Transcript
I am a father today,
I'm a husband today,
I'm a valued employee today,
I'm of service today.
(birds chirping)
My name is Eddie Statsmann.
I'm a US Army veteran
from a long line of US Army veterans.
I know what I wanted to
do while I was in the army
and that was fight.
You know, that's all I ever
knew how to do is fight.
But I think what I was looking for was
just some friends.
(breeze blowing)
I didn't have no friends growin' up.
When you live in a shack
with no running water
and it's embarrassing to
bring kids over, you know,
when you tell kids at school
that you're in a foster home
you know, you don't do that.
You don't have no friends.
(roadway passing)
On the night of joining, you know,
when I was in Phoenix, Arizona
and we went back to the hotel,
a series of incidents led to a stranger
tying me up, beating me,
and raping me at gunpoint.
Boom.
(distant traffic passing)
(distant siren)
As soon as I could get my hands untied
I called 9-1-1.
(dispatch radio chatter)
There was no compassion on that night.
I didn't feel it.
The army did nothing for me.
But that next day, I'm in
a room with 20 other people
that are police and military officials,
and stuff like that.
And they had me bent over a table
giving me a rape test.
I felt like evidence.
It was just the most
degrading thing I ever felt.
And in my head I had two thoughts.
I could either commit
suicide or I could go ahead
and be the most hardcore soldier I can be
and just bust my hump.
The thoughts ate me up
'cause it was a hard existence, you know?
I drank a lot.
I left the military after two
years and 10 months of service
and after I got out, I
started methamphetamines.
I ended up getting married.
I had children.
I was high that whole time.
And I went from being a
functioning individual
with dreams and goals
to a homeless, drug-addicted addict
riding around with bike gangs
and doing horrible things to people
and not taking care of myself.
I caught felony charges,
I was threatened with
life in prison by a judge.
I lost my children to foster care.
I was so messed up that I
had completely forgotten
what had happened to me, what I was doing,
why I was doing it.
I heard someone say, "Eddie, go to LA."
Turned around real quick
there was nobody there.
Call it what you want but
I call it an experience.
When you go into LA where
I don't know anybody
and I thought to myself
why not go to the V.A.?
At 10:00 on Friday night, I
was at the hospital front door
telling the guy, "I'm broke, I'm hungry,
I'm homeless, and I'm
tired, and I need help."
And he had me in a program
on Friday night at midnight.
You know, you don't script
it better than that.
(drone zipping)
I was diagnosed with PTSD in 2009
after going into rehab.
I had no idea that what
was going on with me
was considered PTSD.
It felt so relieving
just to have somebody I could tell it to.
I got to the point where I believe that
I was a survivor and not a victim.
So I keep, I stay in, I stay in therapy.
I apply everything I learn in therapy.
I use it on a daily basis.
I don't have to think about
using it, I just do it.
- Bye dad, love you.
- I love you, see you later, Jason.
I never took care of my kids
for the first nine years.
Have a good day at school.
- Bye dad, love you.
- Love you, have a good
day at school, man.
Darmy.
So today, having that desire and drive
to go to work to make sure
there's food in the fridge.
Have a good day at
school, baby, I love you.
You guys have fun.
See ya later.
To make sure the internet's
on to do homework,
to make sure the lights
are on so they can see,
like that is Dad stuff, to me.
But to tell them I love them
even before I leave the house,
every time before I leave the house
and hear them all say
back, "love you, Dad,"
that's amazing, man. (laughing)
That's who I am today, I'm
doin' okay. (chuckling)