Wow. I can’t believe it; this moment is emotional. Thank you for having the insight and instinct to read my story or, to be more accurate, our story. This book is the culmination of an extraordinary journey of every human emotion possible. For quite some time, even in the heat of the madness, in my mind I knew I had something driving me on. Call it destiny, fate, karma, my duty, whatever. I knew my story could and will help other veterans find peace. How do I know this, you may ask? Well, I never listened to the docs, the shrinks, the nurses or any other pen-pushing idiot who had the honour of working me over when I returned from war. Why didn’t I listen? Simply because I couldn’t identify with them. I felt no connection with their souls. They had not been to war. They had not taken life. They had not watched it ebb from young lads’ faces, boys butchered by IEDs (Improvised Explosive Devices). They were speaking from what they had read in a textbook. My friend, we actually live it, breathe it: it runs through our blood on a daily basis. I would not listen to them because they would not listen to me. You know that feeling: that frustrated, punching, crying feeling, as though you were the muse for the Edvard Munch painting, The Scream. Well, the good news is that you can burn that image now. Finally there’s somebody who also knows your story. What we both want and need, and above all else deserve, is peace. Peace, my friend. Peace of mind, peace of body, peace of soul, peace of life. I liken it to waking up again and being glad you’re alive. Sounds simple? But stay with me. I don’t expect you to be convinced so soon. If I were reading this, I’d say get lost. But first, let me tell you about me. You can be the judge of my credentials for finding a way out of war, and into peace.
Jesus, where the hell do I begin? The circumstances of my upbringing to the path life has taken me may seem irrelevant and yet the dots can only be joined by looking back. I truly believe that I was destined to get to this point. The why is yet to entirely unfold, but time takes time. You too have reached this point for a reason. The fact that you are still standing, still fighting, still breathing tells you that your spirit hasn’t given up. What your dream or destiny is only you can discover. I sincerely hope, and I have the utmost faith in you and myself, that what I am writing to you, and what you are reading from me, is not a book but a letter about the wars of life, not just on the physical battlefield but in the battlefield of the mind. Though our individual paths may differ, we share similarities: the ups and downs, the emotions to which life has exposed us as we move through our experiences. For too long we’ve been prisoners of war in our own minds, unable to see an escape route, bruised and battered, weathered and stormed, unable to peer through the darkness of our cells to see the light that will give us hope, let us escape. Yet, if pursued with faith, belief and courage, victory also remains and is still there for the taking. Were you beaten on the battlefield? Never, my friend. Are we going to be beaten on this battlefield against a system of thought? Never. We can’t fight the system but we can replace it with a better system and then the old system becomes obsolete. Okay, so better get yourself comfortable; I don’t do anything in half measures.