How did I get here…no, seriously. I’m still trying to “proceed to the route.”
Does anyone else remember the web charts we’d make in school? When the teacher would have you “brainstorm”? Yeah, just me, okay…. Well I’d use those the outside of class. See I’m a planner and a visualization type of person. I’ve got that whole “write down the goals, make the vision board, do the damn thing, set a new goal and go” person. Corny as fuck right? Ehhhh, it worked for me, and if I haven’t lost you to some Netflix original series yet, you’ll see why it’s important.
I had this incredible plan of going into the military right after HS, and was looking at military academies as well with full scholarships given my grades and involvement in JROTC. I was high fucking speed. That’s a military joke, it’s funny and degrading at the same time. So yeah back to that. Enter the end of junior year and a missed period. And another. Ding ding ding, you win the grand prize of being a teen mom.
I’m going to skip over all the details of pregnancy, child birth, breakup, meeting someone, getting married, having my 2nd child, getting divorced, blah blah. The point is… Siri was still there… PROCEED TO THE ROUTE. There was still an ache, a yearning to serve my country. Sooo… with 2 young daughters, a baby boy and being freshly married (for the 2nd time) I enlisted into the US Army. Gadamn was I over the moon. Until I hit the darkside of the moon.
Now if y’all read that first post, the part where I told you it gets heavy, here’s where I’m hoping you’ve been hitting the gym. ::Breathe:: ———::Breathe::
“Not this guy again.” Those are the words that came out of my COs mouth when he was informed of my assault. AGAIN. I was assured I’d be protected, taken care of, and it would not go unpunished. I was thrown to the wolves. They didn’t even bother to let me finish spit up the first go round of water they were choking me with, before holding me down under again. I fought, because you’re trained to fight. What a silly mistake that was. I learned my lesson.
He got his orders to warrant officer school. I got my honorable discharge, PID (pelvic inflammatory disease), HPV 18/45, PTSD, Anxiety, Depression, an addiction to pain pills, alcohol in the hopes I could kill the demons, and on 3 different occasions, myself. Eventually it cost me not being able to bear children ever again, due to cancer from the HPV 18/45.
Of all of these, PTSD has stolen the most from me. It’s stolen… me. I have a “new normal”, and I feel like Alice down the rabbit hole daily. I’ve learned how to control some reactions to triggers, how to recognize some triggers, but healing isn’t linear and it’s a process. I fight demons daily, and they’ve won a lot, but aren’t satisfied quite yet.
I’m alone with them, in the quiet, and I struggle to know what else they need/want from me. I’ve given them my soul, parts of my flesh, my marriage, my mind, my heart, and even tried to give them my life. I think they enjoy watching me relive my own hurt.
Folks will ask about time in the Army. I used to find a way to dance around why I was out. Now I stand firmly and say “I was raped.” That draws various reactions. None surprise me anymore. The Army blamed me, my (ex)husband blamed me, for fucks sake I still blame me. One question I’m always asked “Do you regret it?” That’s very open ended… joining- no, I’d do it again tomorrow. reporting my rape-yes, he’s still a rapist, but I would still be wearing my uniform with pride.
So how did I get here? I didn’t brainstorm this! I’m definitely getting a damn D- on this assignment! This is that “strong girl” everyone seems to be so fond of. Don’t be. I’ve just been through shit.
If you’re still here… refunds are available at the ticket counter to the left.
