Transcript
(billiard balls clacking)
(upbeat music)
There are a lot of
stereotypes, you know?
People see me, first thing
they see is a large Black man.
You know, a lot of people who I talked to,
they didn't even think
I got shot in the army.
They just thought I was in a
gang or something like that.
You know, it was easier to
associate me getting shot
by a gang member rather
than by a sniper in Iraq.
(billiard balls clacking)
I looked down at both my legs
covered in a pool of blood,
and I thought, "Oh,
we're gonna die here.
We are going to die."
There had to be about four
surgeries in Iraq and in Germany,
and then when I got back to the States,
it was about 14 surgeries in the hospital.
I made this miraculous recovery
and I was able to keep both my legs.
I have an injury that's high up on my leg.
In order to see the entire scar,
I almost have to lift the
hospital gown all the way up.
I mean, I could see some
hesitation in some of the nurses
and being a large Black man,
it was really uncomfortable
for me because I didn't
want anybody to say
I tried to sexually assault them
or I'm trying to flash them,
so it was a lot of tension
in some of those rooms.
After I got out the army,
I dealt with a lot of survivor's guilt,
and I dealt with that
the only way I knew how,
which was to drink,
and that's when the PTSD
started to settle in
really, really bad.
I also was having daydreams
and nightmares about
getting shot by the sniper.
I had this scenario in my mind
that the sniper didn't shoot to kill me,
he shot to wound me,
and he would come back later
on in life and finish the job.
So this was what was on my
mind every time I went outside.
(soft music)
So I was drinking myself
to sleep every night.
I wasn't taken serious,
by clinicians at the VA.
I hate to say it, but when you're Black,
you can just feel these things.
You can feel the respect
that people have for you.
You can feel the respect
people don't have for you.
You can just feel it, and
in some of those rooms
that I went to, felt rushed
out, didn't feel heard,
didn't feel listened
to, didn't feel wanted,
so I hated the VA for a long time.
I would go without medication
or go without talking to someone
just because of the way I
was being treated there.
(somber music)
So I just continued to
drink and drink and drink,
and then one day, I drank
two bottles of Bacardi,
I took a handful of pills, and
drove myself to the hospital
and said, "I tried to kill myself.
Save me if you can."
And when I woke up, I was in a padded room
and the first person I saw was my mom,
and I thought, "Ugh, you
can't do this to your mom."
They told me about this program
called the Warrior Salute Program.
They said, "We're gonna
get you off the street,
we're gonna get you a job,
and we're gonna get you
the help that you need."
And I started doing group
therapy with other veterans
and that's when things
started to turn around.
(upbeat music)
I had an opportunity to
move to Atlanta in 2010.
The best thing the VA did for me
was I had a African-American
female therapist down here.
I was able to open up to her.
There's nothing like being able
to express how I really felt
to a Black doctor that understood
what I was going through,
and I wouldn't be afraid to express it
in a way that I wanted to express it,
in a way that I felt
wouldn't get me arrested
or wouldn't get something put
in my charter, in my notes
that later on down the line
would come back to bite me.
Any veterans in the room?
One, okay, perfect.
I was a Cav Scout.
I've been speaking for 10 years now.
When I'm on stage, I'm
able to share those stories
and talk about how much I
beat it, and more importantly,
help other military families understand
what their veteran's going through.
Having the opportunity to get on stage
and share this story with other veterans,
you know, it's very therapeutic,
physical and mental healing.
Nothing like it, nothing like it at all.
So that's what keeps me going.