In all my years, I never thought that the transition from civilian to military back to civilian would be so challenging. I enlisted to serve my country, travel, add power to my resume, and for adult independence. Part of my reasoning also could have been escapism, upon further scrutiny. I had wished that I could have gone in as an officer instead of enlisted due to my college experience.
But, I discovered, whether someone was on either end of the spectrum, most still acted like they were in high school with the childish behavior and cliques. I felt that I might have made the wrong decision, but I pushed through, hoping for a change of circumstances. When I got injured, my hopes of a jump from enlisted to officer were shattered. I started to become downtrodden and fell into a bit of an identity crisis. As time went on and I went on my first, and only deployment, I lost grip on who I was and let my anxiety get the best of me. Not only was I in a new chapter of my life with new rules and regulations, but I had long questioned the spiritual aspect as well. I also had been torn away from everything and everyone that I had known for years... my support system and comfortable surroundings.
I traded it in for mental tribulations and a uniform to wear with honor and integrity. For those who disgrace the uniform and see it as a joke or a way to slide by, I shame you. I grew up around this culture and few people these days will actually stand up to defend our country and the ideals and freedoms that we hold dear.
Once I had begun my military career, there was no turning back. I had to fulfill my contract. As my mental outlook became grim, I withdrew from those that I had made the acquaintance of and became even more lonely. I felt that no one could understand me. It didn't help that a family member died and that another was battling cancer while I was away. I felt helpless because I couldn't be home with my family during those trying times. I mourned from afar, but no one knew what was truly going on with me because I always put on a strong front and focused on my work. Finally I came to a realization that something wasn't right and that I should seek help. Everyone was understanding and didn't see me as weak (as much as I thought they would).
Later in my career, things got tougher as I not only battled mental, but physical anguish as well. They both played hand-in-hand. One made the other worse. I still battle my demons, and am adjusting to civilian life once more.
I am thankful for my support system of family and friends, as well as my dog, and fellow service members. I'm ready to continue my journey full speed ahead.
But, I discovered, whether someone was on either end of the spectrum, most still acted like they were in high school with the childish behavior and cliques. I felt that I might have made the wrong decision, but I pushed through, hoping for a change of circumstances. When I got injured, my hopes of a jump from enlisted to officer were shattered. I started to become downtrodden and fell into a bit of an identity crisis. As time went on and I went on my first, and only deployment, I lost grip on who I was and let my anxiety get the best of me. Not only was I in a new chapter of my life with new rules and regulations, but I had long questioned the spiritual aspect as well. I also had been torn away from everything and everyone that I had known for years... my support system and comfortable surroundings.
I traded it in for mental tribulations and a uniform to wear with honor and integrity. For those who disgrace the uniform and see it as a joke or a way to slide by, I shame you. I grew up around this culture and few people these days will actually stand up to defend our country and the ideals and freedoms that we hold dear.
Once I had begun my military career, there was no turning back. I had to fulfill my contract. As my mental outlook became grim, I withdrew from those that I had made the acquaintance of and became even more lonely. I felt that no one could understand me. It didn't help that a family member died and that another was battling cancer while I was away. I felt helpless because I couldn't be home with my family during those trying times. I mourned from afar, but no one knew what was truly going on with me because I always put on a strong front and focused on my work. Finally I came to a realization that something wasn't right and that I should seek help. Everyone was understanding and didn't see me as weak (as much as I thought they would).
Later in my career, things got tougher as I not only battled mental, but physical anguish as well. They both played hand-in-hand. One made the other worse. I still battle my demons, and am adjusting to civilian life once more.
I am thankful for my support system of family and friends, as well as my dog, and fellow service members. I'm ready to continue my journey full speed ahead.
