I think it's safe to presume that many of my friends' reactions when I broke the news to them that I'd be in a place full of sand, high temperatures, and a significant lack of booze. I had gone on and on about how I wanted to come to Iraq for so long, but as how things go with life, most assumed that I would see that grass isn't the color it was previously assumed. Many figured I would do the common sense thing and instead of being excited, nay, estatic, about the thought of going to Iraq, I would regret my desire to going in the first place. There were those that assumed I'd get here and simply hate it, find the same things here that I detested back in Norfolk, and want nothing more than to just come straight home on the next flight.
That's not to say that things weren't rediscovered, nor did I "escape" everything that plagued me back home. But I am writing about something that I did leave behind. Something I'm not proud of at all, and rather not think of too much of. Still, especially after having a talk with my Navy buddy about crap he had to deal with before and during this deployment, I figured I'd share with you all the best thing to happen to me because of my time here. I think I'm one of a very few that can safely say, "Iraq saved my life."
Because I'm not 100% comfortable discussing this with my loving public, as it would insinuate that even I, Sailor Harry, have flaws, I will be brief, yet blunt. My family has a history with depression. A history with dark chapters that I'm not willing to repeat. Well, not willing anymore.
My time spent in Norfolk was dismal. I do have fond memories deployed on the ship, especially in port. But the majority of the time was spent sulking, wallowing in self pity, and stagnating myself, desiring for more and loathing my exisitence aboard the USS Bataan. To make maters worse, I had a mouth, foul attitude, lack of personal responsibility, and I seemed to constantly forget how to self start... myself. I get into yelling matches with my superiors and was not proving myself or reaching the "goals" I set out for myself when I first came to the command back in 2006.
The time leading up to before I found out about Iraq was tough, if not pathetic. I requested and volunteered for an IA but was told my chances going were doubtful. Then I was turned down, as another was selected. Then I was told I wouldn't be allowed to go due to medical reasons. With this bait and switch, my depression worsen and I was ready to go through with the final extreme. And for what? There was no good reason! I type this and am disgusted. It was my worse moment, my worst weakness. I'm pretty sure that this even ranks worse than the time I got my mother a cheap plastic pin for Christmas worth less than a quarter. That being said , she will quickly tell you that this is hard to determine that she nearly ordered me to commit harakiri to save face that year. It was tough being twelve int he Atchison house hold, I tell you.
Though I ofer hummor, I view what almost occured as no funny matter. (Nor did she really suggest that I conduct ceremonial suicide for a sub par gift. She just instilled the worst gift a woman can give a man; guilt.) When I got the news, I wasn't happy. I was crapping fairy dust and floating on air. I had no idea what I'd be doing here or how much I'd enjoy it. Once I did, however, I was even more enamored and for once in my life, truely focused. It was a mission I truely believed in, people I truely cared about, and a moment where it was clear that what was needed was a sudden increase in maturity and self reliance. I have been challenged phsyically and mentally. I have learned things about myself, and confirmed them.
Suicide has been a serious negative, touching more and more people as time goes by. It's rarely justified, nor is it ever the desired outcome or result. For those that ever doubt themselves, find themselves in weakness, or truely have no idea what to do, don't stay quiet. I was fortunate to not seek counseling or a chaplain, due to the fact that I have a mother who would kill me before letting me do anything as foolish as that. But for those that don't have... sigh.. The bestest mommies in the world that love their... Do I really have to tyoe this?... That love their Harry berry blue berries, at least do me a favor and give me a call. If my greatness intimidates you that much, please call the Suicide hotline, the number is listed below:
1-800-SUICIDE (1-800-784-2433)
God, it was one pin. Now you know why she gets the best gifts every year. Oh, AND a $600, hand-woven, silk, Irainian rug. (I love you mom.)
- Sailor Harry
That's not to say that things weren't rediscovered, nor did I "escape" everything that plagued me back home. But I am writing about something that I did leave behind. Something I'm not proud of at all, and rather not think of too much of. Still, especially after having a talk with my Navy buddy about crap he had to deal with before and during this deployment, I figured I'd share with you all the best thing to happen to me because of my time here. I think I'm one of a very few that can safely say, "Iraq saved my life."
Because I'm not 100% comfortable discussing this with my loving public, as it would insinuate that even I, Sailor Harry, have flaws, I will be brief, yet blunt. My family has a history with depression. A history with dark chapters that I'm not willing to repeat. Well, not willing anymore.
My time spent in Norfolk was dismal. I do have fond memories deployed on the ship, especially in port. But the majority of the time was spent sulking, wallowing in self pity, and stagnating myself, desiring for more and loathing my exisitence aboard the USS Bataan. To make maters worse, I had a mouth, foul attitude, lack of personal responsibility, and I seemed to constantly forget how to self start... myself. I get into yelling matches with my superiors and was not proving myself or reaching the "goals" I set out for myself when I first came to the command back in 2006.
The time leading up to before I found out about Iraq was tough, if not pathetic. I requested and volunteered for an IA but was told my chances going were doubtful. Then I was turned down, as another was selected. Then I was told I wouldn't be allowed to go due to medical reasons. With this bait and switch, my depression worsen and I was ready to go through with the final extreme. And for what? There was no good reason! I type this and am disgusted. It was my worse moment, my worst weakness. I'm pretty sure that this even ranks worse than the time I got my mother a cheap plastic pin for Christmas worth less than a quarter. That being said , she will quickly tell you that this is hard to determine that she nearly ordered me to commit harakiri to save face that year. It was tough being twelve int he Atchison house hold, I tell you.
Though I ofer hummor, I view what almost occured as no funny matter. (Nor did she really suggest that I conduct ceremonial suicide for a sub par gift. She just instilled the worst gift a woman can give a man; guilt.) When I got the news, I wasn't happy. I was crapping fairy dust and floating on air. I had no idea what I'd be doing here or how much I'd enjoy it. Once I did, however, I was even more enamored and for once in my life, truely focused. It was a mission I truely believed in, people I truely cared about, and a moment where it was clear that what was needed was a sudden increase in maturity and self reliance. I have been challenged phsyically and mentally. I have learned things about myself, and confirmed them.
Suicide has been a serious negative, touching more and more people as time goes by. It's rarely justified, nor is it ever the desired outcome or result. For those that ever doubt themselves, find themselves in weakness, or truely have no idea what to do, don't stay quiet. I was fortunate to not seek counseling or a chaplain, due to the fact that I have a mother who would kill me before letting me do anything as foolish as that. But for those that don't have... sigh.. The bestest mommies in the world that love their... Do I really have to tyoe this?... That love their Harry berry blue berries, at least do me a favor and give me a call. If my greatness intimidates you that much, please call the Suicide hotline, the number is listed below:
1-800-SUICIDE (1-800-784-2433)
God, it was one pin. Now you know why she gets the best gifts every year. Oh, AND a $600, hand-woven, silk, Irainian rug. (I love you mom.)
- Sailor Harry
Posts
It seems so easy to think that you could leave this world and all it's worries.
ReplyDeleteBut it's when you have the strength to face life that you discover all the good things you would have missed.Take the good with the bad, turn it into something beautiful,and live your life to the fullest.