It's 2010, and you're 18 years old. You graduate High School in Texas without honors but with plenty of potential. You have the ambition to go to college, but you are struggling with paying for a four-year degree. You are from a working-class family, and the thought of student loans intimidate and confuses you.
You ultimately decide to join the Military to pay for an education. Your older brother enlisted in the Marine Corps four years ago and has made the family so proud. You talk to a local recruiter and decide to...
- enlist in the [[Marine Corps]].
- enlist in the [[Air Force]].
Boot Camp was the longest 13 weeks of your life, you seriously contemplated quitting, but you managed to push through the pain.
Your family comes to see you march in the graduation parade in San Diego, California. Your parents are beaming with pride, similar to when they watched your older brother march in the same parade four years ago.
After Bootcamp, comes another four-week training; combat training. Four more weeks in California doesn't seem so bad. You complete the course and prepare to be permanently stationed at your first duty station.
You are selected for [[Infantry]]
Eight weeks of training in San Antonio, Texas, was no easy feat; however, you meet all the requirements for graduation and are excited to see your family at the parade deck.
The base commander shakes your hand, hands you the traditional airman's coin to mark the occasion of becoming an airman in United States Air force, and salutes you.
You embrace your family and disclose that you have been selected to be an aircrew flight equipment technician. The job requires six more weeks of technical training in [[Wichita Falls, Texas]].
The job you have been selected for may have sounded glamorous on paper, but after six weeks of training, you realize that you are not going to be content with doing this job for another four years.
You remember that you only joined the military for the educational benefits in the first place. So what? If you don't like your job, it's only temporary!
Technical training consists of attending class regularly, routine dorm inspections, and meeting with your friends after class.
The young airman on base partake in frequent drinking on the weekends. Drinking intrigues you, but you're only 19, and it's not worth underage drinking and getting kicked out of the Air Force
You receive notice that your first duty station will be in [[Okinawa, Japan]].
You tell your family the exciting news, but they are saddened to be separated by an ocean from their youngest child.
You tell your family, "Two years will fly by like that! I'll call you every week!"
This promise is a bald-faced lie; you just don't know it yet.This place is AMAZING! Your frustrations with your mediocre job wash away as you sit on the beach in the warm Okinawa sun.
You meet several new friends, and even begin dating a cute young co-worker named Leslie.
When you're not at work doing the routine 9-5, you hang out with your girlfriend, snorkel in the pacific ocean, or explore the island.
"I shouldn't waste my time with school right now; I should enjoy Okinawa while I'm still here." You tell yourself this frequently, and it makes you feel a little better about putting your dreams on hold.
The legal drinking age in Japan is twenty, and several of your friends are over the legal age for purchasing alcohol.
You have never drunk before, but after constant peer pressure to drink with your friends, you decide to try alcohol for the first time.
You drink a [[beer]].
You take a shot of [[whiskey]].Surprise surprise, MORE training. You are getting sick and tired of the long hours, the endless physical exercise, and the limited freedoms.
You finish Infantry training and finally report to your first duty station, [[Ft. Leonard Wood, Missouri]].
You are less than enthused about being stationed in the middle of nowhere, but what can you do? You don't call the shots anymore, "Uncle Sam does." You hate that motto, but it's true.
"What a dump this place is."
You begrudgingly report to work six days a week for more instruction, criticism from your supervisors, and more grueling physical training.
You remind yourself of why you are here. Things might be tough now, but soon you will get into a routine and have more free time to start online courses.
After months of the same thing every day, there is FINALLY some good news! Your entire unit is tasked to deploy to Iraq's frontlines in support of [[Operation Enduring Freedom]].
"Thank God!" You exclaim. You cannot wait to put all of your training to use and come back to the United States in six months as a war hero.
You consider taking online courses while on deployment. Several co-workers have expressed that they take a couple of classes each time they are in the desert. "There isn't anything better to do." that's one of their favorite phrases."Ugh! This is beer?!"
You hate the taste of it and decide to...
- try the shot of [[whiskey]]."The burn!" Your throat feels like it is on fire after that stiff shot of Jameson Irish Whiskey.
You like the taste of it, and you appreciate the "buzz" that lingers from the 1oz. Pour.
You're a little young and could get into serious trouble for underage drinking, but you decide to risk it.
The [[military]] culture embraces drinking alcohol; You can drink in secret now and then with your friends until you turn twenty, what's the harm?Time flys by when you're having fun! That's the expression anyways. You have been on the Island for over a year now.
Your squadron leadership informs everyone that they will be deploying three aircrew flight equipment technicians to Iraq to support Operation Enduring Freedom.
You have been selected as one of the three airman, and are told it is an honor and a privilege to be selected for deployment at your rank.
You are scared but anxious for a change of scenery.
You and your girlfriend broke up a few weeks ago; she kept complaining about your drinking habits. You never saw any harm in drinking every weekend. What else am I supposed to be filling my time with?" You caught yourself using that excuse quite often these days.
You will be deployed for six months, and are only two weeks away from the ship out date.
Your friends plan a going-away party for you and the other two deploying personnel. You all plan on doing a pub crawl to your favorite bars and hangouts around the shore.
Your pointless job, the stress of being separated from your family, the military's bureaucracy, even the fear of deployment, nothing seems to matter when you're drinking.
Your friends have to remind you that there is a new curfew in effect and that you all have to be back on base by midnight.
"No problem!" you proclaim, and the night of [[drinking]] commences. Your going away party was fun, but you had a little too much fun. You took too many shots, blacked out, and woke up in an alley outside the bar. Your "friends" had left you behind.
You reported to base after curfew intoxicated, placed into the temporary holding facility by base authorities, and had your supervisors notified of your actions.
The curfew in place was not just a suggestion; you broke a General order. Your squadron decides to severely reprimand you by demoting you, kicking you off the deployment, and sentencing you to extra duty for the remainder of your stay on the island.
You are mandated to attend the alcohol and drug abuse prevention and treatment program.
You cannot even distract yourself with classes; The Air Force doesn't allow personnel with a blemish on their record to receive educational benefits for an entire year.
You don't socialize with anybody outside of work anymore. Your weekends, once filled with adventure and fun, now consist of reporting to work. The glaring eyes and the shrewd comments from your peers make you feel like you are all alone in a foreign country.
You fall into a depressed state, and can hardly wait to report to your next duty station at[[McChord Air Force Base, Washington]].
Surely things will be better there... "I need things to be better."
The deployment is exactly how you expected it to be hot, sandy, and tiresome. The good news is that you are deployed with several of your closest friends, including your best friend, Juan.
You manage to keep in close contact with your relatives in Texas through letters and the occasional Skype call.
Things have been pretty low key in Iraq for four months now. There haven't been any exciting events other than the base getting bombed by enemy personnel (no injuries), and clearing out a field of IED's (improvised explosive devices).
You decide to take a couple of online courses, Western Civilization and Introduction to Algebra. You are a little rusty in math.
During the platoon's daily patrols of the area, you and Juan frequently talk about home, your families, and the first things you're going to do once you return to the United States. "Only two more months, brother," Juan says to you with a smile as wide as the Iraq desert.
Schedule:
Mon- Sun: Breakfast 0630-0700, Gym 0700-0900, Patrol 0930-1230, Lunch 1230-1300, Patrol 1300-1800, Dinner 1800-1830, Recreation 1830-2200, Sleep 2200-0630
One day one a routine call, your whole unit is ambushed by an enemy militia five miles outside of base. You are shot three times, two in the left leg and one in the left arm. You manage to [[survive]] the encounter; however, four of your team members, including Juan, are killed in action.
The stink of your disgraceful past has followed you all the way to Washington.
Your new unit reviewed your records and decided to extend your extra duty; they call it "on the job training" to avoid any claim of double jeopardy.
Your promotion is denied, another year of grunt work, grunt pay, and grunt responsibilities.
Because you were denied a promotion, you are forced to live in the on-base barracks, and can't afford to fly home to see your family.
You miss Texas terribly. The only people who treat you with respect and dignity anymore are your family, who live over 2,000 miles away.
You hate your new squadron. You hate your "friends" for backstabbing you in Okinawa which derailed your military career, and you hate yourself for making such a stupid decision to enlist in the military.
Surely circumstances would be different if you had never left Texas. All you wanted to do was go to college, and now you can't stop thinking about all of the bad in your life.
You sit alone in your barracks day after day, wondering what would have transpired if you had never gone out drinking that one fateful evening.
You wonder what life would have been like if you had enlisted in the [[Marine Corps]] instead of the Air Force.
You decide that if you have to wear the uniform day after day, you might as well do something to distract yourself.
You start [[drinking|alcohol]] again.
The irony that alcohol has caused the strain in your life is lost on you; you just don't care anymore.
You survived the enemy ambush, but you wish you hadn't.
You are filled with grief from the loss of your team members and something new...fear.
Fear consumes you every time you put on the uniform now. You despise going out on patrol; it just won't be the same without Juan there to distract you. You regret ever enlisting into the Marine Corps.
You can't focus on anything else except going home; you drop your online courses and count the days until you head back to the United States.
Your tour in Iraq ends, and you report back to the Ft. Leonard Wood, where you receive a Purple Heart and a Bronze Star for valor in combat.
Nothing is the same anymore. You jump at any loud sound; you see Juan's face everywhere you look, and you can't even seem to hold a weapon without shaking.
You wonder what life would have been like if you had enlisted in the [[Air Force]] instead.
To cope with all of the overwhelming emotions you are feeling, you turn to [[alcohol]].Why am I alive? Why am I here in this godforsaken state? What's my purpose? Why can't I break free from these thoughts of suicide? Why do I need to drink every day to cope with my grief? Why the hell did I ever join the Military?
Routine:
drink
work
drink
work
drink
work
drink
work
drink
work
drink
drink
drink
drink
"[[help me]]."
Your family, your co-workers, and some concerned supervisors all recommend you speak to a mental health counselor.
After much deliberation, you decide that speaking with a licensed professional might be a good idea.
The doctor hears your story, recognizes your coping mechanisms, and recommends you take prescription drugs to counteract your chemical imbalance. The doctor strongly and urges you to continue counseling sessions for the foreseeable future.
"Prescription drugs, how shameful".......
You pray to start feeling better
You pray to start feeling like yourself
You pray to start [[feeling]] again.....Another year is in the books.
You are no longer taking medication; however, you still attend counseling every other week. Soon you will be visiting your counselor only once a month.
You feel like you're finally in a good place, [[she]] has a lot to do with your progress."She" is not your counselor, "she" is your girlfriend.
Her name is Alexandra.
You met her online (just like most people do nowadays).
Alexandra is a beautiful person. Like you, she is in the military and is working through her own issues. Alexandra is a victim of sexual assault.
You and Alexandra found each other at the perfect time in your lives. You don't pity her for her past, and she doesn't judge you on yours.
Together you two are perfect for one another. Like yin and yang, neither of you are complete without the other.
Alexandra has been the light you so desperately searched for, and you have been her saving grace as she struggled with how to trust and love again.
You two tell each other everything, even about your dreams. Alexandra wants to be a social worker and help victims with similar traumatic experiences. You tell her you want to be a counselor and help kids make educated decisions about their futures (something you never had). Alexandra encourages you to take online college courses, claiming that "you will never be in the profession you desire without an education."
You haven't seriously thought of investing in your education for some time now. You are just feeling like yourself again, and fear that the added stress will hinder your progress.
The truth is you know she's right, but you make up any excuse you can to convince her that you don't have the time to take courses.
She frowns at this response but lets it [[go]].
You two stick together, and in a blink...four years pass you by. You and Alexandra get married, have a baby boy, and purchase a home.
Because you thought you had no other viable job opportunities outside of the Military, you chose to reenlist for another tour of duty.
You watch as Alexandra finishes her graduate degree, separates the Military, and land a social worker position she loves.
Meanwhile, you still report to your squadron, stuck in the rut of the day to day responsibilities.
Life continues, and nothing changes in your world for another two years. The same job, same faces, same responsibilities, same lack of motivation to do something else with your life...Anything else.
It has now been seven years since you first raised your right hand and recited the oath to serve in the MilitaryMilitary with honor and dignity. You have one year left in the service before you have to decide to reenlist for a third tour or leave the MilitaryMilitary for good.
Your military career has been stressful, uncertain, and rocky, and you fear what awaits you in the real world after you leave the service.
You have few transferable skills, no [[education]], and zero prospects, and you feel like the responsible thing to do to support your family is to stick with a sure thing.
You plan on reenlisting, and you tell your wife the news.You tell her as calmly as you can that you plan on signing up for another tour of duty. You don't even make it through two sentences of your rehearsed speech before Alexandra interrupts you.
Your wife knows you like the back of her hand. Alexandra realizes that signing up for another tour is the safe option, but it's not the right one.
"You have to take hold of your life; you can't expect life to be handed to you. I know reenlisting is not what you want to do; you're just too afraid to take a leap of faith." Alexandra tells you.
You respond with anger. You question how your wife can meet you with such brutal honesty when you have your family's best interest at heart.
You respond with...
- drinking an [[alcoholic beverage]]
- applying for [[college]]Alexandra is right. You are afraid. By this point, the Military is all you know, and as much as you hate it, you have become institutionalized.
You then reflect back on yourself at 18 years old.
Education... that's precisely why you enlisted in the Military in the first place.
You endured the trials and tribulations over the past seven years because you wanted to go to college and couldn't afford it.
Somewhere along the way, you lost sight of what was important to you, but it's never too late to make a change. Your past doesn't have to define your future.
You decide to invest in your education seriously and to invest in yourself.
You apply for college.
You get accepted.
You make a declaration to yourself and your family that you will pursue your dream and make a living doing something you [[love]].
"Things won't be easy financially," you warn them, "but the effort will be worth it in the long while."You find calmness and comfort from the buzz of the alcohol, but the feeling is only temporary.
You realize that you can't keep subduing yourself with liquor, you eventually have to move on from the past and make strides for the future. [[future|college]]The year comes to a close, and you separate the military once and for all and become a full-time student.
You, Alexandra, and your son have never been happier.
Routine:
Class
Work
Study
Class
Work
Study
Class
Work
Study
Four years pass.
You are now a counselor for secondary education. Since day one at your new job, your mission has been to mentor youth who are struggling with academics, managing stress, and figuring out what to do with their future. You educate teenagers on how to pay for college, get into a skilled trade, and the realities of the military life.
You sometimes sit and wonder how differently your life could have been if you had never joined the [[military|Back]]. Then you realize that the past has made you who you are today.
“There are times in our lives when we have to realize our past is precisely what it is, and we cannot change it. But we can change the story we tell ourselves about it, and by doing that, we can change the future.”
― Eleanor Brown