I always feel so guilty when I encounter a suicide support link tailored for Veterans. Guilty for considering it. Guilty for wanting it.
The first thought is: “This organization is focused on a narrower group of people. Maybe they have resources that the others don’t have. Maybe they will be better able to help me. Maybe I can find an answer there.”
The second thought is: “WTF? They are clearly focused not on me, but on people with REAL problems. People who had terrible deployments. People who deserve their attention rather more than you do. Do not waste your time. Do not waste THEIR time.”
While I am a veteran, honorably discharged, and awarded the National Defense Service Medal during the Persian Gulf War, I was never sent to a warzone. I was intel… I worked in a facility that was buried in a hill and surrounded by tropical climates. They don’t put us on the news because we’re not hauling weapons, wearing body-armor, or dumping desert out of our boots. Just because I was fucked up by my military experience, does not mean others aren’t fucked-up with greater reason.
And it’s clear in all the advertising. The veteran’s hotlines speak of post-traumatic stress, deployment issues, and harrowing memories. I’m not downplaying any of those significant problems, but it all reads like an action movie. My life was not an action movie. I’m saying those points of reference don’t apply to me. And so I feel like I’m outside even this organizational category that, on the face of it, seems to readily welcome me.
On reflection, this is more of a connection problem. Somehow I was looking for a pigeon-hole to rest in for a bit. I don’t think I fit the demographic for this one. I should know better. — I don’t need a place to rest! I don’t need a place to belong! I don’t need a purpose or a definition! Tired? Bah! Beaten-down? Bah! Fading? Bah! This bird doesn’t get to rest. This pigeon’s only job is to keep flying until he falls out of the damn sky. Sooner (rather than) or later.
…And I did it, didn’t I. Ha! Bullshit.
After the Samaritan Encounter I swore I was done with this shit. But I went and fucking did it anyway. Un-fucking-believable.
On a whim, I took the quiz over on the Veteran’s Crisis Hotline site. I got a response saying they wanted to talk to me, so I logged into the online chat. There was no wait, I was connected almost immediately. But there was… nothing. Hard to explain, responses appeared very slowly on the screen, but they were hollow and … and slow. I gave it 40 minutes, and it was just fucking useless. Was the guy new? Was he unsure? Was he fake? That’s it. That’s the problem. After a while I got the impression that it was an automated response system. Like Eliza. Ever heard of Eliza? Here, you can go talk to her here. It was something like that only with responses that came with several minutes in between.
There isn’t anyone Real out there. I’m surrounded by a really cool, 360 wrap-around screen. It’s even touch-screen. Everything I encounter is projected onto this surface in brilliant HD detail with spatially modulated sound. But the content… thats all hollow and algorithm-generated. Lots of dancing pixels that, when you look close, are really just dots of red-blue-green.
The Deep Roads 