I am struggling; those who know me know most of what has happened. To say the last… seven months have been hell on earth would be an understatement. Within these past seven months were some of the most incredible moments I've had in a very long time, and I miss him, my best friend, more than anything. He was my person. He knew exactly what to say and how to say it to pull me out of… the darkness, my thoughts, you name it. I was a better person when he was a constant in my life; I liked who I was; I liked ME. Now? The person I see in the mirror is like looking at a ghost, someone I thought I would never see again, but there she is. I am not going to get into what happened; you can go back and reread some of my blogs and poems, and I am trying to respect his wishes, the last thing he ever said to me. He needed time, and I tried to give him that and space, but then I missed him too much and begged him to stay in my life as best friends. I didn’t expect a response, but I knew, after telling him what happened with my son, and he didn't respond… I knew then that I would never hear from him again. His birthday is in exactly two weeks, and I can't even wish him a Happy Birthday.
Whoever said time heals all wounds was full of it. Where did that concept even come from? And space? Who came up with the idea that space is needed to figure stuff out? If years of therapy and a six-week Intensive Outpatient Program (IOP) taught me anything, it's that time and space are complete BS, and the only way to honestly deal with something is right then and there. Time does not heal anything; time allows you to either 1- work through it and overcome it or 2-learn to live with it. Most of us learn to live with it, and it doesn’t consume us on the good days. On the not-so-good days, well, it rears its ugly head. Personally, when someone tells me that they need time and space, that’s their polite way of saying, "F off, you're crazy" or "I'm not equipped to handle this situation and don’t want to deal with it, so I'm running away." or sometimes they say nothing at all and just vanish, that's always a fun time.
If you go back and reread some of my blogs and poems, you will get an idea of what has been happening, and like I said earlier, the past seven months have been hell. And this year started off with a bang, and the hits keep coming. Part of what I do is retreat into myself, shut everyone out, distance myself, and take it all on alone. And let's be honest, I am alone; no matter how you try to spin it, that’s the honest-to-God truth. In doing that, though, it brings thoughts and feelings of resentment towards certain people and questions if they genuinely care. Some, however, are warranted, especially when those around you notice certain things and bring them to your attention. I have been upfront and honest with everyone about what has been happening, except for one thing, and I will not get into that right now. And to be honest, I did tell one individual and kept them updated, and in doing that, apparently means I'm disrespectful, which, to an extent, I can try to understand; however, not once (up to this point) has said individual ask me if I am ok, or if anything was going on. NOT ONCE, and then proceeds to get mad. August to December was one freaking thing after another, and not once was I asked if I was ok. Now, my three supervisors visited me in the hospital in August, so I'll give them that for that brief moment. The resentment was there, not to mention that during that same time, the dynamic of my section changed.
Most people go home and take out their bad day on their spouse, significant other, children, whatever. I AM NOT SAYING THAT IS RIGHT OR ACCEPTABLE! But in this situation, the bad night at home would be taken out on me at work, and not only was I already going through a lot and retreating into myself, but the treatment I started getting was making it ten times worse. I didn’t even realize it at first! That is how oblivious I was to everything going on. Other people had to bring it up to me by asking me what I did to piss so and so off. I was in a constant state of fear, stress, anxiety, disbelief, and hell; I started to think and feel like I was a total dirtbag and screwup. (there is also a lot more to this, and I don't have the mental capacity to go into it right now)
Let's fast-forward to the new year and dive in headfirst. My son, let's say feeling like I failed as a mother, never felt more apparent than in that moment on 2 January. I had my son committed, ensuring everyone who needed to know was kept up to date and went back to work on the 4th. On the 5th, for the first time in months, I was asked how I was doing and conversed with my first sergeant. At first, it was just a simple conversation that went deeper, and it was because I had kept it all bottled up. We worked through some of the issues and then brought in the other two, and I could tell and feel how pissed off they were that I was in there having a closed-door conversation without their knowledge. Even though I had tried several times to have that exact conversation with them, it is what it is. I ensured that I kept all three of them up to date on everything, every detail I told them. When my son was to be discharged, I let them know the aftercare plan and was told I could telework due to the times and the constant driving; I didn’t even ask; I was told, and let me be absolutely clear, I am incredibly grateful that they allowed me the time to deal with my son and that entire situation. Again, I kept them updated on everything every day, and not once did anyone ask me how I was doing or even how my son was doing (other people did, but the ones who should have didn’t). When I returned to work in the office, my first sergeant asked me how I was doing, and I admit I brushed it off and said, "I'm fine." Then, it felt like everything came crashing down. After everything I had been through and was still going through, instead of them being concerned with my mental health and well-being or my son's, they were more concerned with taking my rank. Now, I will never deny that I am not in compliance, and I will also never deny that it is the right thing to do, however; circumstances outside of my control contributed to why I am not in compliance, and instead of saying, "I know you've gone through a lot and still are, so here is how we are going to help you." No, I didn't get anything like that at all. Instead, I got, "You knew this would happen." I spent five straight days researching and reaching out to everyone I knew I could trust and different states to ensure I could help myself, since the ones who claim to have my back obviously don’t, only to find out that the one person who SHOULD have my back no matter what, who said they did, swore they did, was the one pushing to take my rank. When that realization hit when those words were told to me, I felt the knife go through my back straight into my heart, and that was it for me. That was the "I will never trust them again, in any way." As I was driving to the nail salon, I cried; the betrayal I felt was so intense that I could barely breathe. Oh, and that conversation was the first time anyone asked how my son was doing, but still, no one asked how I was doing, even though I kept saying that I was back on anti-depressants and all but begging one of them to ask me if I was ok.
Side note: I even went off on my first sergeant about no one asking me if I was ok. Still, no one asked. Instead, I got met with the silent treatment for days.
I could continue on with how the same ones who claim to have my back bend over backwar for other individuals within my organization or do everything in their power to help them out, some of it illegal. Yet, I am apparently the one with the big ego who sits perched on a pedestal and thinks nothing will ever happen to me. Oh, and my promotion, obviously was 100% a favor someone did for me… even though I have emails and text messages to support the fact that it wasn’t. But that is a conversation for another time. M.W. told me that it was time for me to leave, to change jobs, and as I told him, I can't just change jobs every time something like this happens. It makes me feel like I am the problem, and right now, that’s all I have been thinking about. I will not argue that I am not the easiest person to work with, BUT, I will argue that I can adapt pretty well and will work with just about anyone (to an extent). People that I've talked to about this entire situation all say the same thing, "they feel threatened and intimidated, and the only way for them to feel like they have control is to take you out." I am not saying I agree with that, I don't want to agree with it, but… :-/
M.W. is right; I am no longer fit for this organization, the entire organization, not my current place. I hit 18 years this year, 18 years since I raised my right hand; I should be a damn master sergeant at least by now, but I'm not, nor do I even want to be. There was a time when I wanted to follow in my great mentor's footsteps and be the next state J1 sergeant major… she believed in me; I used to believe in me. Now, I really don’t give a f*ck about any of it. All I want right now is to make it four more years so I can retire with full benefits and ensure my kids have insurance. My love for my job, this job, has all but vanished.
