I never thought about it

At the beginning of senior year, I was in a daze.

Blonde, still short, and almost ready to graduate.

And I thought nothing of it.

I watched my friends apply for college.

As dead lines approched, their fingers flew with fierceness, they were typing so fast; it was like one essay after the other.

SATS came and went, and the answers seemed so hard to bubble in.

I had to avoid filling in the wrong bubble, my hand was shaking so much, I could barely control it.

I thought nothing of it.

I remember before winter break, the cast list came out.

Classmates kept their pace, shrieks of excitement were exclaimed, and then the sound vanished without a trace.

I didn't have the energy to be excited, I was being kept up because the nightmares were taking centerstage.

I thought nothing of it.

After winter break, I thought that I would go to community college.

Take a few classes, get a degree in something I loved.

Rehearsals had started, and college was adding to the stress of school.

That, and the bike tire tread that still stung like it happened yesterday.

I thought nothing of it.

I stayed after class sometime in February.

The way my teacher talked about post traumatic stress seemed like a dream.

I was told to not self diagnose. 

Mom always told me I was one to self diagnose too quickly.

I still couldnt explain the nightmares.

I thought nothing of it.

The recruiter came back around March.

I told him yes perhaps sometime in May.

I was convinced that I would get married in my dressed blues.

I was convinced that the nightmares would stop as soon as recruit training started.

I thought nothing of it.

I watched my friends post their acceptance letters on social media.

I watched as they posted about scholarships and grants and their futures.

I was on my way to MEPS come July.

I stopped wearing belts when I started day dreaming about the way they'd feel around my neck.

I thought nothing of it.

After graduation, I had started running to prepare for boot camp.

As time went on, it seemed like I wasn't getting any faster.

My recruiter noticed.

His boss noticed.

And Sgt Major noticed.

I thought nothing of it.

I remember being in formation, and trying not to cry.

I kept my head up, and my pace was steady.

But all of the young men in my poole group were much stronger than I was.

It wouldnt be too hard to hold me down.

I couldnt help but be scared, it happened once; who says it couldn't happen again.

I tried to think nothing of it.

I was getting less sleep.

I was eating less.

My hair was falling out.

I couldn't ignore it anymore.

I couldn't be a Marine with pre existing PTSD.

Not when I had nightmares to deal with.

Not when I was surrounded by triggers.

Not when I thought death was the easier option.

Maybe I could have avoided it, 

but I never thought about it.

 

 

This poem is about: 
Me

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