Tuesday, May 29, 2018, 1845 Hrs.
As a former soldier, I get the same questions most times when people talk to me about my service. Frankly, they can become a pain in the ass to me! I never abuse the person asking me, but I do try to find a way to change the subject and quickly because I become quite impatient with the subject matter. “Why?” I always ask myself, does it always come down to this stupid damned question?
“Did you ever have to kill somebody?” what in hell does that have to do with me as a person or as a service member?
“you men better get this straight, right now; sissies won’t cut it here, milksops and pussies will be dragged back to the block, looking for a job in less than a week!” : mommy and daddy ain’t here, it’s me and that’s it!” “your asses belong to me, and the United States Army, get used to this, and you’ll have a chance!” ” Any of you whiners and complainers, who think that it’s too mentally challenging and you need to see a shrink, can step forward now, and get the hell out, now!”
This is some of the indoctrination bullshit that we were told when I entered into the service. Don’t complain about emotional problems, or you’ll be singled out for “special” training, and other types of veiled threats of that type. The language was raw and it was to the point. There were no illusions as to what they had in store for us, they wanted us to fall in line, on the line, and do it the “army way” no matter what, no excuses!
I am jumping way ahead in this blog, I have other stories I could add here, but they are not the point. What is the point is that one day I felt something inside of my head say “enough of this shit, something’s wrong with us!” I ignored this warning sign, I went into a self-protect mode and kept it all to myself. I was in it to help other people, not complain about something that I didn’t want to admit what was going on inside of myself. I had been trained not to do this so I thought I had it under control as long as I didn’t talk about it. Wrong answer buddy!
I found myself in the hospital, not knowing how I got there or why I was transported there in the first place. Oh, they came in and gave me drugs and had me do all of the other things that they have you do in an army hospital. Make your beds, and then get back in it. More stupidity or just a way to make the patient know that he is still functional.
While I was “resting” here, I was examined by a psychiatrist. I didn’t know it at the time, but I was deemed to be suicidal, me! Hell I was adventurous and I would volunteer for details that might have had some danger attached, but suicidal? Bullshit, I thought. I’m a soldier and I’m a medic, I’d know if there was something wrong with me! I was wrong, I was in denial but I was also in pain.
I was ungrateful about this new development, I was angry I was afraid, and I was really confused. I knew that this had to be true because I had seen it in other guys before. I was terrified by this new turn in my life, what the hell would I do now?
More to come.
Peace, to all!