Let's take it back to square one and figure out how all this bullshit began...
I never knew why my toys needed to be in a certain order. I never knew why my hair had to be a certain way. I remember arranging my He-Man, G.I. Joe, Centurions, and the like, which seemed to never be in their proper order. All my mom asked me was to clean up my room. My room is clean. It doesn't feel right. Nothing feels right. It was time for school. My hair wasn't right. My clothes… what if my clothes created a catastrophe? What if I didn't have my toys in the right order? The horror that would descend the world would be my fault.
So much yelling. There's no room for your problems. You're fine. You're just having a bad day. Decades would pass, and I would put on a mask as if it were Halloween. Surely the problem is you. Me! Your father believed in the bottle more than he believed in you. It was your fault. Your mom believed in herself more than you. It was your fault. Those thoughts are your fault.
You may not understand why you have to leave a store a certain way or why you have to count to eight when setting your alarm clock. You count to eight while putting on deodorant. When you think about it, your hands shake. It's your fault. Thoughts of your childhood start to sink in. You block them out. They creep back in. Something is wrong with you. Figure it out. Figure it out on your own time.
I can't sleep, too many voices trying to talk to me...
You can't tell her. She just married you! What will she think? Keep the feelings in; you're a pro. Suck it up; you're in the military, and there's no time for you to feel sorry for yourself. You got to be strong.
It hurts like hell. For years I carried these feelings, these thoughts. Chaos. That's what it is; it's chaos. Since I love analogies, I guess the best one would be my mind feels like trying to eat soup with a fork. For decades I felt helpless. It's hard to put into words if you've never had to try and convince your mind that it's going to be ok. It's tough because, at times, it's your strongest opponent. It's your most devious opponent. For some, it's the most deadly.
Is this the end of my reality?
When does it end? Your job doesn't allow you time to reflect and share. Your wife needs you to be the foundation. She's the stronger person. Everyone knows that. You're weak.
I know it's scary, but everything will be alright.
I remember sitting in Shands Jacksonville and thinking to myself, holding her hand and thinking, what could I have done? Surely, there was something you could have done, right? I mean, you didn't park in the first spot you saw. You didn't go in the door that you first saw. This is your fault. Her pain is your pain. You caused this pain. Don't you dare feel sorry for yourself? Do you know how many people have it worse than you?
I've fallen into self-defeat
Good news! I'm getting help; isn't that great? There's no time for your specific problems. Are you not a team player? Oh, are you sad? Don't be such a p*ssy! Back in my day, I wish I had all of your "problems." Once you deploy again, you'll forget about all of your "problems." You're right. It's my fault.
Lie awake in my miserable mind
For decades I battled with my thoughts. I grew up listening to words that cut my heart like unintentional daggers. My only resources were music, video games, and comics. It wasn't until I was in my 40s that I would begin my journey to understand my mind. Even after therapy sessions, I would still seek out the answers and truths to help sort out my thoughts. See, in my mind, my thoughts don't stop. Batman shares the same space as figuring out what's for dinner, my daughters' Girl Scouts' meetings, my meeting at work, and I need gas. Now, you may be saying to yourself that's every person in America. Do you know the feeling of driving around the gas station looking for the perfect pump? You can't use that one; what if a fire happens? Do you know what happens when you don't arrive specifically 15 minutes early to a meeting? God forbid you show up at a time not pre-arranged in your head. It's hell. And hell never stops.
I know I was born, and I know that I'll die; the in-between is mine.
Where do we go from here? I retired from the Navy in 2017; for the most part, I enjoyed my time. I learned a lot, and the structure will always be a cornerstone for who I am. Since my retirement, I've spent a good portion dedicated to my mental health. I've become more comfortable with talking about my feelings and thoughts and bringing who I am to the forefront. There was a time that I would be mad at people for not knowing what I was going through. Now, I share what I'm going through. It hasn't been easy; just ask my wife. I'm not sure where I would be without her; I know a lot of folks say that, but in all sincerity, she's been heaven-sent. For instance, today, she stopped what she was doing to make sure I wasn't overdoing something because she knows I anxiety clean. She stopped what she was doing to make sure I was ok, and I wasn't triggered. My mind and my heart are forever in her debt.
Bloodshot eyes, and I still feel fine.
I've struggled with obsessive-compulsive disorder since I was a teenager. I didn't know what it was, and my parents didn't have the time to figure it out. To this day, they can't be bothered by my issues or concerns. That's ok. I have a loving wife and daughter. I have a nerdy ass volunteer organization in Comic Watch that has been a godsend. I've reconnected with my older brother and his rad family. My mind might be a mess, but I've learned that surrounding myself with people that care is priceless. Not being able to sort out thoughts is f*cking scary, but having people help sort out those thoughts is immeasurable, even if they don't know it.
I'm so worried to be alone.
Why write this? On the surface, it's just another blog post. A rambling. True on all accounts. I needed to get some stuff off my chest and to the surface. I wanted to get these words out to folks that may need them. I can't help but think about that kid that is sitting in their room and feeling alone and not sure where those intrusive thoughts are coming from. Maybe there's someone out there that will read this and start to take those small and frightening steps to seek out a safe and comforting circle of resources. It's ok if it doesn't work out at first; go at your own pace, your own time. Just like Mitch Luker said: I know it's scary, but everything will be alright.
