I know that the Army taught me to be very tedious when it came to appearance, and regulations....you can ask any of my Soldiers, I made sure they knew the regs and it was a very rare occurrence if I didn't know a reg...but it wouldn't take me long to find it. I'd always get the info to them. So, back when we wore the woodland camo uniforms and the black leather boots, I was one of those who wore the highly shined boots and heavily starched uniforms. I had a very tight attention to detail and I always ensured I knew what the right thing to do was, and if I didn't know, I looked it up.
Where am I going with this? Well, this is perhaps a two fold blog. One: My OCD here at home and Two: my attention to detail when it comes to Soldiers and Leaders.
I made plans to have company today. So, I started cleaning house..even though it was already pretty much clean...well, it must not have been if I continued to clean. I am very particular when it comes to the house. Everythings gotta be in its place, the table can't have anything on it (dust, cat hair, dog hair, ashes....all which you cannot avoid in a house of smokers and animal lovers....). I cleaned the house, put everything in their exact place, and during my friends visit, I caught myself wiping the table off I don't know how many times. I really don't know where this came from but I know I did this the other day with my laundry. And that was my first clue that my OCD was really bad. My clothing is sorted by color in the drawers...REALLY? I look back and think WTF? But, I wouldn't stop until it was just right. Same thing with my closet. All hangars have to face the same way, all shirts have to face the same way. All like shirts are hung together (long sleeves in their place, polo's in theirs, sweaters in theirs, pants in theirs)....and I find myself getting angry at myself for being so picky. Why must I obsess about it? I couldn't even tell you. I just don't feel right unless its perfect. Everything has to be in its proper place and if its even a centimeter off, I have to move it to where it belongs.
Yes, the Army taught me to have attention to detail but this is a lil ridiculous. Not that I mind, because my house usually stays pretty clean because of this, but there's gotta be a limit to this obsessiveness lol. My coasters have to be placed just right or I'm not happy. And this is where my OCD has affected me as a Soldier/Leader.
I don't see it as a bad thing, because I would uphold the standards when no one else would. I would correct someone for having their hands in their pockets, and I would remind them repeatedly everytime I caught them. Eventually it got to the point where if the Soldier saw me coming, they instantly took their hands out of their pockets. They knew my pet peeves and sunglasses on the forehead and hands in the pockets were the two biggest ones for me. They knew I wasn't an NCO who would let it go. So, I guess, in a way my OCD was a benefit. Because my Soldiers knew the standards and complied with the standards, bringing them far above many of their peers. However, sometimes OCD can have a negative effect. Especially when you find yourself cleaning up the shop constantly...and/or snipping at the Soldier for a mess they made in the process of doing their jobs...come on, their WORKING....you don't need to obsess about that unless they walk away from the mess without cleaning it up. Although, there were times my obsession would get me into trouble. I'd argue with the leadership because I knew the regulations and would be standing up for my Soldiers and it was like they didn't hear me. So I'd continue to argue, and fight the chain of command about their ignorance. This wasn't the best thing for me...but it benefited my Soldiers---usually after getting highly frustrated and arguing til I was blue in the face, I'd finally get them to see where I was coming from and I'd win the battle. So I guess, for the most part, my OCD was and still remains a positive thing. I refuse to allow myself to become disorganized. I keep records of everything...and with the MEB being in progress, this was a very wise decision on my part. Their going to know EVERYTHING thats happened to me since joining the Army. I won't allow them to walk all over me...even though over the course of the last 14 years I've pretty much allowed them to. I put everything and everyone before myself. It's me time now. Although, I'm still there for my Soldiers. I've made that known that no matter what, they can always call on me. I can't cut them out of my life, their why I live and breathe today.

"War is sweet for the inexperienced." In no way will I ever try to compare my combat experience to that of an Infantryman, Sniper, MP, Tanker or a Combat Medic, however, one thing that brings us all together is the after effects we carry home with us. Post Traumatic Stress Disorder is an injury that ranges from mild to severe to debilitating. Folks need to know that despite the lack of visible scars, we're still wounded.
WARNING: This site contains emotionally charged and graphic accounts of my experiences concerning combat PTSD. Some posts may trigger someone suffering from a trauma-based disorder and others may equally be affected!
Saturday, June 19, 2010
Knowing your rights......
Now I come to the thing that really upsets me about military doctors (some, not all) and their lack of true concern for Soldiers needs.
I have been blessed with some of the best counselors the Army could provide. Some have not been so fortunate. Their doc either doesn't care one way or another about that Soldier or their completely blind to the Soldiers needs.
And I hear stories about Soldiers seeking help and being told their faking it, or they just need to get out of the Army. Ok.....if that's the case, what are you doing to prove their faking it and what are you doing to take care of their needs while you process them out of the Army?
Yes, there are Soldiers out there that milk the system. It happens, we've all seen the sick call rangers, and they piss us off...why? Because for those of us who are actually suffering from one ailment or another have an even harder battle of proving our issues because of these individuals. My first injury in the Army occurred in 1998. I tore the ligaments in both my feet. I sought treatment over and over and was treated like a complete dirtbag. Eventually, because of the lack of treatment, I ended up with a permanent condition. Thankfully, the docs in Korea saw the facts and did their best to deal with the issue. I was put on a P3 profile for my feet and I just dealt with the pain. It hasn't gone away, but I cope. I wasn't about to let them cut on my feet, could just see myself now with nerve damage or something lol. So, I wasn't about to let them cut on me.
But it took me forever to get the docs to see my issue. And it was because of Soldiers who went to sickcall with nothing wrong with them, just to avoid going to runs, and the docs were growing tired of people milking the sickcall. So, rather than being openminded when I went in, they immediately were on the offensive and treated me like shit. Not surprised though, now that I look back on it. Because I know what they've had to deal with. I've had a few Soldiers who did this, never really saw it until I was in a leadership position and noticed the trends.
Now, why am I talking about this? Because I see Soldiers suffering and some are suffering so badly that they have serious anger issues and they've gotten themselves into trouble so therefore because they've gotten into trouble their treated like complete dirtbags all the time. Of course, this only increases their anger issues and most often than not results in more trouble. How about we do our best to help the Soldier? Even if they have anger issues? Perhaps if they actually see that someone TRULY DOES CARE, they wouldn't be so angry and bitter all the time? Hmmm...what a concept.
Soldiers get mistreated or don't get treated at all when they seek help and it usually ends up permanentally scarring them for life. Because the Army used to be all about taking care of Soldiers. Nowadays its not like that. Don't get me wrong, some may see it as taking care of Soldiers, but I don't. There's a difference between taking care of a Soldier and babysitting them. Don't hover over them and watch their every more. But don't make it seem like your doing it as merely a requirement. Show genuine concern for the Soldiers needs. Actually listen to the Soldier, hear what they have to say and take what they say to heart. Don't take offense if their being blunt with you because their at their boiling point. Let them vent, and don't take action against them....I think thats where so many have gotten lost here.
Yes, discipline is very important in the military, however, your dealing with Soldiers who suffer from an injury and that injury includes anger issues for most if not all of us. So, knowing this, you shouldn't turn the tables on them when their venting their anger (that is unless they've become violent and even then it should be a case by case basis and before you take any such action against anyone, you need to send them to their doc first).
The reason Soldiers turn to their battle buddies to their left and right for comfort and counsel is because their leaders don't provide it. When that is our job as leaders. We are to be there for our Soldiers no matter what, no matter the time of day, no matter if we are on leave, they call on us, we should answer. There aren't many leaders left that still do this. Even if the Soldier messed up, as a leader we're to assist them through that as well. Provide them the necessary resources and services required to get past that. Help to rehabilitate them, don't banish them. And don't babysit. There's a difference between taking care of your Soldiers and babysitting them. Babysitting is a "job", taking care of Soldiers should not be. It should be a given. You don't have to watch a Soldiers every move, but know whats going on. No wonder Soldiers don't tell their leaders what their planning to do on the weekend, because their going to get the scripted speeches. How about having a get together with your Soldiers so that you can actually get to know them? Build comradery amongst your team? That's how Soldiers bond. And those bonds last a lifetime. The ones we are closest to are the ones we will still talk to when we 80 years old. The leaders who gave their all to their Soldiers are the ones those Soldiers will emulate for years to come, and they will pass their legacy on. The leaders who didn't give a rats ass about us are the ones we leave in the dust. Leave a lasting impression on your Soldiers and they will pass it on to the next troop.
Don't think because the Chain of Command told you to do something that you have to go that extra mile to make us miserable. Yes, you have obligations to keep us in check, but at least treat us like human beings not like a herd of cattle your trying to keep together. LISTEN to our needs, KNOW the signs, and HELP them. No matter how minor the issue may seem to you, for that Soldier its important.
Ok, off my soapbox for the moment. I'll be back so stand by......
*****Of course, I got lost in what I was trying to say here*****
The Soldiers dealing with docs who don't seem to care, and/or leaders who don't seem to understand whats going on, have avenues they can take to get what they need.
If your doc doesn't seem to want to help you, speak with your case manager OR the OMBUDSMAN to seek a different doctor. Some may not feel their case manager isn't helping them with this issue, and if that's the case, seek the assistance of the OMBUDSMAN at Darnall. Their job is to mediate between you and the medical professionals you are having conflict with. If you feel like your spinning your wheels and not really getting any help, utilize these individuals as your advocates. Don't just "deal with it", you have to stand up for yourself and to do it the right way, without blowing your top on these people, utilize these advocates to your advantage. So that you can get the necessary help you so desperately need.
Also, if you feel like your squad leader is not helping you or not listening to your needs, take it higher. Do your best to maintain control of your emotions but if you cannot, take a battle buddy with you who can speak for you when you begin to lose it. It is your right to use the open door policy no matter what stigma may go along with it. Its time we take care of ourselves, and not bend over and take it. We have to stand up for ourselves because we're not here just to take up space, we're here because we're injured and our leaders need to HEAR our pain and HELP us deal. Not just listen, nod their head and say "you'll get through this" No, actually listen and give counsel. I have alot of issues myself but when my Soldiers call me(yes, even though I'm not there anymore, they still call on me) I listen. I offer advice, I provide them information to much needed services or resources. That's what we are to do. Not just sit there, nod and then completely forget about the issue. How about checking on the Soldier and seeing how their doing, what can you do to help them, what do they need....do they need advice, do they just need someone to listen? What do they need? Don't ignore the needs of your Soldiers, because ignorance is not bliss to the effected person. Their pain is increased with every incidence of lack of caring from their leaders. Why do you think most of these Soldiers feel so isolated? Why do you think we feel so alone? Because it's like we're the only ones feeling this pain, and our leaders don't grasp it or simply don't care. And that, my friends, is why there are so many issues with Soldiers suffering from PTSD or other ailments....because it's like we've been left behind, our issues are ignored by the people who should be showing the most concern for us...our leaders.
I have been blessed with some of the best counselors the Army could provide. Some have not been so fortunate. Their doc either doesn't care one way or another about that Soldier or their completely blind to the Soldiers needs.
And I hear stories about Soldiers seeking help and being told their faking it, or they just need to get out of the Army. Ok.....if that's the case, what are you doing to prove their faking it and what are you doing to take care of their needs while you process them out of the Army?
Yes, there are Soldiers out there that milk the system. It happens, we've all seen the sick call rangers, and they piss us off...why? Because for those of us who are actually suffering from one ailment or another have an even harder battle of proving our issues because of these individuals. My first injury in the Army occurred in 1998. I tore the ligaments in both my feet. I sought treatment over and over and was treated like a complete dirtbag. Eventually, because of the lack of treatment, I ended up with a permanent condition. Thankfully, the docs in Korea saw the facts and did their best to deal with the issue. I was put on a P3 profile for my feet and I just dealt with the pain. It hasn't gone away, but I cope. I wasn't about to let them cut on my feet, could just see myself now with nerve damage or something lol. So, I wasn't about to let them cut on me.
But it took me forever to get the docs to see my issue. And it was because of Soldiers who went to sickcall with nothing wrong with them, just to avoid going to runs, and the docs were growing tired of people milking the sickcall. So, rather than being openminded when I went in, they immediately were on the offensive and treated me like shit. Not surprised though, now that I look back on it. Because I know what they've had to deal with. I've had a few Soldiers who did this, never really saw it until I was in a leadership position and noticed the trends.
Now, why am I talking about this? Because I see Soldiers suffering and some are suffering so badly that they have serious anger issues and they've gotten themselves into trouble so therefore because they've gotten into trouble their treated like complete dirtbags all the time. Of course, this only increases their anger issues and most often than not results in more trouble. How about we do our best to help the Soldier? Even if they have anger issues? Perhaps if they actually see that someone TRULY DOES CARE, they wouldn't be so angry and bitter all the time? Hmmm...what a concept.
Soldiers get mistreated or don't get treated at all when they seek help and it usually ends up permanentally scarring them for life. Because the Army used to be all about taking care of Soldiers. Nowadays its not like that. Don't get me wrong, some may see it as taking care of Soldiers, but I don't. There's a difference between taking care of a Soldier and babysitting them. Don't hover over them and watch their every more. But don't make it seem like your doing it as merely a requirement. Show genuine concern for the Soldiers needs. Actually listen to the Soldier, hear what they have to say and take what they say to heart. Don't take offense if their being blunt with you because their at their boiling point. Let them vent, and don't take action against them....I think thats where so many have gotten lost here.
Yes, discipline is very important in the military, however, your dealing with Soldiers who suffer from an injury and that injury includes anger issues for most if not all of us. So, knowing this, you shouldn't turn the tables on them when their venting their anger (that is unless they've become violent and even then it should be a case by case basis and before you take any such action against anyone, you need to send them to their doc first).
The reason Soldiers turn to their battle buddies to their left and right for comfort and counsel is because their leaders don't provide it. When that is our job as leaders. We are to be there for our Soldiers no matter what, no matter the time of day, no matter if we are on leave, they call on us, we should answer. There aren't many leaders left that still do this. Even if the Soldier messed up, as a leader we're to assist them through that as well. Provide them the necessary resources and services required to get past that. Help to rehabilitate them, don't banish them. And don't babysit. There's a difference between taking care of your Soldiers and babysitting them. Babysitting is a "job", taking care of Soldiers should not be. It should be a given. You don't have to watch a Soldiers every move, but know whats going on. No wonder Soldiers don't tell their leaders what their planning to do on the weekend, because their going to get the scripted speeches. How about having a get together with your Soldiers so that you can actually get to know them? Build comradery amongst your team? That's how Soldiers bond. And those bonds last a lifetime. The ones we are closest to are the ones we will still talk to when we 80 years old. The leaders who gave their all to their Soldiers are the ones those Soldiers will emulate for years to come, and they will pass their legacy on. The leaders who didn't give a rats ass about us are the ones we leave in the dust. Leave a lasting impression on your Soldiers and they will pass it on to the next troop.
Don't think because the Chain of Command told you to do something that you have to go that extra mile to make us miserable. Yes, you have obligations to keep us in check, but at least treat us like human beings not like a herd of cattle your trying to keep together. LISTEN to our needs, KNOW the signs, and HELP them. No matter how minor the issue may seem to you, for that Soldier its important.
Ok, off my soapbox for the moment. I'll be back so stand by......
*****Of course, I got lost in what I was trying to say here*****
The Soldiers dealing with docs who don't seem to care, and/or leaders who don't seem to understand whats going on, have avenues they can take to get what they need.
If your doc doesn't seem to want to help you, speak with your case manager OR the OMBUDSMAN to seek a different doctor. Some may not feel their case manager isn't helping them with this issue, and if that's the case, seek the assistance of the OMBUDSMAN at Darnall. Their job is to mediate between you and the medical professionals you are having conflict with. If you feel like your spinning your wheels and not really getting any help, utilize these individuals as your advocates. Don't just "deal with it", you have to stand up for yourself and to do it the right way, without blowing your top on these people, utilize these advocates to your advantage. So that you can get the necessary help you so desperately need.
Also, if you feel like your squad leader is not helping you or not listening to your needs, take it higher. Do your best to maintain control of your emotions but if you cannot, take a battle buddy with you who can speak for you when you begin to lose it. It is your right to use the open door policy no matter what stigma may go along with it. Its time we take care of ourselves, and not bend over and take it. We have to stand up for ourselves because we're not here just to take up space, we're here because we're injured and our leaders need to HEAR our pain and HELP us deal. Not just listen, nod their head and say "you'll get through this" No, actually listen and give counsel. I have alot of issues myself but when my Soldiers call me(yes, even though I'm not there anymore, they still call on me) I listen. I offer advice, I provide them information to much needed services or resources. That's what we are to do. Not just sit there, nod and then completely forget about the issue. How about checking on the Soldier and seeing how their doing, what can you do to help them, what do they need....do they need advice, do they just need someone to listen? What do they need? Don't ignore the needs of your Soldiers, because ignorance is not bliss to the effected person. Their pain is increased with every incidence of lack of caring from their leaders. Why do you think most of these Soldiers feel so isolated? Why do you think we feel so alone? Because it's like we're the only ones feeling this pain, and our leaders don't grasp it or simply don't care. And that, my friends, is why there are so many issues with Soldiers suffering from PTSD or other ailments....because it's like we've been left behind, our issues are ignored by the people who should be showing the most concern for us...our leaders.
Labels:
OIF/OEF Veterans,
PTSD
Saturday......
Well, today started with me jumping out of bed after another nightmare. Already forgot what it was, which is normal. I think my mind wipes it out immediately because it doesn't want to deal with it. But, despite the nightmare, this is day two of a new strategy my counselor suggested. My insomnia has really kicked my ass over the last 6 months. In the last two weeks it'd gotten much worse. It was like clock work, 2am I was up, covered in sweat and there was no going back to sleep. Well, my counselor suggested I stay up later and try to go to sleep at midnight. Of course, I'm medicated for sleep so, this means taking my meds much later. So I did what she suggested and managed to be able to sleep til 6 this time. Still woke up with the nightmare but at least I got 5 hours of sleep this time.
There's so many things that run through my brain everyday. So its hard for me to get my brain to settle down in order for me to sleep. I usually end up taking my meds and waiting about an hour for them to make me crosseyed before I can actually try to sleep. I've done everything the counselors and sleep study folks have recommended, I don't do anything in the bedroom except sleep, no tv, no music (except the biofeedback cd), its blacked out in there and the house is ubber quiet. My alarm clocks time is covered so I don't see it when I wake up at odd hours of the night. Usually when the insomnia's really bad, I'll get up and go sit in the living room, eventually end up falling back asleep on the couch.
Insomnia sucks. But, to some, it has an upside lol. You can get alot done in the middle of the night lol. My house has never been this clean lol.
Ok so its Saturday and I'm sitting here listening to the Killeen PD scanner (love listening to this, their not the brightest and some of these people in Killeen are just plain retarded lol). My dog, Kelsy, is laying down at my feet and the coffee pots brewing behind me. I'm thinking about home right now. See (and I'm sure to get yelled at for this but you know what, we can't avoid the topic and we have to get the thoughts and feelings and pain out someway), my father has stage 4 non-small cell lung cancer. This is a reoccurance. Over the course of the last few months, he's been in and out of the hospital with pneumonia. His lung capacity was cut down to practically nil due to the fluid build up. He would go get drained and then he could breathe a little better. The draining stopped being successful due to the fluids solidifying in his chest cavity. And he's not a candidate for surgery so this is the scariest time because he has difficulty breathing most of the day and wakes up in the middle of the night really struggling. While I was visiting, I didn't get to see him much, as he was bedridden. He's on oxygen 24/7. He's been very weak, unable to leave the house except for his appointments and that was a feat. See, his treatments were located over 3hrs away. So, he had to brave a car ride all the way to see the doc in HOPES that they chose to do chemo that day. With all the fluid build up, and the attempts to drain getting less and less successful, they were concerned that chemo was no longer an option. That's when I realized just how serious this is. I'm about to lose my dad. I try to remain strong, holding out hope that he is able to stay strong enough to get through these chemo treatments. Because it appears that the chemo is starting to work. After a few ER visits during my visit, the day I left he went back to the hospital. I was scared to death, I'm walking through the airport wanting to jump back on a plane to go right back to Michigan because I certainly didn't want to be sitting in Chicago pacing the airport when the time came.....if it came. I was scared it was coming. He has gone through so much, and I know the pain has really made him so weak. But, turns out, his chest pains were not what we feared and they took a look at the fluids in his lungs.....it started to clear. So by the time I made it back to Texas, I was happy--more elated than anything. The chemo was starting to work! Thank god. He just needs to hold on and make it through the chemo treatments and perhaps I'll have my father for a little while longer.
See, it breaks my heart knowing I'm so far away from everything. My mom is always so busy with the animal shelter and caring for my dad as well as the zoo she has at home, I don't know when she's able to sleep. She's constantly go go go and I feel so bad for her because I know she's overwhelmed. When I get the chance to visit, I'm usually at the shelter helping out and helping her at the house as best I can. She needs a break so bad, but there's no stopping her. Not that I blame her, if you sit down for one moment, all the worries come to the forefront of your mind and your overtaken by the emotions of all the stuff going on. So, I can certainly understand why she doesn't stop. In a way, I am alot like my mom. Rather than allowing myself idle time to let my brain focus on the trauma that has impacted me so badly, I find myself being OCD here at the house. I clean, and clean, and clean again even if the house is spotless. I find projects to do that keeps my mind going. Whatever I can do to not think about that which haunts me. Yet, once I stop it comes flooding back. And perhaps thats what makes this blog so important. Because in a way its an outlet so that I can get the thoughts out of my mind and perhaps put myself at ease a little? Yes and no.....it works but sometimes it floods my emotions. But, I've been so closed off when it comes to emotions that its like the flood gates are opened when I do let this stuff out. I guess its a therapeutic means to deal with the things that plague me. If you don't let it out, it overwhelms you, and eventually you crack and there's no stopping what comes out. And if you hold out long enough, when it does break lose, its an ugly scene. Either your angry and your violent towards others or your so overwhelmed by the emotions that your suicidal. No one can say they've never had ideations. I know I have gotten to the point where I wanted to knock people out for their stupidity because they would wear on my nerves to the point where I pictured myself punching their lights out. Thats when I knew I needed help. I'd come so far in my career, the last thing I needed to do was throw it all away because of anger.
See, PTSD isn't just flashbacks and anxiety attacks. It's also anger, irritability, memory loss, inability to concentrate, depression, loss of interest, loss of appetite (for me) and so many other variables. My fuse was VERY short. And it was starting to affect my Soldiers. They knew when it was a good day and when it was a bad day. And this depressed me because they didn't do anything to deserve such anger from me. Ok, maybe some of them did, but for the most part they didn't deserve it.
So, dealing with PTSD, we have to come to realize that it is an injury and we must seek help to get through it. Its not something we can just snap our fingers and it all magically goes away. Even if you try to push it to the farthest depths of your subconcious, it will come back to haunt you, as it has done for me many times. And when it returns, its usually 10 times worse than the previous times.
So don't wait to seek help. If you see yourself falling into that abyss, get help.
Ok.........more to come.
There's so many things that run through my brain everyday. So its hard for me to get my brain to settle down in order for me to sleep. I usually end up taking my meds and waiting about an hour for them to make me crosseyed before I can actually try to sleep. I've done everything the counselors and sleep study folks have recommended, I don't do anything in the bedroom except sleep, no tv, no music (except the biofeedback cd), its blacked out in there and the house is ubber quiet. My alarm clocks time is covered so I don't see it when I wake up at odd hours of the night. Usually when the insomnia's really bad, I'll get up and go sit in the living room, eventually end up falling back asleep on the couch.
Insomnia sucks. But, to some, it has an upside lol. You can get alot done in the middle of the night lol. My house has never been this clean lol.
Ok so its Saturday and I'm sitting here listening to the Killeen PD scanner (love listening to this, their not the brightest and some of these people in Killeen are just plain retarded lol). My dog, Kelsy, is laying down at my feet and the coffee pots brewing behind me. I'm thinking about home right now. See (and I'm sure to get yelled at for this but you know what, we can't avoid the topic and we have to get the thoughts and feelings and pain out someway), my father has stage 4 non-small cell lung cancer. This is a reoccurance. Over the course of the last few months, he's been in and out of the hospital with pneumonia. His lung capacity was cut down to practically nil due to the fluid build up. He would go get drained and then he could breathe a little better. The draining stopped being successful due to the fluids solidifying in his chest cavity. And he's not a candidate for surgery so this is the scariest time because he has difficulty breathing most of the day and wakes up in the middle of the night really struggling. While I was visiting, I didn't get to see him much, as he was bedridden. He's on oxygen 24/7. He's been very weak, unable to leave the house except for his appointments and that was a feat. See, his treatments were located over 3hrs away. So, he had to brave a car ride all the way to see the doc in HOPES that they chose to do chemo that day. With all the fluid build up, and the attempts to drain getting less and less successful, they were concerned that chemo was no longer an option. That's when I realized just how serious this is. I'm about to lose my dad. I try to remain strong, holding out hope that he is able to stay strong enough to get through these chemo treatments. Because it appears that the chemo is starting to work. After a few ER visits during my visit, the day I left he went back to the hospital. I was scared to death, I'm walking through the airport wanting to jump back on a plane to go right back to Michigan because I certainly didn't want to be sitting in Chicago pacing the airport when the time came.....if it came. I was scared it was coming. He has gone through so much, and I know the pain has really made him so weak. But, turns out, his chest pains were not what we feared and they took a look at the fluids in his lungs.....it started to clear. So by the time I made it back to Texas, I was happy--more elated than anything. The chemo was starting to work! Thank god. He just needs to hold on and make it through the chemo treatments and perhaps I'll have my father for a little while longer.
See, it breaks my heart knowing I'm so far away from everything. My mom is always so busy with the animal shelter and caring for my dad as well as the zoo she has at home, I don't know when she's able to sleep. She's constantly go go go and I feel so bad for her because I know she's overwhelmed. When I get the chance to visit, I'm usually at the shelter helping out and helping her at the house as best I can. She needs a break so bad, but there's no stopping her. Not that I blame her, if you sit down for one moment, all the worries come to the forefront of your mind and your overtaken by the emotions of all the stuff going on. So, I can certainly understand why she doesn't stop. In a way, I am alot like my mom. Rather than allowing myself idle time to let my brain focus on the trauma that has impacted me so badly, I find myself being OCD here at the house. I clean, and clean, and clean again even if the house is spotless. I find projects to do that keeps my mind going. Whatever I can do to not think about that which haunts me. Yet, once I stop it comes flooding back. And perhaps thats what makes this blog so important. Because in a way its an outlet so that I can get the thoughts out of my mind and perhaps put myself at ease a little? Yes and no.....it works but sometimes it floods my emotions. But, I've been so closed off when it comes to emotions that its like the flood gates are opened when I do let this stuff out. I guess its a therapeutic means to deal with the things that plague me. If you don't let it out, it overwhelms you, and eventually you crack and there's no stopping what comes out. And if you hold out long enough, when it does break lose, its an ugly scene. Either your angry and your violent towards others or your so overwhelmed by the emotions that your suicidal. No one can say they've never had ideations. I know I have gotten to the point where I wanted to knock people out for their stupidity because they would wear on my nerves to the point where I pictured myself punching their lights out. Thats when I knew I needed help. I'd come so far in my career, the last thing I needed to do was throw it all away because of anger.
See, PTSD isn't just flashbacks and anxiety attacks. It's also anger, irritability, memory loss, inability to concentrate, depression, loss of interest, loss of appetite (for me) and so many other variables. My fuse was VERY short. And it was starting to affect my Soldiers. They knew when it was a good day and when it was a bad day. And this depressed me because they didn't do anything to deserve such anger from me. Ok, maybe some of them did, but for the most part they didn't deserve it.
So, dealing with PTSD, we have to come to realize that it is an injury and we must seek help to get through it. Its not something we can just snap our fingers and it all magically goes away. Even if you try to push it to the farthest depths of your subconcious, it will come back to haunt you, as it has done for me many times. And when it returns, its usually 10 times worse than the previous times.
So don't wait to seek help. If you see yourself falling into that abyss, get help.
Ok.........more to come.
Labels:
OIF/OEF Veterans,
PTSD
Friday, June 18, 2010
The story continues......
I'm pretty much playing catch up.....or rather, I'm getting everyone up to speed to what got me to where I am today. So, the blog continues. This is very therapeutic actually...if you grow bored, move on to the next blog lol. Especially if you know me and therefore already know most of this stuff.
So, in March 2004 we're heading back to Kuwait. This story is going to make some of you laugh, others will just scratch your head. But its ok. Here goes....
I'm sitting in the center seat of an LMTV with no turret. In other words, if anything happened, I was pretty much a sitting duck. But, thankfully, not much did happen. Except when we drove through a city center and were weeding our way through traffic. The humvee in front of us was passing a tomato truck when you heard the loudest boom ever........amazingly none of our vehicles were hit. We hauled ass as the truck driver got out stomping the ground pissed because his rear axle is gone and there are tomatoes all over the road.....the passenger yells "THANKS!" as we fly past.
Did you laugh? I sure hope so. I cling to these stories because they help bring light to a very depressing few years.
Once we're home, I hit the highway and realize despite having not seen much of anything, I'm scared to death to drive on the roads. The barriers.....had to avoid them at all costs. Found myself driving white knuckled and dropping my speed to like 25mph driving to Cove. I figured this was merely temporary, and eventually I managed to deal alright so I didn't think so see anybody about it. But I had my moments, or rather "episodes" over the course of the last 7 years....I just chose to ignore them.
So the one year anniversary of DJ's death comes and I'm feeling pretty shitty. Then, a few weeks later, November 29th 2004, we're at PT when CW2 Evans, CW2 Gardner and SPC Brown depart for a VIP mission with some head honcho's from 4ID. Their headed to Corpus Christi (spelling?). We watch them fly over the PT field after leaving the helipad at 4ID headquarters, and that's the last time we would ever see them alive. They crashed in Waco. They asked for volunteers to help the recovery flight crew....I did not realize what that meant at the time. Carrying body bags to a refrigerator truck from the cabin of a blackhawk helicopter is a memory I never ever want to have, I want it gone. If I could erase it, I would. Especially knowing the people inside those bags.
Everyone watches in amazement when you see a Soldier at a funeral or a memorial with a rock hard face....wondering if they have a heart or if their just cold. We learn to turn our emotions off after trauma. And the more you heap trauma into our laps, the more closed off we become. We only speak with those who experienced what we experienced and we shut everyone else out. Most Soldiers feel their completely alone because they don't have anyone to talk to. We PCS, or like me everyone ELSE PCS's and we have all new faces around and we're not about to open up to any of them. So, we end up emotionally turned off to everything that surrounds us. We stay in that combat mode 24/7....double, triple check the locks, jump at the slightest sounds...we're hypervigilant to everything that is around us...we avoid trash on the roads, we are irritable, we're easily aggitated, and some begin self medicating. The stigma that was with mental health issues kept most of us old timers out of the doctors offices. That red flag would end our careers. I think that's one of the reasons I didn't seek help til just last year. Because I knew the stigma was there, I'd seen what it did to others careers. I love my job, so it was the last thing I wanted to do........but I had to seek help.
Most Soldiers, when they go home, the last thing they want to do is talk to their family about what they encountered. And yet, most push us to talk about it, which fuels anger because that's the last thing we want to think about.
My PTSD really didn't flare up to the point where I am now until this last October. My best friend, Craig, lost his wife to a battle with pneumonia. I was with him when she passed away, we were the only two in the room with her.....it awakened the demons that have been buried in my subconscious for years. I began suffering from insomnia, couldn't eat, or rather wouldn't, panic attacks, anxiety, my memory was shot, I was a Staff Sergeant holding an E7 position and I was dropping the ball left and right. I was falling apart. It took a great deal of courage to seek the help I so desperately needed, and I have no regrets....because if I hadn't, this blog wouldn't exist and I'd be yet another statistic they base their annual suicide prevention training off of.
Again, thanks for reading......I'm going to call it a night, I think I've pretty much got you up to speed on me....
So, in March 2004 we're heading back to Kuwait. This story is going to make some of you laugh, others will just scratch your head. But its ok. Here goes....
I'm sitting in the center seat of an LMTV with no turret. In other words, if anything happened, I was pretty much a sitting duck. But, thankfully, not much did happen. Except when we drove through a city center and were weeding our way through traffic. The humvee in front of us was passing a tomato truck when you heard the loudest boom ever........amazingly none of our vehicles were hit. We hauled ass as the truck driver got out stomping the ground pissed because his rear axle is gone and there are tomatoes all over the road.....the passenger yells "THANKS!" as we fly past.
Did you laugh? I sure hope so. I cling to these stories because they help bring light to a very depressing few years.
Once we're home, I hit the highway and realize despite having not seen much of anything, I'm scared to death to drive on the roads. The barriers.....had to avoid them at all costs. Found myself driving white knuckled and dropping my speed to like 25mph driving to Cove. I figured this was merely temporary, and eventually I managed to deal alright so I didn't think so see anybody about it. But I had my moments, or rather "episodes" over the course of the last 7 years....I just chose to ignore them.
So the one year anniversary of DJ's death comes and I'm feeling pretty shitty. Then, a few weeks later, November 29th 2004, we're at PT when CW2 Evans, CW2 Gardner and SPC Brown depart for a VIP mission with some head honcho's from 4ID. Their headed to Corpus Christi (spelling?). We watch them fly over the PT field after leaving the helipad at 4ID headquarters, and that's the last time we would ever see them alive. They crashed in Waco. They asked for volunteers to help the recovery flight crew....I did not realize what that meant at the time. Carrying body bags to a refrigerator truck from the cabin of a blackhawk helicopter is a memory I never ever want to have, I want it gone. If I could erase it, I would. Especially knowing the people inside those bags.
Everyone watches in amazement when you see a Soldier at a funeral or a memorial with a rock hard face....wondering if they have a heart or if their just cold. We learn to turn our emotions off after trauma. And the more you heap trauma into our laps, the more closed off we become. We only speak with those who experienced what we experienced and we shut everyone else out. Most Soldiers feel their completely alone because they don't have anyone to talk to. We PCS, or like me everyone ELSE PCS's and we have all new faces around and we're not about to open up to any of them. So, we end up emotionally turned off to everything that surrounds us. We stay in that combat mode 24/7....double, triple check the locks, jump at the slightest sounds...we're hypervigilant to everything that is around us...we avoid trash on the roads, we are irritable, we're easily aggitated, and some begin self medicating. The stigma that was with mental health issues kept most of us old timers out of the doctors offices. That red flag would end our careers. I think that's one of the reasons I didn't seek help til just last year. Because I knew the stigma was there, I'd seen what it did to others careers. I love my job, so it was the last thing I wanted to do........but I had to seek help.
Most Soldiers, when they go home, the last thing they want to do is talk to their family about what they encountered. And yet, most push us to talk about it, which fuels anger because that's the last thing we want to think about.
My PTSD really didn't flare up to the point where I am now until this last October. My best friend, Craig, lost his wife to a battle with pneumonia. I was with him when she passed away, we were the only two in the room with her.....it awakened the demons that have been buried in my subconscious for years. I began suffering from insomnia, couldn't eat, or rather wouldn't, panic attacks, anxiety, my memory was shot, I was a Staff Sergeant holding an E7 position and I was dropping the ball left and right. I was falling apart. It took a great deal of courage to seek the help I so desperately needed, and I have no regrets....because if I hadn't, this blog wouldn't exist and I'd be yet another statistic they base their annual suicide prevention training off of.
Again, thanks for reading......I'm going to call it a night, I think I've pretty much got you up to speed on me....
Labels:
OIF/OEF Veterans,
PTSD
Where it all begins.....
I come in from PT at Fort Campbell and my phone rings. Its my mom telling me to turn on the News. So I do and just then I saw a plane fly into the World Trade Center. HOLY SHIT! She tells me about the plane that hit just before and we talk for a few minutes then I say I gotta go. I knew what this meant. I grabbed my ruck and my lbe and hauled ass to the airfield. Didn't even shower that day. At Fort Campbell, we reacted fast even if it meant not going anywhere. The whole hangar was quiet and all you heard from the offices were radios playing news broadcasts of the beginning of a very scary journey.
At this time, I had a small circle of friends, DJ being one of my best friends. He was a young Soldier, brand new to the unit. He had his struggles, just as I had when I was a young dumb private lol. Late for work, alarm clock not really a very useful tool lol. So, my best friend Jenny and I took him under our wings and set him straight. By the time I PCS'd to Fort Hood, DJ was in a flight company and considered one of their better crewchiefs. A far cry from the young DJ we first met.
So, in August 2002 I psc'd to Fort Hood and was assigned to a section that I grew to love yet hate...if that makes sense. Remember how I mentioned NCO's who sat behind a desk and directed work from there? I had one of those guys, and what really fueled my fire was the fact that he and I were in AIT together. He should have known more than he portrayed. But the junior enlisted folks in the section became some of my closest friends. Especially once we deployed for the first time together in March 2003. During the initial push, we convoyed north to Tikrit. Not really encountering much more than a farmer killing his sheep and a chaplain getting tackled by his assistant---I'll save this story for later. In other words, the convoy north, we were truly blessed. TRULY.
I will never forget when my old unit from Fort Campbell came to support our mission in Tikrit. It was so nice to see old, familiar faces. I spent alot of time hanging out with the old crewdogs, even had choice words with one of the pilots for doing shady stuff lol. Long story short; he stripped a component of parts and turned the shell in....had to go back to him and say "Sir, come on now, I know I taught you better than that lol" Yet another story for another day.
It was early November and we were preparing for a mission. One of our aircraft that was scheduled to fly ended up broke so we had to call on my old unit to pick up that spot in the flight. I will never forget that day so long as I live. Even though I had no control over the aircraft breaking, I still hold onto a guilt......they were out on the mission and getting ready to head back. The aircraft that replaced ours was hit by an RPG and went down in the river. CW3 Kyran E. Kennedy, CPT Benedict J. Smith, SGT Scott C. Rose, SSG Paul M. Neff II lost their lives that day,November 7th 2003. Scott never got the chance to see his baby girl. I know I had no control over this but I still harbored the guilt because I could see the pain in all my friends faces. I could hear the anger and the hurt, and I could see the blame being placed on us. My unit didn't want me to go over there and be with my old unit. They wanted to "give them their space" I told them flat out, their my unit, I need MY space..and right now its with them.
Eventually word spread to the Brigade Commander that I was close to all these guys. So he allowed me to go up to Mosul for the Memorial. While I was there, I attempted to locate DJ but unfortunately, he was out on a mission. I never did get to see him. He died along with 16 other people in a midair collision over Mosul on November 15th 2003. I have so much regret here because I never did get a chance to see him and give him one last hug. And you know, I never really understood why Stars and Stripes felt the need to publish the photo of them hoisting the remains of his helicopter off the top of the building.......that's the last memory I have of DJ. His destroyed helicopter being removed from the rooftops of Mosul. DJ was truly a brother to me, I loved him with all my heart and soul and to this day I cannot let go of the fact that I never got to say goodbye....even though I didn't know I needed to.....I wanted so badly to see him that day. Something told me to try to find him. Yet I never was able.
Everyone is haunted by their own scars of war. These two are the ones that eat at me the most. So I figured, their the ones I should start this whole thing off with. Thanks for reading....more to follow.
RIP:
CW2 Scott A. Saboe [P]
2LT Jeremy L. Wolfe [P]
SPC Jeremiah J. DiGiovanni [CE] "DJ"
SPC Ryan T. Baker [C]
SPC William D. Dusenbery [C]
SGT John W. Russell
WO1 Erik C. Kesterson [P]
SGT Warren S. Hansen [C]
CPT Pierre E. Piche
SGT Michael D. Acklin II
SFC Kelly Bolor
PFC Sheldon R. Hawk Eagle
PFC Richard W. Hafer
PFC Damian L. Heidelberg
SPC John R. Sullivan
SPC Eugene A. Uhl III
PFC Joey D. Whitener
And all of our fallen comrades......they live within us.
At this time, I had a small circle of friends, DJ being one of my best friends. He was a young Soldier, brand new to the unit. He had his struggles, just as I had when I was a young dumb private lol. Late for work, alarm clock not really a very useful tool lol. So, my best friend Jenny and I took him under our wings and set him straight. By the time I PCS'd to Fort Hood, DJ was in a flight company and considered one of their better crewchiefs. A far cry from the young DJ we first met.
So, in August 2002 I psc'd to Fort Hood and was assigned to a section that I grew to love yet hate...if that makes sense. Remember how I mentioned NCO's who sat behind a desk and directed work from there? I had one of those guys, and what really fueled my fire was the fact that he and I were in AIT together. He should have known more than he portrayed. But the junior enlisted folks in the section became some of my closest friends. Especially once we deployed for the first time together in March 2003. During the initial push, we convoyed north to Tikrit. Not really encountering much more than a farmer killing his sheep and a chaplain getting tackled by his assistant---I'll save this story for later. In other words, the convoy north, we were truly blessed. TRULY.
I will never forget when my old unit from Fort Campbell came to support our mission in Tikrit. It was so nice to see old, familiar faces. I spent alot of time hanging out with the old crewdogs, even had choice words with one of the pilots for doing shady stuff lol. Long story short; he stripped a component of parts and turned the shell in....had to go back to him and say "Sir, come on now, I know I taught you better than that lol" Yet another story for another day.
It was early November and we were preparing for a mission. One of our aircraft that was scheduled to fly ended up broke so we had to call on my old unit to pick up that spot in the flight. I will never forget that day so long as I live. Even though I had no control over the aircraft breaking, I still hold onto a guilt......they were out on the mission and getting ready to head back. The aircraft that replaced ours was hit by an RPG and went down in the river. CW3 Kyran E. Kennedy, CPT Benedict J. Smith, SGT Scott C. Rose, SSG Paul M. Neff II lost their lives that day,November 7th 2003. Scott never got the chance to see his baby girl. I know I had no control over this but I still harbored the guilt because I could see the pain in all my friends faces. I could hear the anger and the hurt, and I could see the blame being placed on us. My unit didn't want me to go over there and be with my old unit. They wanted to "give them their space" I told them flat out, their my unit, I need MY space..and right now its with them.
Eventually word spread to the Brigade Commander that I was close to all these guys. So he allowed me to go up to Mosul for the Memorial. While I was there, I attempted to locate DJ but unfortunately, he was out on a mission. I never did get to see him. He died along with 16 other people in a midair collision over Mosul on November 15th 2003. I have so much regret here because I never did get a chance to see him and give him one last hug. And you know, I never really understood why Stars and Stripes felt the need to publish the photo of them hoisting the remains of his helicopter off the top of the building.......that's the last memory I have of DJ. His destroyed helicopter being removed from the rooftops of Mosul. DJ was truly a brother to me, I loved him with all my heart and soul and to this day I cannot let go of the fact that I never got to say goodbye....even though I didn't know I needed to.....I wanted so badly to see him that day. Something told me to try to find him. Yet I never was able.
Everyone is haunted by their own scars of war. These two are the ones that eat at me the most. So I figured, their the ones I should start this whole thing off with. Thanks for reading....more to follow.
RIP:
CW2 Scott A. Saboe [P]
2LT Jeremy L. Wolfe [P]
SPC Jeremiah J. DiGiovanni [CE] "DJ"
SPC Ryan T. Baker [C]
SPC William D. Dusenbery [C]
SGT John W. Russell
WO1 Erik C. Kesterson [P]
SGT Warren S. Hansen [C]
CPT Pierre E. Piche
SGT Michael D. Acklin II
SFC Kelly Bolor
PFC Sheldon R. Hawk Eagle
PFC Richard W. Hafer
PFC Damian L. Heidelberg
SPC John R. Sullivan
SPC Eugene A. Uhl III
PFC Joey D. Whitener
And all of our fallen comrades......they live within us.
Labels:
OIF/OEF Veterans,
PTSD
My introduction
I am a Combat Veteran, served 3 tours to Iraq, starting in 2003 during the initial wave. I am Aviation, therefore, I certainly did not kick in doors and only did a handful of convoys. However, my combat experience was so traumatic to ME that it left scars from 2003 that still effect me to this day. I have come to realize after much treatment that there truly is no cure for that which we battle every day. All we can do is cling to those closest to us, those who have dealt with what we have, who can relate. We only have each other, we cannot rely on those who have never experienced the pain, the loss and the constant reminder of what we had endured.
Combat Veterans, no matter what their jobs may have been, see things no average American could imagine. The mortars, the helicopter crashes, the blown up vehicles, the guilt.......the night sweats 7 years later......the panic attacks simply driving down the highway. Walking through the mall and all of a sudden finding yourself back on the battlefield. No one understands this like a PTSD sufferer.
I have gone through extensive treatment, at the time hoping I would be able to return to the fight. I later found that this was not an option for me. And this reason is two fold. Not simply because of my injuries (yes, despite what many think, PTSD is an INJURY!), but also because of the direction the Army has gone.
I came into the Army in 1996 when yelling and cussing at Soldiers was normal. I expected this, since my father was in the Army as well in the early 70's. I actually expected my Drill Sergeants to punch me, cuz they did that to my dad (or at least thats the story he told me lol). But anyways, thats how I grew up in the Army. I learned early on that I wanted to be very proficient in my MOS (Military Occupational Specialty for you non-Army folks) and become an excellent leader BEFORE I sought promotion. Simply because I had leaders who directed work from behind a desk and I found that highly disturbing. So, unlike todays Army, I did not seek promotion to Sergeant until I felt I was ready, not when someone else thought I should go (cuz they don't care if your ready now, they just care about sending a body to the board). In other words, I did not receive my E-5 (Sergeant) until 2005, 9 years after enlisting. By then I was highly proficient in my MOS and had been leading and training Soldiers since 2003 (Iraq/OIF 1). By 2008 I was promoted to E-6 (Staff Sergeant) and placed in charge of 15 troops. All of whom I cherish, even when they did something stupid.
I led with an iron fist when needed but for the most part, I let them do their thing so long as they did the right thing. I didn't treat them like children unless I had to...unlike how the Army is being operated by most nowadays. I fought FOR the Soldiers, not against them. After all, whose going to work harder for you? The ones you treat with respect and fight battles for or the ones you treat like a child from the start without even giving them a chance to prove themselves? I already know the answer to that question, however, it's like I'm one of the few remaining individuals who truly know the answer.
It broke my heart when I had to step back and hand my section over to another leader. 15 brilliant Soldiers in the hands of an individual who doesn't know the job. Not his fault, he's a completely different MOS. But that is the only option they had.
I have been in WTU since mid May. I'm only just now getting a hang of it and it's hard to imagine doing this every day for over a year. I am thankful my MEB has already been started however, I feel for those who lie in wait and having to deal with some of the worst babysitting I have ever experienced in the military. It's one thing to want to take care of Soldiers, its a whole different thing to treat us like we're all screw ups.
Prime example: I am a Staff Sergeant from the old days. I will NEVER ask a Soldier to do something I would not do. Therefore, if the Soldiers of WTU are told to clean vacant barracks then I'll be right there with them. However, I raise one question: What is WTU for? Warrior Transition Unit. The purpose is two-fold: 1. Open up our slot in our old unit for a new soldier and 2. focusing on our medical treatments; whatever they may be. So, why are Soldiers who are in a Medical Hold Company (yes, thats what it used to be called back in the day) doing details such as picking weeds and cleaning barracks that no one lives in? For one thing, WTU falls under Darnall. Darnall contract their weed eating and grass cutting to civilians. Hello! Get their asses over to WTU so these Soldiers don't have to do this bullshit. And cleaning a barracks building that is completely vacant? Are you serious? No one lives in the damn building so why the hell are these Soldiers cleaning it? Just two things I've noticed in my very short time here. If I were Cadre, I would have said something, but I am not. However, believe you me, I am waiting for that scrimmage to come....they will be hearing my thoughts on this.
In no way do I wish to tell the Cadre of WTU how to run things, however, I can certainly make suggestions...after all isn't that what the scrimmage is all about? More like an AAR (After Action Review) let them know whats going well, whats going bad, what they can improve, what they can take away? Oh yeah, weeds.....hand that shit off to Darnall.
To the Soldiers who feel alienated at the WTU due to a multitude of issues, lets not forget, we always have one another. I rely not on my leaders for the help and guidance to get through things such as this, but on those closest to me who understand my pain. My battles to my left and right who have seen War and continue to be haunted by it. It is all we have.
Combat Veterans, no matter what their jobs may have been, see things no average American could imagine. The mortars, the helicopter crashes, the blown up vehicles, the guilt.......the night sweats 7 years later......the panic attacks simply driving down the highway. Walking through the mall and all of a sudden finding yourself back on the battlefield. No one understands this like a PTSD sufferer.
I have gone through extensive treatment, at the time hoping I would be able to return to the fight. I later found that this was not an option for me. And this reason is two fold. Not simply because of my injuries (yes, despite what many think, PTSD is an INJURY!), but also because of the direction the Army has gone.
I came into the Army in 1996 when yelling and cussing at Soldiers was normal. I expected this, since my father was in the Army as well in the early 70's. I actually expected my Drill Sergeants to punch me, cuz they did that to my dad (or at least thats the story he told me lol). But anyways, thats how I grew up in the Army. I learned early on that I wanted to be very proficient in my MOS (Military Occupational Specialty for you non-Army folks) and become an excellent leader BEFORE I sought promotion. Simply because I had leaders who directed work from behind a desk and I found that highly disturbing. So, unlike todays Army, I did not seek promotion to Sergeant until I felt I was ready, not when someone else thought I should go (cuz they don't care if your ready now, they just care about sending a body to the board). In other words, I did not receive my E-5 (Sergeant) until 2005, 9 years after enlisting. By then I was highly proficient in my MOS and had been leading and training Soldiers since 2003 (Iraq/OIF 1). By 2008 I was promoted to E-6 (Staff Sergeant) and placed in charge of 15 troops. All of whom I cherish, even when they did something stupid.
I led with an iron fist when needed but for the most part, I let them do their thing so long as they did the right thing. I didn't treat them like children unless I had to...unlike how the Army is being operated by most nowadays. I fought FOR the Soldiers, not against them. After all, whose going to work harder for you? The ones you treat with respect and fight battles for or the ones you treat like a child from the start without even giving them a chance to prove themselves? I already know the answer to that question, however, it's like I'm one of the few remaining individuals who truly know the answer.
It broke my heart when I had to step back and hand my section over to another leader. 15 brilliant Soldiers in the hands of an individual who doesn't know the job. Not his fault, he's a completely different MOS. But that is the only option they had.
I have been in WTU since mid May. I'm only just now getting a hang of it and it's hard to imagine doing this every day for over a year. I am thankful my MEB has already been started however, I feel for those who lie in wait and having to deal with some of the worst babysitting I have ever experienced in the military. It's one thing to want to take care of Soldiers, its a whole different thing to treat us like we're all screw ups.
Prime example: I am a Staff Sergeant from the old days. I will NEVER ask a Soldier to do something I would not do. Therefore, if the Soldiers of WTU are told to clean vacant barracks then I'll be right there with them. However, I raise one question: What is WTU for? Warrior Transition Unit. The purpose is two-fold: 1. Open up our slot in our old unit for a new soldier and 2. focusing on our medical treatments; whatever they may be. So, why are Soldiers who are in a Medical Hold Company (yes, thats what it used to be called back in the day) doing details such as picking weeds and cleaning barracks that no one lives in? For one thing, WTU falls under Darnall. Darnall contract their weed eating and grass cutting to civilians. Hello! Get their asses over to WTU so these Soldiers don't have to do this bullshit. And cleaning a barracks building that is completely vacant? Are you serious? No one lives in the damn building so why the hell are these Soldiers cleaning it? Just two things I've noticed in my very short time here. If I were Cadre, I would have said something, but I am not. However, believe you me, I am waiting for that scrimmage to come....they will be hearing my thoughts on this.
In no way do I wish to tell the Cadre of WTU how to run things, however, I can certainly make suggestions...after all isn't that what the scrimmage is all about? More like an AAR (After Action Review) let them know whats going well, whats going bad, what they can improve, what they can take away? Oh yeah, weeds.....hand that shit off to Darnall.
To the Soldiers who feel alienated at the WTU due to a multitude of issues, lets not forget, we always have one another. I rely not on my leaders for the help and guidance to get through things such as this, but on those closest to me who understand my pain. My battles to my left and right who have seen War and continue to be haunted by it. It is all we have.
Labels:
Introductions,
OIF/OEF Veterans,
PTSD
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