Two years ago, I found myself in the bedroom of my apartment staring down the barrel of a shotgun. I was angry, depressed and just didn't care about anything anymore. It's not that I didn't want to care; I did, but was just unable to do it. My soul was crushed and my heart had been broken time after time during intense fighting in Iraq and the continuous loss of friends at home after. In Iraq, I found it easier to give up than to care. But the problem was that once I stopped caring, I couldn't turn the switch back on. It was like dropping a glass plate on the ground and then trying to put the pieces back together.