Why Me? Why Am I The Last Partner?

                                                                                            

Why Me ...

Why? Why must it be? Why is this there? Why are you? Have you ever asked yourself these questions? What about “Why me?” Those questions have been asked by everyone at one time or another. Some more than others. Why aren’t The Last Partners kicking it like back in the day?

I know that I have not only asked others, but I have asked myself “why me?” many times. It just does not seem right when everything is going right for you, your mother, father, sibling, or friend, and I am sitting in a ditch. No one will assist or help me to get up. They just want to keep me down.

The year I got out of the Army, why was a big issue with me. Why can they not find out what is wrong with my knees? I am in pain and walk with a limp every day. Why does my chest hurt and I get short of breathe, but the medical personnel can not find a cause? Why did I put my integrity on the line for someone that never said “thank you?“ While testing soldiers to drive in Germany, one had an accident, why did I lie to the Military Police about who was driving at the time? Why did I recant my statement not even an hour later, and face being charged with falsifying an official document? Why couldn’t I get the chain of command to work and support me like they did my peers?

Man, that was a lot of stress to deal with. Maybe that is why I had so many inexplicable aches and pains. The problem I faced with my soldiers of E-5 and E-6 rank was trying not to get stabbed in the back because of the fright of being down-sized.

After I exited the service, it was discovered that I suffered with ulcers, chronic pains, and depression. That took a while as I tried to determine why things were the way they were.

Before the Army during my High School years, I was in a street band that whenever they broke up, they would reform under a different name. During our last effort under a name I created, they kicked me out. They did not give a reason, but they always put me down and treated me like I was beneath them in life. My mom and I ensured that we always had transportation to rehearsal and engagement location without one “thank you.” Why did they have to be so cruel to someone that place them high on their list?

Why could I not finish everything I started? Was it because of low self esteem? Low self expectations? There was many areas in my life that I could have concentrated on to get further in life. Musically, I could have strove for perfection playing the bass guitar, percussions, and writing songs. I really enjoyed these things.

Today, I ponder on all of the “whys” in my life, and here I am at a point where I am filled with regret about so many things. I think confidence is the link connecting my whys. If I had believed more in myself, projected that confidence to others, I would have been more successful.. Do not get me wrong, my life has been blessed in ways that only God could have provided.

First off, I should not be alive. Not just because of my military tour, but the different situations I have faced. I have been in more than my share of vehicular accidents, had guns pulled on me, had a knife at my throat, jammed weapons, military training, and walking on life’s path the way I do. Once, we returned from the field training and I noticed a discomfort in my right hand. There was a red streak going from my hand disappearing under my arm. Blood poisoning. I got to the hospital just in time.

For every doctor or medic I have seen, there was a different name for my illness, and in some cases, I was told that they were not sure what was going on and that I responded different to treatment than most people. If they did not know what was going on, why did they not just say so? That would have been easier to accept than just any excuse.

I even had one doctor to tell me that if my problem persisted that he would give me a temporary profile. A profile was a paper detailing the actions that I would be restricted from. He was going to do this upon my next visit with him. Before that happened, my commander talked to him, and the doctor flipped the script on me. This left me open to a charge of malingering, or purposely avoiding my responsibilities. This is about when the Middle East conflict/war began.

Today, I am classified a Service-Connected Veteran for disability. This stems from the things that worsened after my release from active duty. The why here is “why could they not find these problems before my release?”

Since I have made it back home, I have worked for Kentucky Fried Chicken, trained for and drove 18-wheelers, delivered pizzas, and in an Internet company Technical Support Department. I’d undertake anything to survive.

My most current why: why am I so lonely? I am unable to perform gainful employment, I no longer drink alcohol except on very special occasion, drugs are a definite no-no, and most physical activities are out. I had three main friends that are my brothers. The Last Partners. Two of them have a back ground in drugs (marijuana), and out of respect they keep it away from me. The third was my best friend, my brother. In 2003, he committed suicide after killing his estranged wife and her male friend. Depression is something I will get into another day.

Funny. My best friend did the same as the others (drugs), was a big time player, but he did not bring these things around me. He respected my marriage by not bringing his many women around my home, and if there was drugs or a lot of drinking going on, he just did not bring it around. But check this, like a brother, he was all ways there when I needed him, and vice-versa. We were both stationed in Germany at the same time.

There is not a day that goes by that I do not ask myself why. Why did it happen? Why couldn’t he have come to me or call me when he needed to talk about it? I mean, we did talk three days before it happened, and I thought that it helped. I felt good. He lived in a different city in which I had a medical appointment, so I spent the night before at his house. When it was time for me to leave for home, he wanted me to hang around. Why did I not pick up on the vibe that he needed his brother to help him through his depression?

Why today all I have left now is the question of why did things happen the way that they did? Why do I have so many questions of why? What were my dreams? When did they die? Who are The Last Partners?