September 5, 2010 § Leave a comment

As I sit in my therapist’s (yes, i see one) office, I fall back into my own personal hell again and again time after time. Old issues that may never have a resolution are hashed through. I only hope I can make them as if an old scar that has faded with time. But as of now they are old scars opened again and again by myself throughout life and only made worse.

Hot tears are pouring off my face, and here in this place I am exposed. Every bit of hate, anger, love, devastation, disappointment, and even joy is shared with a woman who sees more in me and believes more in me than I can do for myself. I am in my mid twenties, fresh out the corps and went through hell to get out.

The first time she saw me, I’ll call her Anna, she insisted on more therapy. I agreed, not knowing how deep we’d get. I might’ve said no. But I saw her for the first time to tell my story of just trying to get out of my beloved corps. I really do still love it, but I really couldn’t do it anymore the way it had been done. I tried to stay in, in a completely different field but the requirements to get in couldn’t be met as an emergency happened as I was preparing to apply for this other field.

My story of getting out I’m sure is very similar to many getting out, mine only was something I could fight. See when women are only about 7% of the Marine Corps, we kind of learn to keep quiet to be accepted. Some truly are treated right and fairly, but many aren’t and work twice as hard, to be treated half as good. And the sad thing is that is one of my former Gunny’s quotes. He’s out now, but he felt it was unfair and did the best he could to help my situation.

See I had about two months left in the Corps and was being sent away for six weeks. Not an issue except I still needed to get out, and to get out I had to take a weeks worth of classes mandated by Congress to actually get signed off by my unit CO to get out of the corps. And that little piece of paper the CO signs goes to a place called IPAC who requires another sheet of paper that proves you went to class. And IPAC handles getting a person payed their extra leave days and gives them their final piece of paper that allows that person to leave and be free of the military. So I am in a crappy spot without class and a few hundred miles away being sent back to my unit from traveling two days after I left because a Master Sergeant said.

Lets back up a bit. I asked for these classes. I asked not to go on this stupid trip in the first place. Then I walked up to my Staff Sergeant every week asking to go to this class. The Gunny I had knew that I was on my way out. Heck I can be more honest here, that Gunny was a good friend of mine. I called him when relatives died, when I was just bored and wanted a human to talk to and when work got stupid. But I never asked him to intervene on my behalf because I never wanted to take advantage of the friendship in a bad way. So SSgt knows I need these classes, Gunny knows about them, the whole shop I was in knew I hadn’t raised my right hand to stay in. Yet no one stood up and said I shouldn’t go away for six weeks of my last two months. If they did no one listened.

I’ll say here is where I could have done something, should have done something, in retrospect. I didn’t Request Mast, I didn’t speak to my Officer in Charge (OIC) and I didn’t pitch a big enough fit. My emotions got in the way and I couldn’t do that to the shop I had been in for so long, I spent my whole career in the same unit. But I took their crap, and I got on the damn bus and rode away. I should have said hell no and gone higher. But I didn’t and maybe in the end it’s for the best. I have no allusions as to if they ever gave a damn about me. I know they didn’t, right down to the ones who would swear up and down they were my friends.

Well I am sent back and my Gunny tells me that my shop, who never gave a damn about me except how much work I did, should be mad at me and they should be so upset with me. I’m not perfect and I made a lot of mistakes but damn, really? This shop who didn’t stand up for me, this SSgt who wouldn’t let me get my paperwork done but sends me up to the 4 to get paper because I’m a woman and can get more stuff (he actually said that in not so many words, and even made it a point to send me and not some lesser ranking person sitting around while I was out working), these Sgts that could have spoke up and prevented it all are mad at me because I didn’t cause a fuss before I left and just took their crap one last time, this shop is mad because they have to do the right thing. Ok.

Yeah, I could have stopped it but it was at a cost I didn’t want to pay. I would’ve pissed the shop off had I fought it. I would have forced them to send someone else and who knows, I may not have even won that one. Did it make them right to send me? I don’t feel it was right, but its orders. So I followed orders like a good little robot. And I followed orders to go home. And I payed hell for it.

And that hell is why I am sitting in a therapists office. It really broke me. I really cared about that damned shop and would’ve gone through worse hell just to have them give a damn about me. Not in a “Oh we love you way” but I wanted some respect. I earned it but I guess I didn’t demand it loud enough to get it. That hell makes life easier alone than with others. I spent years with some of those guys, deployments, and blood sweat and tears and this was what I earned. I think the Gunny put it best, “I’ll be glad when she’s gone.” Well I was the only she and I’m sure the sentiments were agreed upon for the most part by the entire shop. And that truly killed me and left me torn up. I was in a therapist’s office for Christ’s sake.

And all this is why I sit in Anna’s office time after time. All this and much more but had that not happened when I left I wouldn’t have gone. And I sit alone in my hell. I am the only one that can drag myself out.

The name

September 5, 2010 § Leave a comment

Ok, I chose this quote, yes it’s on GI Jane, because it drove me when I was active duty in the military, and reminded me of something I wanted very much. My freedom. To be allowed to be wild, and just simply be, and not be some automaton on orders and always expected to put everyone else first. And it always reminded me to not be sorry for myself. In telling my story, I’m sure some will sound like pity, but I wouldn’t change anything. It’s made me who I am and I don’t want to change my past to change me. I simply want to be a better person with the life I was given. So, the quote has really become a part of me. An old friend said once to me after I joined and we split way that to tame me was to tame a wildfire. And the only way to tame a fire was to put it out.


September 5, 2010 § Leave a comment

Well, I’m here because maybe writing stories, thoughts, dreams, and life anonymously will help me, or maybe not but it gives me the freedom to express myself and vent and remain unknown. Causes less heartache and embarrassment to all parties involved. I think that may be a good thing.

So I was on my facebook today, and an old (how to say without to much brashness) friend/lover posted he is in a relationship. I’m happy for him. I really am. I’m just not happy for myself. I don’t really mind being alone, I enjoy it actually. But I miss companionship sometimes, and I don’t trust enough to allow people in my life like that very well. I also just found out another old friend of the same sort is engaged about a month ago. I am really happy for him. he swore he’d never settle down, and this is really great for him. Again, not too happy with my chosen state of being.

And now to why I really put this blog up. To vent, and tell some of my history bit by bit, and tell it in a story form, so that maybe I can heal a bit. Just maybe I can get to a place within myself that allows people in, and worthwhile people, not the trash I’ve called men recently, not the trash that claims to be there for you and then isn’t, or the trash that would treat me bad then say I am spoiled and ask too much when all I want is friendship. And that sadly, applies to family, former friends, coworkers, and several other people I have come across.

I know there are good people out there, but I can’t seem to find them and attract a crazy or cruel sort. I’m guessing it’s in something about me, but I can change if I can figure this out. I have a few very good friends, but only so very few, and I really only maintain contact with them over years and years period of time. Others are easier to brush off than dig for a shred of honest decency in them. Like I said, may be something about me, but I don’t know. So here goes. Time to follow through.