Change is...bad...?
One of my biggest concerns with coming out here is that I am going to change. Now, that's not to say that I think I can come back from a year long deployment EXACTLY the same as I left. Change is inevitable. We all go through changes with the different stages of our lives. Some change is good and some bad...but if it is significant enough, it all shapes who we are as a person.
There is a term that has been coined which can easily be used to describe what I am going through with this tour. It is called a SIGNIFICANT EMOTIONAL EVENT. They say that a Significant Emotional Event is one of those character changing events in our lives. Getting married...having children...the death of a loved one...a traumatic car accident. The list is as varied as the people who experience them.
One such event stands out in my mind. My wedding? The birth of my children? Finding out my Grandfather has Alzheimer's disease? While they ALL are very SIGNIFICANT, they are not the one I am thinking. No, this one is a bit more relative to the current situation. Basic Training.
Being away from home for the first time is quite an experience for any young person. The College freshman is nervous and excited that they are about to experience life as an "Adult" for the first time. The young man or woman entering the workforce out of high school is about to quickly learn why they call what you make before taxes "Gross income"...(because it makes you sick once you see what they take out in taxes.) The high school sweethearts that have decided to tie the knot and start a family...well, they are about to have quite the wake up call, no?
As for the young man who was tired of part time jobs that he didn't really like anyway, but he only took because his parents made him pay rent unless he went to college (which he wasn't about to do, because it was school and he hated the last twelve years of the stuff...so why PAY to do more?) Well...his options were getting more slim by the day. With an exhausted sigh, he shrugged his shoulders and headed off to the lumber mill/photo studio/water park (life guard)/UPS loading dock/carousel (YES...a merry go round....)/Pizza Hut/whatever to earn his $5.25.
It was on the way home from one of the above listed jobs that his life was about to change forever. His route home took him past the Armed Services Recruiting Center. For reasons still unknown to even himself, he pulled his 1978 Ford Fairmont (AKA...that red piece of crap...) into the Recruiter's parking lot. Getting out of the car, he looked up at the sign. With a deep breath, he opened the door and boldly walked in, declaring...
"I want to fly jets."
You're confused now...aren't you? They don't fly jets in the Army. I decided that IF I was going to join one of the services, I would do the coolest job out there...I'd be a fighter pilot. After about six and a half minutes of solid, non-stop, hysterical laughter from the Air Force Recruiters...I walked out. Shaken, but not defeated..I stepped next door. Yes...this time to the Army Recruiter. (It should be noted that the 'other two' services were not really an option for me...I knew a few Marines and that was more than enough motivation to avoid the Corps. And as far as the Navy...If I am on a boat, I want to be able to see land. That way I know which direction to swim when it starts to sink.)
SO...I boldly walked into the Army Recruiter and declared...
"I want to blow shit up."
Again, there was laughter. (I attribute this, in retrospect and now having been a recruiter, to the fact that...at the time...I had multi colored hair that came down to my chin, wore a black trench coat, jeans with holes in the knees, a tie dyed T-shirt, and two different colored Chuck Taylor Converse All Stars...one black...one white.) After only about two minutes of laughter, Staff Sergeant Walker had me take a test, asked me some questions...and made me feel generally good about my decision to join the Army. (He was pretty good at what he did.)
Skip ahead a few months to January 3, 1996. This is where the SIGNIFICANT EMOTIONAL EVENT occurs. This was the day I met Drill Sergeant Gonzales, Drill Sergeant Pedraza, and Drill Sergeant Swift...(Who's first name, I believe was DAMIEN!!!!!) The whole process of Basic Training at Ft. Benning, GA was part of what molded me into who I am today. My Mom commented after they picked me up that she was impressed at the change. She noticed that I said "Yes, Ma'am" and "Yes Sir" to strangers (waitresses, hotel receptionists, etc.) I was also told that I walked differently...(I told them it was from all the ass chewings I got in Basic...)
Here's the point...I would not be me if I didn't go through that a decade ago. I was scared. I was lonely. At times I thought I would regret my decision. Today, however, I honestly feel it was one of the best choices I have ever made.
So...here...in Iraq...It's a lot of the same. I'm scared. I'm lonely. Sometimes I think I'll regret volunteering to come over here. I have seen friends come back changed. You hear the stories of PTSD...post traumatic stress disorder...and you wonder..."What's going to happen to me?" When my brother came back after four months...he was different, for a while. (Loud noises bothered him, and he had nightmares for a while...) But, he's OK now...at least he's back to being the same old pain in the ass that left.
What I worried about most, was losing what made me...me. I kissed the most wonderful woman in the world goodbye, and left the two most precious children in the world for a year. (That's not that long...but it is still a third of my daughter's whole life.) I fear that they won't know me...or like me...when I get back. I fear that they will get too used to me not being there.
Then I think about Ft. Benning, GA. I think about all the fears I had there...all the worrying that I did about coming home changed...and it hits me. This situation is just like that all over again. I have to learn from the suck...grow from the uncomfortable...Centralize the positive...and use the miserable to make me a better...me.
It is said the we are the sum of all our experiences. If you add up just what I have the opportunity to experience in the next year...well, I'll need a calculator, but it's a pretty impressive figure. I think I'm alright after basic training, several less than ideal duty stations...oh, yeah...and having grown up in a trailer park. So I think that I'll handle this change just fine.
Looking at it, and keeping an open mind, just shows me that not all change is bad.
SSG,
Out
There is a term that has been coined which can easily be used to describe what I am going through with this tour. It is called a SIGNIFICANT EMOTIONAL EVENT. They say that a Significant Emotional Event is one of those character changing events in our lives. Getting married...having children...the death of a loved one...a traumatic car accident. The list is as varied as the people who experience them.
One such event stands out in my mind. My wedding? The birth of my children? Finding out my Grandfather has Alzheimer's disease? While they ALL are very SIGNIFICANT, they are not the one I am thinking. No, this one is a bit more relative to the current situation. Basic Training.
Being away from home for the first time is quite an experience for any young person. The College freshman is nervous and excited that they are about to experience life as an "Adult" for the first time. The young man or woman entering the workforce out of high school is about to quickly learn why they call what you make before taxes "Gross income"...(because it makes you sick once you see what they take out in taxes.) The high school sweethearts that have decided to tie the knot and start a family...well, they are about to have quite the wake up call, no?
As for the young man who was tired of part time jobs that he didn't really like anyway, but he only took because his parents made him pay rent unless he went to college (which he wasn't about to do, because it was school and he hated the last twelve years of the stuff...so why PAY to do more?) Well...his options were getting more slim by the day. With an exhausted sigh, he shrugged his shoulders and headed off to the lumber mill/photo studio/water park (life guard)/UPS loading dock/carousel (YES...a merry go round....)/Pizza Hut/whatever to earn his $5.25.
It was on the way home from one of the above listed jobs that his life was about to change forever. His route home took him past the Armed Services Recruiting Center. For reasons still unknown to even himself, he pulled his 1978 Ford Fairmont (AKA...that red piece of crap...) into the Recruiter's parking lot. Getting out of the car, he looked up at the sign. With a deep breath, he opened the door and boldly walked in, declaring...
"I want to fly jets."
You're confused now...aren't you? They don't fly jets in the Army. I decided that IF I was going to join one of the services, I would do the coolest job out there...I'd be a fighter pilot. After about six and a half minutes of solid, non-stop, hysterical laughter from the Air Force Recruiters...I walked out. Shaken, but not defeated..I stepped next door. Yes...this time to the Army Recruiter. (It should be noted that the 'other two' services were not really an option for me...I knew a few Marines and that was more than enough motivation to avoid the Corps. And as far as the Navy...If I am on a boat, I want to be able to see land. That way I know which direction to swim when it starts to sink.)
SO...I boldly walked into the Army Recruiter and declared...
"I want to blow shit up."
Again, there was laughter. (I attribute this, in retrospect and now having been a recruiter, to the fact that...at the time...I had multi colored hair that came down to my chin, wore a black trench coat, jeans with holes in the knees, a tie dyed T-shirt, and two different colored Chuck Taylor Converse All Stars...one black...one white.) After only about two minutes of laughter, Staff Sergeant Walker had me take a test, asked me some questions...and made me feel generally good about my decision to join the Army. (He was pretty good at what he did.)
Skip ahead a few months to January 3, 1996. This is where the SIGNIFICANT EMOTIONAL EVENT occurs. This was the day I met Drill Sergeant Gonzales, Drill Sergeant Pedraza, and Drill Sergeant Swift...(Who's first name, I believe was DAMIEN!!!!!) The whole process of Basic Training at Ft. Benning, GA was part of what molded me into who I am today. My Mom commented after they picked me up that she was impressed at the change. She noticed that I said "Yes, Ma'am" and "Yes Sir" to strangers (waitresses, hotel receptionists, etc.) I was also told that I walked differently...(I told them it was from all the ass chewings I got in Basic...)
Here's the point...I would not be me if I didn't go through that a decade ago. I was scared. I was lonely. At times I thought I would regret my decision. Today, however, I honestly feel it was one of the best choices I have ever made.
So...here...in Iraq...It's a lot of the same. I'm scared. I'm lonely. Sometimes I think I'll regret volunteering to come over here. I have seen friends come back changed. You hear the stories of PTSD...post traumatic stress disorder...and you wonder..."What's going to happen to me?" When my brother came back after four months...he was different, for a while. (Loud noises bothered him, and he had nightmares for a while...) But, he's OK now...at least he's back to being the same old pain in the ass that left.
What I worried about most, was losing what made me...me. I kissed the most wonderful woman in the world goodbye, and left the two most precious children in the world for a year. (That's not that long...but it is still a third of my daughter's whole life.) I fear that they won't know me...or like me...when I get back. I fear that they will get too used to me not being there.
Then I think about Ft. Benning, GA. I think about all the fears I had there...all the worrying that I did about coming home changed...and it hits me. This situation is just like that all over again. I have to learn from the suck...grow from the uncomfortable...Centralize the positive...and use the miserable to make me a better...me.
It is said the we are the sum of all our experiences. If you add up just what I have the opportunity to experience in the next year...well, I'll need a calculator, but it's a pretty impressive figure. I think I'm alright after basic training, several less than ideal duty stations...oh, yeah...and having grown up in a trailer park. So I think that I'll handle this change just fine.
Looking at it, and keeping an open mind, just shows me that not all change is bad.
SSG,
Out
posted by Unknown at 2:07 AM
2 Comments:
Hey, Luke. Mind if I link to your blog from mine? I think my readers would be interested in another aspect of life here. I'm thinking about you and lifting you up. Hugs.
Hi Son
your writing blows me away once again. Please keep this up - it is very inspiring. I hope when I start writing I will have half the talent you have in expressing your thoughts and feelings.
Love you so much
Mom
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