My Small World

If you read my original blog “From Military Veteran to Serving Veterans”, you will know that while on pre-deployment between Texas and Kuwait, I was slowly losing my mind and was returned to the United States while my unit went to Iraq.  This all happened in 2009, one of the worst years of my life. This is a post of connecting and reconnecting, as well as new beginnings on the road to recovery.  Please take the next several minutes to read, in hopes that if you too are struggling, you will find solace and comfort in knowing that it IS possible for life to take a turn towards a positive light.

Some general background on the last twelve months of my life.  As of this point last year, I was engaged to a man I considered my rock, my best friend.  I was engaged (as far as I knew) to a man who promised the next however many years we were granted, yet he struggled to hold true for me as I was working on getting through a very severe, several months long depression.  Fast forward to more recent months, and it was confirmed to me that his decision to stray and end things was absolutely one-hundred percent due to the fact he just simply could not handle my emotional turmoil.  Looking back in hindsight, there were things that kept me on eggshells between us and while I felt he opened my communication skills, I was still afraid to tell him things that could potentially upset him.  I realized whenever we talked about my financials, he would lecture me as if I was his daughter, not his partner.  No matter at this point (the true present), we are both better off apart.  I had one rebound since then, plus a couple of failed attempts at online dating.  I decided at some point last year I was done with the dating scene.  I promised myself whoever the next guy was (if I even dared to allow it), he would literally fall out of the sky and into my lap.

Flashback to the summer of 1994.  I met the most handsome young teenage boy I had ever laid eyes upon.  Oh yeah, I was walking with friends and we saw him on his bike.  Pretty sure I yelled a smart remark to him, calling him a silly name that stuck.  I have fond memories of a sweet summer and the first couple of months in our sophomore year, spending time first as best friends talking for hours on end outside my parents’ garage, to a tragic end of our short-lived romance being ripped apart purely by circumstance.  Please remember this paragraph and hang onto your hats, folks.  I promise there will be more to come later in this post, as well as depending on how things play out (good or bad), there will be future posts.

Flashforward to late summer 2017.  I was teleworking regularly back then.  I was at home in my exe’s dark house, sitting in that dreary office, when my girl who I will call Sergeant A happened to message me.  She discovered at a random moment of chance that my name was listed in the VA as being someone who works there.  She sent me an IM.  We chatted a little, talked about getting dinner together at some point.  It really didn’t go much further at the time, as at the time I still was living with a lot of guilt over what I had been calling (until VERY recently) my “failed deployment”.  Again, more about this later in this post.

If you read my original blog (as stated in the first paragraph), I did indicate there were positive doors opening for me as a veteran.  However, it has taken me a total of nine (count them NINE) years plus, and another short hospital stay just two weeks ago to realize simply this… I am a good woman, mother, family member, friend.  I am also a damn fine veteran!  Here are how things truly went down for me, as I’m sure there are naysayers out there who wonder how on earth, I made it two months shy of hitting twelve years in the military.

I joined impulsively yes, in February 1998.  I was off to basic training within two weeks of signing up.  I did my training, often times wondering what in the world I exactly got myself into, but I did it.  I received an award from my drill sergeants as the Most Improved Soldier in the Company.  Oh yes, I still have this award in a place for safe keeping.  It makes me proud.  I went from being the homesick young girl who cried at the most inconvenient times, to Sandi G., Army Girl.  Now I’m sure you all realize, I was in the Army National Guard in Wisconsin my entire career.  For those of you who don’t really know, today’s soldiers in the National Guard will often have more than one deployment overseas during their careers.  Take example, my friend, R who was preparing for his fourth deployment.  This guy is the highest rated, service-connected disabled veteran in the state of Wisconsin.  Yes, he went on his fourth deployment with that rating.  Point being, don’t ever think once to yourselves that all the National Guard does is deploy within the states in the event of natural disasters.  They still do that, too but there have been countless, repeated deployments for my brothers and sisters over the years since 9/11 happened.  At this point in time, it doesn’t seem to be all over the news as it once was, but we still have soldiers with boots on ground to this day. 

Back to my career.  In September 2000, I was hired to work full time in the National Guard, and I received my Sergeant E-5 in January 2004.  During my career, I spent countless extra weekends, working hours on end, assisting soldiers in preparation for deployment.  In November 2007, I was promoted to Staff Sergeant E-6 and moved my small family up to northern Wisconsin to take the position.  Things started okay as I realized my immediate supervisor was a previous coworker back at State. Things went downhill though in a sense as I struggled to hone in on leadership skills I really didn’t possess.  Then in 2009, deployment happened, and in Texas I was really losing my mind.  I was zoning out so hard core at the time, I had not one, but two negligent discharges in the barrels.  Fortunately, all we were carrying at the time were magazines with blanks, but no matter, a gunshot echoing in a barrel is enough for one to almost become incontinent.  These two incidents caused me to lose a pay grade, and I had to stand before the Battalion Commander as she screamed at me, asking what my problem was.  Mind you, I had worked in the same directorate with this woman for many years in my previous position.  It was horrifying, indeed.

It was the very end of April or middle of May I believe when we were supposed to fly out of Kuwait.  By that point, things were just escalating into a downward spiral.  Paranoia kicked in coupled with hot flashes going through my body when I thought people were talking about me.  I remember being on an air-conditioned bus once, half asleep, believing the two foreign nationals at the front were talking about “the Americans” and having a crazy conversation in English about how they would “get them”.  Very ridiculous as in hindsight, I do know now that back then they were actually speaking their middle-eastern language and I couldn’t have picked out an actual word they said.  Getting lost in your own head will play tricks on you.  These last few lines describe the bare minimum of what was actually going through my mind and body at the time things were falling apart.

Back to the day of flying out, I was very nervous about the whole thing and asked one of the few I trusted what I should do.  She told me to go to the TMC on base and request a prescription for anxiety.  I did just that, except when they had me sitting on the cot in the big tent, I was shaking so bad I was shaking the entire room of that tent.  (It was not small by any means).  I did my first “purge” of information I had ever done in my entire life.  By the time I was done, the doctor looked at me and said I was not going over to Iraq.  I’m not sure if I felt relieved honestly, except only for the fact I knew I could not accidentally harm one of my own brethren in a moment of Sergeant G (me) zoning out one too many times.

Going back to Fort Bliss was not by any means a cakewalk.  It took a couple of weeks left alone with one of my sisters in Kuwait to head back to the States.  It’s possible it may have even taken up to four weeks with her.  I don’t know as a lot of my memory is skewed from that timeframe.  (I’ve blocked out memories in life period!)  I spent two 3-week, back to back hospitalizations at the end of summer prior to going home in October.  Literally I was out of one, and that next afternoon I was back in another.

Flashforward to what’s been happening in the present.  The week before Christmas in 2018, I spent a day and a half in the Veterans hospital on the mental health wing.  I started to feel more positive, less like a failure, so I started my first post in the “Life is a Struggle but I am Strong” blog (which you are reading now).  I started attending a group and continue with my individualized, non-combat PTSD therapy plus regular counseling.  (At present I’ll be referred to another sort of therapy in the coming weeks.)  Then a few weeks ago some crazy things started happening in life.

Okay, this is probably what you’ve all been hanging on for.  Here goes although the majority of detail I will save for a later time in life, due to our own reasons at this time.  After finding each other on Facebook approximately a year and a half ago, four weeks ago (or so), I reached out to Mr. X. as I noted there were some distressing things he was posting.  I told him my piece, he said a few words back, I messaged him one more time and that was that.  I had assumed at the time he was just thinking I didn’t know as much as he did about life’s struggles. 

Two weekends ago I was hungover yet again, stressing about making it through the day without wasting it.  I had posted some baloney on Facebook the night before and managed to apologize profusely for the train wreck I was to my ex-fiancé.  I was feeling really depressed about what I mess I was inside, when Mr. X sent me a “wave” and I said, “Hey X!!  How are you?”  My heart was pounding madly as the morning went on.  After a lot of FB messages, a long phone conversation, and then texts exchanged, we knew we had to see each other.  Could he be the man who literally fell out of the sky and back into my lap?  I made an impulsive move to drive 400 miles in six hours to go see him.  In hindsight I understand why my loved ones were upset, and I should have at least informed one of my family members (yes, I will be informing them from here on out when I skip town).  As far as a day and a half trip goes reconnecting, X and I have absolutely no regret about that.  Connecting on a level so deep you wonder if someone is your twin?  After countless hours at night on the phone, plus talking every morning getting ready for work and the drive in, there’s no doubt we have common goals.  We’re just not going to act impulsively as far as co-mingling in the same household.  I will leave you with this… Mr. X. was the sweetest, kindest gentleman back then.  He had a look for me back then. We are different people as we grew up individually.  But there are some things that never really change in life even as peope mature.  I’d say it’s safe to say the fact I’m inspired to write poetry speaks volumes.  Disclaimer here is while I may like to write blogs and jot thoughts down in my journals, I’ve never once in my life was really into poetry, let alone inspired by my muse to do this plus the wording I choose to reflect on my feelings for him.  We spent this past weekend hanging out again, talking and even visiting with another friend on a random mini road trip.  Crazy madness.  You’ll all know in the end how things go, but that is for a much later time in life, whether things settle into a crazy love story or they simply crash and burn.  We have enough conversations to know how we will handle things, either way.  

Now on to last week.  Tuesday I was saddened yet inspired by an older gentleman, definitely Vietnam Vet era, who broke down in my arms as I was going to go on a break.  I listened, empathized, consoled him the way I seem to be able to do now with people.  I ensured after he started brightening up that he was hooked up with VA’s mental health team.  He stated he was and had an appointment the following day.  I let him in on a secret, that I too was quite familiar with the providers there and I had been in counseling since the last four years.  I ensured he was okay to drive when he was getting in his car.  He assured me he had faith in God and he would say a prayer before driving away.  I believe I made the rest of that man’s day better.  As I walked away, he told me I was beautiful and his angel; in the right place at the right time.

Wednesday after work, after having gotten to work early, not enough sleep and having had two appointments back to back earlier in the day, I was beyond frantic about going to sit in the pharmacy.  See, there are times I still get a bit paranoid in the VA, and chronic de ja vu only exacerbates this feeling.  I almost plowed down another gentleman who was also from the Vietnam era.  He was so pleasant and smiling as I apologized and tried to smile back.  He stopped me, he could see the shaking, the fact I was near in tears as he took my arm and attempted to coach me through deep breathing.  I was having a hard time with it, but I thanked him and hugged him tight.  He said the same thing to me as the gentleman the day before, “right place, right time”.  He was MY angel, MY God-send.  I got through the panic as I waited thinking about the kind stranger as well as Mr. X being kind enough to coach me in my mind and calm me down with the strange presence I cannot shake.

I would like to touch ever so briefly on Pandora’s Box.  It has been opening, slightly for me, since my first short lived hospital stay last December.  I had still been struggling though to come up with memories until my muse showed up.  In the last ten days, having opened up to each other even more, has opened it even more-so.  Never mind the fact I only knew him for about six months in high school, and then had about twenty-five years without him in my life.  It has been opening rapidly, in great flashes that cause a lot of memories to come flooding me so deeply and in great detail.  Pandora’s Box is both a blessing and a curse.  It is a blessing that I’m regaining fond memories of childhood, high school, adult years.  It is a curse as I relive some of the traumas.  I’ve lived through these dating so far back, I barely had a clue as to why I blocked everything.  Now I know.  It can be a curse, but now with my muse, I can talk and bare my soul in a safe haven that prepares me for dealing with counseling and getting through more days at work.  I am actually doing really well in this short time frame getting to work and surviving the days without taking random leave time.

Now, back to my deployment sister Sergeant A.  Roughly a year ago, I had to go up a few floors for an appointment for myself.  I passed by Sergeant A’s clinic, heard her voice, and kept walking.  Back to this past Wednesday, I had an appointment on the same floor for something similar.  As I saw the sign for her clinic that I was passing by, I stopped and took a deep breath.  I put on a smile and entered, telling her who I was.  Her greeting and smile in response were all I needed to realize, she never really judged me as I had thought years ago.  But it wasn’t just her back then.  I was convinced everyone in my unit JUDGED me and harshly for “leaving”.  I was convinced until I saw Sergeant A, that I still had failed at deployment.  Her warm and happy greeting melted these fears.  She inspired me so much, after my two appointments, I headed back to work and emailed her immediately.  I explained to her why, approximately a year and a half ago, I couldn’t really bring myself to chat on IM with her.  I explained to her why, a year ago, I quietly passed by her clinic without a word.  This sweet young woman, I moved her to tears.  She stated she never judged, never knew I felt that way, and assured me she still is to this day my battle buddy.  God bless her, we have been talking about more through Skype and we hope to really get together for dinner soon.  God bless her also, as she helped me realize something VERY important.  She didn’t judge me, and I’m willing to bet the majority of my unit didn’t either.  It’s just water under the bridge and they all cared for me, they all knew it was for the best.  It’s taking me a long time to embrace this thought but embrace it I shall.

Thinking on the craziness of the last couple of weeks with Mr. X., my reconnecting with my military sister, having two random connections two days in a row with complete strangers.  Yet the two strangers could feel my shine.  The first day I was shining bright for the world and listened and charged him with my vibes of caring and positivity.  The second encounter my shine was darkened and I was in a blind, raging anxiety mode, and the kind man who helped me felt the negative charges coming from me.  In addition, I cannot describe the constant charge through my core over the last seventeen days as this post really isn’t about romance and all that junk.  This post is about recovery, feeling inspired by these crazy connections, EACH AND EVERY ONE OF THEM.  I’m inspired by X.  I’m inspired by Sergeant A.  I’m inspired by my two encounters with the Vietnam vets.  

Never in a million years would I have thought of confessing to a veteran that I’m not friends with how I go to counseling, too.  I have my weak days, too.  But I tell you folks, every day gets stronger for me.  I’m truly inspired by the few I mentioned, in addition to my daughter and loved ones, in addition to my career which is my passion.  I’m inspired to shine for others throughout recovery, so I may inspire them in times of their trouble.  I’m inspired to start up conversations with my brothers and sisters in arms just to get to know and help others by sharing my story of positive changes if they so ask.  I’m inspired to recover with such force, I can make my dreams come true.  One of my dreams is to go back to school for social work.  I have such a fierce passion for my vets, that would be the ultimate dream goal.  Recovery will come first though as I refuse to be in a slump where I’m calling in and cancelling appointments on my veterans.  My other dream is to write.  It always has been in the back of my mind.  Starting my blog back up and journaling will assist me in not only the journey of recovery, but as well my dream of publishing my own story.  My goals are to start compiling notes in the next five years and be accepted by a publisher in the next ten.  Folks, I have so much I want to tell you all, whether you are close to me, whether we are just mere Facebook friends, or whether we will never cross paths physically in life.  Know that my heart goes out to anyone who is suffering.  I pray for each one of you all the time.  I pray now that you will see the light I am shining through my faith in God and personal recovery.  Whether you believe or not, whether you have a different from of a higher power, practice in prayer and remember this:  change comes from within.  There IS help, there ARE people who care, but it most certainly starts with Number One (you and your inner being).  Always strive to improve your own well-being, so you can take care of numbers two, three and so on.  Whether they are immediate family in your life, whether they are a family not created by blood.  Take care of yourself, make the decision to truly ask for help, the rest will come.  The rest will come my friends.  I promise you this.  All you have to do is ask, know that this blogger has PLENTY of skeletons to know better than to be judging any one of you.  No matter how fierce your situation, if you ask for help, the rest will come.  Much love and prayers for you all.  Thank you.

                -Sandi G.

P.S. Dear family of mine, please know I am treading carefully.  I just want happiness in my life, too and I refuse to let an inspiring opportunity to pass me by.  I love you all dearly and appreciate your never-ending caring and support.