The Evil thing I think too much of is I, therefore I and my soul and my mind; fought a long war.
As I was a history student for two years in my secondary education, I have seen numerous World War I and II videos, footages and strategic analyses. Similar to the situation and scenarios I experienced, readers should understand the notion of I am a one-man army, but achieved little or nothing.
I started vomiting, I felt bad. In the Army Uniform, I thought I could be strong. However, this time the test I have to pass; is not physical, but faith, soul and psychological.
After a few checks and scans, I was diagnosed; with a deadly disease. I got a Tumour in my neck, and it stands between my brain and its constant supply of fluids.
This story personalizes my attitude, behaviour, and mindset during my adolescent and teenage years as an individual. This is a suicidal mindset that set me into a downward spiral of attitude-related failures.
Fighting CANCER is not a single battle, but a series of battles, a War.
The day I died
How many times must a person fall to know that the fall; is a pit to put you down before more waves of deadly projectiles flies at you if you were in a standing position.
I fell into the pit; caused by the crater left behind from an artillery barrage, which was called in earlier. Hiding in a crater left behind, I am not in the path of horizontally flying physical objects the enemy hurls at me.
Getting up from the prone position, the ‘heroic’ charge is done like main or lead characters, delivering a battle cry as a message sent to move forward; this time it is all different. A ‘firing squad’ like total massacre results from the direct impact of the enemy firepower. Easy targets, crippled by the surrounding obstacles, and shells or shrapnel flying in many directions; men are cut down in short periods of time; in seconds as focus firing is initiated.
One realization that the truth of ‘heroic charges’ do not make heroes, but dead ones.
Lying in bed, the feeling of loneliness and guilt set in as I could not move my limbs had blurred vision and spoke with a slur. I charged headlong into the enemy position, thoughtlessly and confidently; hiding fear but caused the ‘wipe-out’ of my compatriots and I awaken alone to look at the ceiling in guilt and sorrow when I think deeply of what I had thought ideally of a successful outcome has come to nought.
Ironically, I sustained minimal injuries and recovered in a short time. Therefore, just a few days later, back to the front.
Trapped in the trench of fear that repetition of the same actions; will only result in the same disastrous aftermath and there will be peace of mind to the enemy who has ‘brought down’ the opponent and a stalemate ensued.
Tanks were ‘called in’ but the fear lingered in my mind and the mindset fell into a state of negativity. Like a first-timer, I cringed and crouched down in fear as the first of the barrages occurred to keep the place in no man’s land vacant and deterrent to the men who dare face the intimidation of strong firepower.
I tried to muster some courage; thinking that some form of air support or artillery will pin the opposition down in their defensive lines. But, there was a lack of situational intelligence, which led to the delay of preparation, let little knowing much of the enemy; if they had used the time of delay to their advantage and have strengthened their defences further, plugging the holes and leaving no small gaps of weakness to exploit. Many negative thoughts drove visualization of numerous reinforcements coming to the enemy’s aid in the form of support artillery, ammunition, supplies, air superiority, and armour. I could not see a weak point in the fortress and lines of ever strengthened defences the enemy put up to hold, or repel our futile attempt to dent their confidence in keeping their dominance on the land space called their “battlefield.”
Hoping for a miracle, all I can do is clasp my hands together and started praying to the sky, there was so little hope in my soul that the entire episode of fear, demotivation, and regret was left in the hands of God.
Then the engines of tanks, rumbles from guns of all types and blood splatted into my face as broken capillaries of the men; with the mindset to go forward; squirt blood into the air and projectiles sent their limbs flying in all directions, many without unison. Deaf and unable to breathe, as I was thrown off my feet from the impact of the undefined explosion in the fuel tank; and my countryman was engulfed in a huge fireball. I briefly awoke to see the curvature of the eyelids on a Southeast Asian medical soldier dragging me by my collar and hurling me into a deep trench. It was actually the crater left behind after the huge railgun shell ‘blasted’ the dent into the ground where it landed. Hence, it was not a safe zone at all. Projectiles and bullets flew around the areas millimetres above my barren head as my helmet was misplaced out there in the mess.
Finally, a sharp sound of a whistle was heard. A truce was called to honour and respect the fallen men from both oppositions. Motionless bodies and their limbs were carried to places for burial to not decompose in the cold and bloodied battlefield.
I was carried on the back of a fellow soldier who volunteered to shoulder my weight back behind my entrenched lines. I was put down eventually and landed with a thud. There, my soul, integrity, and dignity, was buried; the tears of the cowardice I flow like tributaries from a river. I simply cannot carry my own weight and fight anymore.
I DID NOT DIE, BUT MY SOUL DIED.
I gave up
How to Restore ‘THE WILL’ to do things, again?
I lifted my bloody hand to shield the bright sunray shining onto my splintered uniform and dented metal water bottle. Then skies covered in smoke opened calmly, and the aching muscles on my back as I fell so many times; felt like a norm as I am surrounded by the numerous soldiers; who were wounded, bleeding, bandaged up and patched up from bullet and shrapnel wounds. The aroma of blood, charred wood, infected skin, and gunpowder tell the story of a battlefield. Regardless of painkillers or medical drugs, nothing freezes the thought in my mind of the horror and significantly, the throbbing pain.
Christian author Tim Kimmel, in his book Legacy of Love, describes courage this way: “Although it takes unusual courage to die for something; it takes an even greater courage to live for something. Dying for a right cause takes one right choice; living for a right cause requires hundreds of choices each day, every day.”
The will to get the thing done is caused by angst, pain, and hatred. Who can see the target clearer if the devastation of failure or retreat meant nothing to you?
Not till I know my purpose, not till I feel I let them down, not until I cannot tolerate my own unmotivated and worthless self. Still, I doubted myself and undermined the unification of forces. Not till I see my dear brothers-in-arms bleed to death, watch them shut their eyes in submission to death and hear their cries to tell me I am to take over their failed missions; do I stand up on my feet, and climb the steep slopes of the trench edges towards the surface.
I knew I had to do my part, which part? Just hold the front when called upon for the cause.
“Stan” is a song by American rapper Eminem featuring British singer Dido. It was released on November 21, 2000, as the third single from Eminem’s third album The Marshall Mathers LP (2000). It was number one in eleven countries, including the United Kingdom, Germany, Ireland and Australia.
From: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Stan_ (song)
The next Day, my Soul was given a second chance
The sun rose over the hills and from a distance, the Fortress defences came into sight. Facing the sun, it was glaring and with squinted eyes, I stared into the faces of demoralized soldiers. Their faces were wrinkled at the sides of their eyes, and the smiles were absent.
Pushing open the tent exit, a middle-aged man spoke with a grump; “You guys look scared, I understand, but you are soldiers!”
He paced to and fro before the soldiers that survived the slaughter of defeat earlier, and shouted;” We lost many men, but we did not lose the will to fight, we did not lose the souls of good soldiers, they are fallen, but I want you all to not let these fallen brothers- in- arms feel that they sacrificed for nothing. “
The speech: “The usual ‘motivational speech’, mostly taken for granted; then forgone.”
I looked into the expressions of the soldiers I was to line up with to head to the front, the situation seemed grim.
My lifeline has been cut, like an engine that needs cooling, consistent flow of supplies has been cut and fluidity was halted due to battle attrition.
In addition, enemy tactics in the form of a ‘Pincer action’, achieved encirclement of my demoralized army blocked by a tumour.
Weak, tired and demotivated, my vision was blurred. But, I had a trump card, and very strong support in the form of allies, who would do more than normal expectations. They were very close, they sacrificed much for me, and they will do many things beyond expectations for me.
I KNEW THAT THIS MEANT MUCH MORE THAN just me
6 Things You Have In Common With War in the Mind
Courage comes with fear, therefore, the significance of greatness in an effort is definitely a strong case that will influence your discouraged self to ‘stand up and do the right thing’.
Training is of no use if the will does not exist, little or nothing is done concerning what the training was for.
Habits are something done daily on a routine basis, if a habit of doing things with courage is made, the enforcement of doing things right transcends the will to do so.
Resistance to make a decision is the same scenario which keeps a soldier in the trench, not on the battlefield.
Doing everything with willpower may drain your energy as stress is totally on oneself. Therefore charging out alone to achieve the goal is tiring and stressful.
Without rest, there is no motivation or no chance of forcing a mind to obtain a new good habit, gain courage or think of achievement when you are in a better state, not struggle to survive while down.
After the first sight of the enemy came the ‘second frontline’.
A brief flash in my memory, “We are soldiers; conscripts, like our forefathers, therefore we must not surrender, you know what the consequences are.”
ANOTHER TUMOUR is detected
What is Oligodendroglioma?
If there was a track that required your will to sprint at your maximum capacity; for the next four hundred meters ahead, even after the ‘finish line’, will you make this run?
It was the year 2000 I had finished the operations after the diagnoses of disasters. I was inspired, as the short- formed name was Stan. My friends called me that, as stirred by the household name and popularity.
THE CAMPAIGN of Restoration
Ahead lie fifty-eight weeks of chemotherapy I had to pull through after all the initial ‘damages’, but, now I had the will to go on.
Do or Die; I had to face the fear and confront the challenges ahead in the form of surgeries, medical treatments and both physio and psychological pain.
I WILL NOT GIVE UP.
The next attempt in the battle continues; with and without purpose. Many just want to go home, many feel like the battle ahead is suicide, I felt that I may die, but I too, want to go home.
Men with fear swarmed the assembly area before being assigned the positions they would take in the trenches.
With no man’s land in sight, I know what has to be done, and what the next hour will mean.
Shells erupted and thick layers of smoke filled the terrain ahead, sounds of aeroplanes could be heard above in the skies and on the grounds ahead; motorized vehicles and tanks. It was an all-in or nothing attacks to take the enemy down.
When the shout-out and command to set the pace and step up out of the trenches into no man’s land came, I finally had the guts and the energy to step up and led a charge into the foggy and crater rode grounds. My angst, fear, and sadness triggered an unusual behaviour that made me ‘blind’.
I looked up to the skies; closed my eyes and simply unleashed my guilt, despair, and sadness. “Argh,” I reverberated, into the cushions and pillows that supported my head in the state of crying and bleeding.
There is the acknowledgement of the disappointment in my initial weak and cowardly personality without any form of wisdom or maturity in thought. I see the larger picture now and know what has to be done for the greater good.
I wanted to make the mistakes beautiful, even with the accountability of making the erroneous obstacles for myself and the others. Admitting it and confronting the problems I made, gave me the motivation to serve; more than to command. With servitude in mind, there was fear, but an even stronger will to make the change.
Storming the front with a weakened body but a strengthened soul, I confronted the fearsome enemy like a blinded person.
The truth: I rather die than go back wounded and damaged beyond “basic living”. I could not bear the guilt and sadness of the losses of what I had, and cannot be replaced.
With a sense of confidence, I cheered like a battle cry of victory as tanks were brought to the front, rumbling like the hearts of the infantry who was once demoralized by the initial lack of ‘firepower’.
Breaching the fortress defences, so much death was in the atmosphere, blindly lashing out pain and frustration; bullets flew in the direction of the cannon crew who were lightly armed. After emptying the ammunition in my rifle, I finally stopped squeezing the trigger as no emission of smoke revealed the sight of ‘innocent’ people who were turned into soldiers out of desperation in defence; the opposition.
The victory was attained, but the soul was fading once again.
Bloodshed was surrounding me as the opposition faced the total impact of blind firing.
I grabbed a stranger, who was standing near me and flung him to the ground, and a loud voice shouted out, ‘Cease fire!’ Sanity had returned to the furious and fear-ridden mind. This confrontation is over. The battle has come to a halt.
I looked at the ‘enemies’, surrendering in despair, many in tears as they looked around to see the devastated premises, their dead friends, people dying or bleeding and screaming in pain. I recovered from trauma and adrenaline rush to feel a pat on my back, “you pulled through, nice to have you here with us medic.”
I developed a thought; I could not control my emotions of sadness as I stepped into the shoes of the opposition. I fell to my knees and begun unpacking my medical pack which I charged headlong with. Bandaging and giving jabs of painkillers and medical drugs to the wounded and the dying, I was kicked on my bottom.
I looked up, and a frowning face came into view, what are you doing? Working so hard on the ones who came all the way to the front to kills us?
I developed a Conscience
Earlier, I was angry and sought revenge for the fallen brothers on my side, now, I see the opposition crying as the loss of their brothers in arms set in, and therefore I knew that my revenge was taken, but I still bore the pain and guilt of killing and hurting the masses of the opposition. Enemies are being vanquished, but the conscience and integrity of my soul were once again compromised.
This put me in the calmness of thought, regarding my loss of quality of life and I did not put anger ahead as discrimination came in waves as I was smaller than the masses. I stared into the skies to know there is still some form of light within the dark clouds.
When the aeroplanes buzzed down through the gap in the dark clouds, fog, and smoke; it was a sound of hope. Although it is known that “all’s fair in love and war”, air superiority is attained and it is definitely a relief even in the situation of panic.
Destruction came from the skies as bombing runs and strafing occurred in the areas of the enemy front. Like angels, there was armour, there was retaliation against any form of enemy support.
With a sigh of relief, after awakening from the comas, I looked at my mother and knew that the dream I had in the ‘deep sleep’ episodes I was in, showed a personification regarding the nature of the fighting spirit and my soul. I felt redeemed.