The Lack Of Life In My Life

Hello. I will briefly tell you about my life after coming of age until now ... There is good and evil and complaint, but I just want to share and I hope you understand me correctly ... Until the age of 18 life is just uniquely pleasant and beautiful , childhood, they will never return and we will always remember them ... However, after coming of age life becomes very difficult, especially for ordinary people who have no wealth, etc. For example, when I turned 18 I worked a lot - young, strong , stubborn for a little money and the time came when the money was not enough for me and so the boring and banal life for me ended - I enrolled and became a soldier in a foreign military legion, of course for money. In the beginning it was interesting - they train you for all kinds of military situations, you make new friends, you shoot with weapons (the dream of all boys - men). After a year and a half of training, tasks and thwarting dozens of civil conflicts, my colleagues and I, who endured everything, became professional soldiers. We were sent on missions to different countries on different continents - it was scary, fun, crazy and it was worth, despite the sacrifices on our part, the injuries that my colleagues or I received. Every scar is a good or bad memory. For each sign of a perfectly accomplished mission, you receive a reward - medals, money and good memories again. So far so good, everything was wonderful before the war in Syria began. This war and the endless battles we fought there may not be comparable to anything else we have done over the years. Already with the years of service and acquired practice from the missions, there were times when we felt almost immortal - and it is very clear that this played a bad joke on us ... anyway ... in my last mission we had to storm enemy targets (5 buildings for which we received information that there were warehouses for weapons, bombs, etc.). We stormed - the first building was as if they had built it now - empty and dusty ... the second and third were connected by something like a tunnel, but they were also empty. In the assault on the fourth, it was as if hell had broken out. We go in and just see a Taliban start firing at us with a heavy machine gun, and others are throwing things a little bigger than a grenade at us - and from there a dungeon. I wake up in the hospital in a huge room, around me 5 more beds with people who later found out that they were the people from our unit who took part in this assault. The sad truth - 6 survivors and 4 young and good boys who did not survive. A great tragedy! After some time of recovery in the hospital I had to go to rehabilitation, I just refused to go to a psychologist and almost recovered ... almost ... Now a year and a few months later, to earn money (which no longer made sense and is not a priority), but the scars remained .. the memory remained .. only that the comrades are gone and I am not the same. Now is the time for the complaint and the cruel truth, which only hurts me .... I returned to Bulgaria and at the age of almost 30 I work as a private security guard because I do not have the strength for a better job and I have not studied for more. With a secondary special. education so .. anyway. The scars from dozens of injuries and from this attack, because of which I was in the hospital, etc. remained, my muscles turned into fat, I do not have the opportunity to train strength sports, because everything is starting to fuck me a lot ... From a perfect soldier I became a fat security guard, and nowadays no one looks at the story of your life and why you are like that - everyone looks at your appearance, especially women. Even when I returned to Bulgaria, I missed the war so much that I committed a serious crime, but thanks to the "things" I did during the war they justified me ... My life is lonely now: I have no friends in Bulgaria ... only a few familiar. I don't have a girlfriend or a wife because they don't like me - I didn't have a sense of vision (I'm sorry, but in the last 8-9 years of my life I wore 90% only a uniform). I no longer have muscles, but a belly - I'm sorry I was almost killed during the war. I didn't have an approach to them - women ... I'm sorry about that too - I didn't have a serious relationship, I didn't have time for such a relationship and just - I don't know anymore. Due to the lack of these important people, I started to turn into a zombie - from home to work, from work to home. From time to time I go out to restaurants or walks with relatives or my family ... but it's not the same ... I'm lonely and unhappy. I would give everything and do everything in my power to have friends, to have a wife by my side ... to be able to do something interesting, to have fun and in general ... to be happy again and to I feel ALIVE!