new neighbor Cory, came by the room to visit us. He is also a below the knee amputee on his right leg and broke his femur in the same leg like Joe. Watching and listening to the conversation between two soldiers is something that I have come to really enjoy. Half of the terms they use, I don’t understand or know what they mean, but it is a special language of their own. Talking about being blown up and the struggles they face as wounded warriors gives me insight to what is really going for Joe that I don’t see. I don’t talk a lot when Joe and Cory are conversing, mainly because half the words that come out of their mouth I don’t know the meaning of and because the moments that they are have are only obtainable by soldiers.

            The things I see and the people I meet here on a daily basis continue to amaze me. Before Joe told me his story today, he and I met a young couple outside our building and once again, the two soldiers started up a conversation. Joe explained his situation and injuries, then the other told his. “I’m the only one that survived when I got hit.” My heart sank right when he said it. “One of my guys was decapitated. The other two were basically torn in half and the guy next to me smashed his head.” The words came out of his mouth almost with ease. I didn’t know what to say to this man, so I didn’t say anything at all. 

Joe and his friend Nate 

            The effects of this war were totally unknown to me before Joe and I got back together. I didn’t know about Walter Reed. I knew that soldiers were losing limbs, but I didn’t know everything else that encompassed what it all totally meant and the stories behind the individuals that it happened to. During the day, I see soldiers around the hospital and the apartment building with one remaining limb, scars all over their bodies, carrying their prosthetics limbs on the back of their wheelchairs, falling during their physical therapy tasks, and struggling to do the things that I do on a daily basis. At first, I filled my mind with sad, depressing thoughts for these soldiers and felt so bad for them and their plights. Then as the days went by and I really looked at the whole picture, I realized that most of these soldiers also have smiles on their face and the determination to get back on their metal legs after falling.

            Joe missing Afghanistan is something that I will never fully understand, but I am not a soldier. What he has seen and the experiences he had in Afghanistan are things that I will never see or experience first hand, but what I do see and experience is what it has sent back everyday. Before Walter Reed, I thought that I knew what I was getting into by reuniting with my soldier, but in the past couple weeks I have realized that I have only just begun the process of understanding.

Stage 7 in the Journey of Unexpecting the Unexpected.