I was diagnosed with PTSD, anxiety, and depression in 2015 but had been dealing with these issues undiagnosed since at least 2003. I won’t delve into the full details of why I have PTSD, but here’s the short version (the full version all over this blog): I served in the Navy from 2000 to 2010. During that time, I experienced several traumatic events. I was in a plane crash, lost a close friend in another plane crash (I was the last person to work on that plane), witnessed someone walking through a spinning propeller, and nearly got killed by the same propeller when the exhaust of a Super Hornet caused me and another sailor to lose our footing and roll right through it. Quick action by the pilot is the only reason I’m alive. Additionally, I lost a close friend to murder and another to suicide after he lost his battle with PTSD. These are just some of the major reasons my mental health is in poor condition.
Why am I writing about this here? Honestly, I’m not sure. One reason could be that I feel relatively anonymous here, and if I posted this on Facebook, people would be knocking on my door within minutes. I just need to get some stuff out of my head, and I happened to be on here right now.
Let’s see, what else do I need to share before continuing? I failed at a suicide attempt in 2007 when I lost my friend. Most recently, I nearly tried again in April of 2022, which earned me a stay in a lovely VA mental health facility. I used to drink a lot, but I’ve been sober since that supervised “vacation.” I’ve been in therapy and on various medications since 2015, but they’ve only helped so much, which brings me to why my mental health is still in the gutter.
Since my diagnosis, I have never fully dealt with anything. I just did the absolute minimum to keep moving. I have kids to support and a world of people to fool into believing nothing is wrong with me. If I admitted how broken I was, I would pretty much lose everything. Jobs were just jobs; eventually, I’d lose my temper and get fired. I had a few jobs that lasted longer because they were small companies aware of my issues, but even with those, I’d eventually wear out my welcome. Ultimately, everything came to a head in October when I was fired from my last job.
I reached a point where I could no longer hide my struggles. Everything was obvious to my family, my kids, and my friends. In my own head, I was ready to be done with the world, but thankfully, the right people forced themselves into my life and haven’t left, even if I may want them to. Since October, I’ve been in what’s essentially full-time outpatient care at my local VA, and it’s helping. Despite my criticisms of the VA, there are good people there. At the beginning of the year, I will be going to a program in Boston that’s supposed to be great. It needs to be because I am about to crash.
If Boston helps as much as it should, I still have a lot to work through, but I can’t do that until my head is on straighter. I hope I can serve as a cautionary tale to anyone struggling with their own mental health. I’m slowly learning that you cannot just keep putting band-aids over the problem. Sooner or later, it’s either going to kill you or force you to deal with it.