Tag Archives: tragedy

The Casualties of War

3 Oct

In case you haven’t heard, a US airstrike in Afghanistan has led to the death of several personnel who were part of a doctors without borders facility stationed there. You can read about it here.

I find it tragic that those humans that were doing their best to undo the damage that war causes were, themselves, casualties to the same war. I also find it tragic that these lives seem to matter more than the other civilian lives lost.

The article I’m referencing is from the Times, and while they make mention of other Afghanistani civilian lives lost, it is written to bear less weight than the people in this hospital. Apparently there is outrage at our decisions to make an airstrike in this location, and maybe there was some miscommunication, or misinformation surrounding and leading to it, but this article (and the outraged people) seem to lack understanding of how airstrikes work.

Forgive me, and correct me, if I’m wrong (I’m not a military expert), but the nature of an airstrike alone lends itself to killing unwanted targets. We can type in coordinates, and launch whatever ammo we are using in a particular situation, but we can’t say there are 30 people in a building and we only want to bomb 5 of them. It doesn’t work that way.

Any war, at any time has caused civilian casualties. We seem to feel okay if its “the enemies” civilian casualties versus our own, but we shouldn’t. And we shouldn’t feel okay about either, no matter who it is causing them.

My hope is that maybe this situation will help more people realize that civilian casualties aren’t uncommon, and there are more reasons than just a fallen soldier and money to fight less. I also hope that they do look into what happened that lost these doctors their lives, wounding so many others in this hospital, and they find that the original threat was an actual threat. No one will be happy with that, of course, but at least if this is founded, these people didn’t die for no reason.

Finally, I would like to note that this article was so right when they described the capability to perform airstrikes as “devastating”.

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Death of a Roommate: One Year Later

16 Aug

It has officially been a whole year since the discovery of my roommate, dead upstairs, having been laying there for over a week.

Technically it’s not a full year until about 11:30, but still.

This year has probably been the worst year of my life, having had to deal with being homeless for so long, going into and out of relationships, losing friend and having other move away, and having my parents in poor health. Moving has been hard, as adjusting to a new job has been. But I’m optimistic.

I’m looking today to be the end of awful, and the beginning of getting my life back in order.

The death of my roommate has effected me much more than I ever could have imagined, but it has been so subtle it’s deceptive.

At the beginning of this week (the anniversary of him actually killing himself), I made a sudden realization that caused my sleep to be poor for the following days. Saying that I lived with a dead body for a week doesn’t even begin to cover the horror of it. Saying that I lived with a decaying corpse does. Where there are flies, there are maggots, and that is a visual that I am glad only exists vaguely in my mind.

To think the gruesome occurrences that unfolded upstairs went completely unnoticed makes me shudder, and to think that perhaps had I been more available, it might not have happened at all. (But no, I don’t blame myself. To be perfectly honest, I feel quite bitter toward my former roommate, who had only lived with us for about a week.)

Going into this new year, I believe that I’ve reached a point at which I can move forward comfortable, and settle back into the things that were once normal. I know that at least some of you have noticed I haven’t been writing almost at all. I haven’t been sewing. It’s as though I’ve been suspended in time for this year, and now I’m finally able to move forward again.

Tonight, I was supposed to retrace the steps I took that fateful evening, to hopefully accomplish something of a sort of rewriting that memory so that this day no longer holds the connotation it holds now. I was going to go to the same restaurant and bar we went to, with the friends who accompanied me through that night’s events. It was really important to me, and much to my dismay, they couldn’t join me.

I was going to go anyway, because even though they didn’t feel it important that they were there, it was important for me to go. As much as I wanted to hope, I’m not on their list of priorities. Due to circumstances outside of my control, however, I’ve been stranded here, so I am unable to retrace my steps.

It’s okay. Mostly because there is currently no one dead in my house right now.

And here is to tomorrow, that while trying, will be a new year with new adventures.

 

May my former roommate rest in peace.

The Roommate Chronicles: Dealing with Death

19 Aug

I’m not sure even where to start.

I guess I can start at the beginning.

At the beginning of this month, I got a new roommate. I saw him every day for a little over a week, and then my life started to get even busier than it already is. Parties, friends, work, friends, stuff…you know how it goes.

Then, as it started to kind of slow down a tiny bit, I noticed something was wrong. I hadn’t seen him recently.

The feeling came as a smell first. Then it came as flies. Then, I panicked.

But I have great friends, and being who I am, sometimes I just need someone to talk me down and make me actually accept the logical reasons I’ve pushed to the back of my mind as actuality, and that’s just what they did.

But then, it was all validated. On Friday night, at just about midnight, the police came to my house, and discovered that my new roommate was dead in his room.

He’d been there for 5 days.

It’s kind of surreal to get that news, no matter how sure you are that’s what is wrong. Going into this situation that night, two of my friends made attempts to find him themselves, and I’m so glad they didn’t. I would feel terrible if they had been traumatized like that because of me.

I’m so thankful that door was locked.

When I started this series, I never imaged that I would be writing about this. And I almost don’t know what else to say.

Death isn’t something I’ve ever really had to cope with, and while this situation is a little different – I didn’t know him – I still need to deal with the situation.

One second, I’m over it and I just want to go home and continue with my normal routine. The next second, I’m clinging to the friends I was with that night, wishing that they never had to leave my side.

I’m currently staying at one of their houses, because my house is kind of uninhabitable at the moment, but as the week wears on I’m not sure what the next step is.

They keep telling me I need to move, but I don’t really feel that’s necessary. And I don’t know when I’ll be able to go back to my house, but the one I’m staying at kind of has an expiration date that’s coming quickly, and the other friend I can stay with will be out of town when that happens. I’m in weird limbo, and I don’t like it.

Maybe I’ll have more to say later. Maybe this is all there is.