There is a man out there. I will not name him, however I have known this guy for many years. By complete coincidence, I was at Fort Huachuca sitting in the internet cafe. This person walks in, and looks so familiar to me. He was in uniform, same as I. After looking at his name tag, I realize this man was at Casa by the Sea with me. I chat with him for a bit, turns out he was the second graduate from my time frame to enlist.

Fast forward to Iraq. A classmate from Fort Huachuca came to Balad for a few days and I saw her for a little bit. She told me that one of my old Mexico friends was in her unit, the same man I saw years before. I asked her if he ever talked about Mexico, and she told me "He has not said a single word about it. He is too afraid to talk about it. From what you have told me, I don't blame him." This from a grown man, in a warzone, in 2006.

When I resigned from CAFETY, I knew this would be the worst consequence of my actions. So many people I knew cannot talk about it. They hide it with "the program saved my life," for fear of rejection from their parents. I've had graduates, not knowing that I was at Casa by the Sea, lie straight to my face about what happened there.

Worst of all, I have never met another military person who can talk about it. Our culture says to hide these emotions, keep them inside because it is our job. It eats us up the worst. I was their voice, I was the voice of so many who were abused and tortured.