The active-duty Green Beret who blew up a Tesla Cybertruck outside the Trump International Hotel in Las Vegas was likely suffering from post-traumatic stress disorder and had written a note found on his charred phone stating that he hoped his actions would serve as a “wake-up call” to the American people, investigators revealed Friday.

This undated photo provided by Alicia Arritt, shows her with former Army Special Forces soldier Matthew Livelsberger, who died by suicide in a Cybertruck that exploded in front of a Trump hotel in Las Vegas on New Year’s Day. Alicia Arritt via AP
Screenshots shared by the Las Vegas Metropolitan Police Department show Matthew Livelsberger had written several messages on his phone’s Notes app. In one, the decorated U.S. soldier said Americans would pay attention only to “spectacles and violence.” In another, Livelsberger said he needed to “relieve myself of the burden of the lives I took.”
The writings and new details about his time in the military and his actions in the days leading to the explosion paint a picture of a man haunted by his experiences overseas and closer to home. Investigators said they do not think he held any grievances against President-elect Donald Trump, and instead pointed to his deteriorating mental state to explain the explosion.
Las Vegas police said Livelsberger shot himself in the head. The Cybertruck he’d rented then exploded, leaving seven bystanders with minor injuries.
“He likely suffered from PTSD, and we are also aware that there were potential other family issues,” said Spencer L. Evans, special agent in charge of the FBI’s Las Vegas field office. “It ultimately appears to be a tragic case of suicide.”

This undated photo, provided by the Las Vegas Police Department shows the Tesla Cybertruck involved in an explosion outside the Trump Hotel in Las Vegas. Las Vegas Police Department via AP
The explosion came hours after an Army veteran from Texas drove a truck with an Islamic State flag into a crowd of New Year’s revelers in New Orleans, killing 14 people. The two incidents sparked alarm and fears of an orchestrated attack, but investigators said they have not found anything to suggest a connection.
In the days before the explosion, Livelsberger had corresponded with a social media account popular with military veterans in an apparent attempt to raise concerns about military drone technology, incidents he observed in Afghanistan, and his certainty he was being followed by law enforcement as he drove the Cybertruck from Denver to Las Vegas.
Separately, an ex-girlfriend told The Washington Post that Livelsberger once confided to her that he’d suffered a traumatic brain injury while deployed overseas.
Alicia Arritt, a 39-year-old nurse who has cared for wounded military veterans, told The Post in an interview Friday that she’d dated Livelsberger on and off from 2018 to 2021.
During that time, she said, Livelsberger – who was on approved leave from his Special Forces unit in Germany at the time of his death – told her that he had struggled with a cloudy memory, poor concentration, difficulty maintaining relationships and intense guilt over his actions on the battlefield.
Arritt recognized those symptoms as consistent with what can follow a blow to the head or massive jolt to the body. Such injuries, she knew, could fuel a gradual, heartbreaking deterioration of someone’s mental state. Several of her veteran friends and former patients, she said, have died by suicide.
“He wanted to get more help,” she recalled of their conversations. “I think it was even harder for him, being on active duty – the shame and the stigma.”
Military officials have not said whether Livelsberger sought treatment for a brain injury or mental illness, citing privacy concerns. The Defense Department has turned over Livelsberger’s medical records to law enforcement, a Pentagon spokesperson said.
Traumatic brain injuries and post-traumatic stress are the signature wounds of the recent U.S. wars, and experts say repeated exposure to blasts big and small damage the neural pathways of the brain, eroding emotional regulation and profoundly damaging a person’s ability to cope with stress.
In severe cases, personalities are transformed. Struggles intensify. Lengthier combat stints elevate the threat of what the Pentagon calls “one of the invisible wounds of war.”
Livelsberger’s 18-year career, including numerous deployments to Afghanistan, put him at a heightened risk. He was awarded a Bronze Star with valor and an Army Commendation Medal with valor, the Army said – both of which honor courageous acts in combat. His five Army Good Conduct medals indicate long periods of service free of disciplinary action.
After meeting on Tinder in 2018, Arritt said she and Livelsberger began texting about his life in the military. Arritt had tended to veterans with brain injuries at Walter Reed National Military Medical Center and provided The Post with documentation of her employment there.
“Get hurt at all?” Arritt asked, according to the exchange she shared.
“Just some concussions,” he replied.
Later, she said, he revealed to her the long-term consequences. The restless nights. The trouble focusing. The frustration.
Repeated impacts can warp brain structures, scrambling memory, motor skills and emotional regulation. The damage fosters “less capacity and reserve for handling things that are psychologically disturbing,” said James Stone, professor and vice chair of radiology research at the University of Virginia, who studies brain injuries among service members.
While they were dating, Arritt said, Livelsberger had also undergone back surgery to address pain he had been experiencing after jumping out of planes. Livelsberger was qualified in free-fall jumping, the Army said, an advanced parachuting skill common among special operators.
The man she’d known hadn’t seemed like any sort of extremist, she said. Arritt described Livelsberger as “politically moderate” – though he leaned more conservative – “incredibly intelligent” and “never mean.” They’d broken up, she said, because he didn’t want to be a stepfather to her son and because she didn’t want to move around to accommodate his career.
“He was clear about what he wanted,” she said, “and was respectful about that.”
Livelsberger had been proud to serve his country, she said. He’d sent her photos of himself in camouflage fatigues, posing next to five long guns, according to images she shared with The Post. Another snapshot captured him grinning next to a muddy off-road vehicle.
Arritt was shocked, she said, when FBI agents appeared at her door Thursday, inquiring about Livelsberger’s motive. The burned Cybertruck had contained what was left of his passport, military ID, credit cards and cellphone, which showed she was among the last people whom he texted.
“I rented a Tesla Cybertruck. It’s the s—,” he typed to her at 9 a.m. Sunday before sharing photos of the vehicle.
Yet in other communications in the days leading up to his death, Livelsberger exhibited signs of mental strain.
Sam Shoemate, a retired soldier who runs an Instagram account popular with military veterans, revealed on an online show Friday that Livelsberger had reached out to him by email the day before the explosion seeking his help. He wanted Shoemate to connect him to various media outlets to air concerns he had over drone technology and “war crimes” he said he’d witnessed in Afghanistan.
Livelsberger wrote that he hoped to make it to Mexico but suspected he was being watched by federal authorities.
“I am armed and have a massive VBIED,” he wrote, using a military acronym for a vehicle-borne improvised explosive device. “I’ve been trying to maintain a very visible profile and have kept my phone, and they are definitely digitally tracking me.”
Officials said that while they have not yet conclusively determined that email came from Livelsberger, they think the correspondence is authentic. They added that Livelsberger was not on the FBI’s radar until after the explosion.
In the writings investigators found on his phone, the soldier expressed concern with America’s standing in the world and Democratic control of government. He called for soldiers and veterans to “move on DC starting now” and to “occupy every major road along fed buildings.”
Livelsberger urged people to rally around Trump and Musk, Tesla’s CEO and a close ally to the president-elect, to “ride this wave to the highest hegemony for all Americans!”
“Focus on strength and winning,” he wrote. “Masculinity is good and men must be leaders. Strength is a deterrent and fear is the product.”
Those who served alongside Livelsberger said Friday they were shocked and struggling to square the man portrayed in his troubled writings with the soldier they knew.
On a 2009 deployment in Afghanistan, Livelsberger’s compassion was on display when he brought a stray dog to the team compound to care for it, remembered Fardin Fetwat, an Afghan interpreter who worked with his unit.
When Fetwat landed a visa to settle in the United States four years later, Livelsberger picked him up from the airport and started a fundraiser to support his family’s fresh start in Denver.
“He was always a person who wanted to help other people,” said Fetwat, who said he’d never noticed a dark side.
Livelsberger’s career in Special Forces had led him to a job as a team sergeant, a senior and respected position overseeing other operators. He had recently specialized in drone warfare, said a former officer who had served with Livelsberger on two deployments. Livelsberger’s unit, the 10th Special Forces Group, oversees operations in Europe, and has developed close ties with Ukrainian counterparts during the war with Russia.
That kind of trajectory would make Livelsberger gleam in a post-service career, the former officer said, speaking on the condition of anonymity because he still works in the government. The one-time colleague expressed regret that Livelsberger hadn’t gotten the help he needed, noting that many soldiers still endure hardship in silence.
“He is a casualty of these long wars,” he said.
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