A Different Soldier, of a Different War

This is a passage from own personal journal in my own words & no one eles. Thus do be kind when reading as this is how I view myself as a survivor in a war all to many will never understand. Hello.Only allowed to be as I was trained. How humanity treated me, trained me, prepared me as a soldier. No I never served in the US Armed Forces. There exists many other levels of a soldier. Just as well as there exists many different types of battles. Battles to be fought each second, each minute, each hour, each day. The idea is to win a war you already know you cannot win. Thus you settle into the battles until death comes calling your name & punch's your card. I am a soldier, trained since childhood like boot camp to graduate into full fledge battles at 18. Now I am just a really exhausted, worn out, beaten, soldier. Behind me lies the memories of burying two half brothers, a full blooded sister, a child, a fiancé, & many others. The stench of death clings to me like a foul cologne. My past is a waste land of heavy loss, death, drowning grief, rage, pain, & such. Though I am not allowed to share the truth of my story. Always must keep silent & when sharing having learned that all to many cannot handle the 100 percent me, I have had to learn how to water down my story, place it in Readers Digest form for others to be able to accept it. Thus this is my fate. A silent soldier, that will one day die with a silent story.