@LTorino - I missed the whole story here. Where you formerly the Mike Holmes guy who started this thread, or are you someone different? If you are not him, can you give me a little background? Were you physically abused as a child? Keep in mind, I am not a psychologist. But I would be willing to bet depression like yours stems from physical and verbal abuse suffered from a young age.
I have struggled with depression. While I didn't even realize it until I was 30, I have pretty much been anhedonic and had social anxiety disorder forever. Most likely because my mother became physically and verbally abusive to me once my dad left her. From there, I was thrown into a high school that was at times extremely violent and was a place where you really had to guard your emotions or you would make yourself a target. So I know that is where my inability to really feel a lot of joy comes from. At least, not being able to feel it without a sense of waiting for the other shoe to drop, unless I have some chemical assistance.
Hey, I'm sorry for you suffering. Life can be so unfair, and it sucks.
Yes, I used to post as Mike Armyquitte and Mike Holmes. Generally, I hit a low point and just change my password to jibberish so I have no access to post.
I really don't have a huge sob story, or maybe I'm just underselling the struggles of childhood. I'm from an upper middle class family where my parents were workaholics(my dad worked 100 hour weeks before we moved out of the higher cost of living Long Island). They are good people, but they have their issues. My dad's dad was physically abusive, my mom's grandpa raped her as a child, and my mom's parents weren't great. That all leads to a cycle because they have their own issues and don't know any better and had poor parenting skills. I got a vasectomy to break that cycle.
My coping mechanism has always been avoidance. If I tried to help my dad or grandpa with something, I'd get called an idiot, which really has become my own inner voice. I hated my brother because he annoyed me and I found him unbearable(I actually only started to talk with him after my poor military experience because he's been in the military for a long time. He agrees with me when I bash the military, then brags to others about serving in two wars. I just don't get him. I like consistency.) Because I really got nothing positive out of my family except whacks and insults from my dad, screaming and insults from my mom, and hits and stupidity from my brother, I learned to just lock my bedroom door and watch television all the time. I had no friends in school because I had zero confidence. I didn't even eat lunch because I felt I was unworthy of asking my parents for money. Only towards the end of High School did I start having friends because of things like having pro wrestling fandom in common and gaining a little confidence due to working out. I never dated a girl because I thought of myself as the ugliest person in the room. Looking back, I would kill to redo that part of my life. I had my biceps popping through my shirt back then and very good looking girls coming on to me, but I truly felt they were just playing a sick joke so I turned them away.
Even though I was a 4.00 GPA student, I always felt I was an idiot and one of the dumbest people on earth. My first go-around in college, I wanted to be a cop because I hated how people of authority abused their power, so I wanted to be one and be nice to people. My poor self image and anxiety made me drop out of school. I truly felt I was too stupid to be worthy of a college degree and only the best and brightest should have them. I never had much ambition because I got through life just watching television and not really aspiring for anything else out of life.
I met my first serious girlfriend in college. I didn't even find her attractive, but my low self image made me think "Take what you can get." I never broke up with her because we were living with my parents and she had no place to go if I did. I didn't want the guilt on my conscience. She cheated on me a lot, but I don't blame her because it was wrong of me to be with someone I didn't find attractive. The Army decision was in part a way to distance myself from her. Basically, she'll have to move out of my parents if it's only her living there and I'm gone. Then I could breakup and have less guilt.
Prior to joining the Army, I took a civil service test to be a jail guard. I didn't even want the job but I wanted to appease my dad after dropping out of school. I got to the psychological test phase. Basically, I was instantly disqualified because I passively considered suicide in my teen years. I figured everyone had. I truly didn't think there was anything mentally wrong with me, and that I should go ahead and join the Army and comeback a year later with that on the resume. One of the things that made the Army decision more enticing was my lack of confidence and the fact the Army didn't interview you; they just hired you. I didn't believe in myself to find another job.
I think in the back of my head, I was always suspicious of the military. When I was going to see a recruiter years prior, I got into a car accident. I actually thought of it as divine intervention(I'm not religious) It just felt like God was saying don't do it. But I did it this time. I wanted to continue to appease my dad, and I figured this would suffice.
I guess I had a lot of wrong preconceived notions about the military because I truly thought I could go be an MP for a year, get some training, and come back. I didn't know what the hell MPs did though or why they existed, because I figured all military members were upstanding citizens. I told my recruiter I had failed a psychological exam and if that was an issue, but he assured me it was no big deal.
I actually wasn't going to enlist after the guy offering more jobs based on my ASVAB score explained all contracts were 8 years and included chunks of 4 years, 5 years, and 6 years active. I only wanted a year and figured that's all people really did unless deployed. Just went I felt relief that I wasn't going to be enlisting, the jobs guy said he could get me a 2 year contract(I guess these have went away). Since the recruiter had driven me 100 miles to MEPs, I started feeling guilt and like I owed him, so I signed. After taking the oath of enlistment, a feeling immersed my head that would do so almost my entire stint at Fort Leonard Wood; regret and depression. I cried like a baby when I got home. I didn't want to do it, but I felt I owed to the recruiter and started thinking "How bad can it be? If I don't like it, I'll just come home."
When I got to Leonard Wood 2 months later, I just became a mental mess. I never expected that trainees are glorified prisoners; we were herded around in reception like sheep, had our time wasted intentionally, and were inundated with propoganda that the "fastest way out was to graduate." I was crying every night. I had went against my instincts just to appease others, and the reality of the situation was nowhere near what I expected.
I started really disliking the military when they played We Were Soldiers on one of the last days of reception. I thought to myself, "Why the fuck are you spotlighting the Vietnam War in a positive fashion? The military should be ashamed of that war and should have taken steps to ensure that never happens again." I guess I just assumed things had changed from the Vietnam War movies that I had seen on television. It seemed like a natural response.
Everybody kept talking about how "down range" would be different and fun. I started thinking maybe they're right, although the idea of shooting weapons didn't appeal to me. It hit me how little I had in common with the people around me and with the very purpose of the military.
Once I got to experience day zero, I was completely appalled. They screamed at us to get off the bus and line up holding the bags. "You brought em, you carry em." That was stupid as fuck logic, I thought. I was smiling because it looked kind of funny. A Drill Sergeant got in my face and threatened to wipe that smile off my face. Instantly, my reaction to threats is to fight. I wanted to fight badly, but I knew it would not benefit me, so my bad mood just chewed me up. They threatened us and talked about the UCMJ, then herded us to our barracks to inventory, lock away our civilian stuff, watch us shower, give us 2 minutes to eat, and put us to bed. All my head was filled with was "How the fuck is this legal? Why the fuck does society glorify this shit? This is bullshit." I was angry, at myself, at my country, at society, and at these trainers. I recall thinking whether I was sucker of the year for 2006 for enlisting or 2007 for showing up. I had the Michael Jackson song "Smooth Criminal" in my head all the time. I had just been struck by a smooth criminal, the United States government. Why did the recruiter not tell me any of this?
My anxiety started really hitting hard and I was in a constant state of depression. All they did was warn and threaten us. I'm going to be here forever because these fucks don't like how I roll my shirt or make my bed, I thought. They spent week 1 bringing us to classrooms and explaining that we signed a contract and couldn't leave. It seemed like such revisionist bullshit; I sure as shit didn't believe I was trapping myself when I made an electronic signature.
It didn't take long. If they truly weren't going to let anyone out, I was killing myself. I certainly wasn't going to train and reward them for the deceit and threats. I'm a catch more Flys with honey than vinegar person.
I will say that most my platoon mates were nice and supportive to me. I think the rhetoric would have eventually turned them against me had I stayed long enough. A "battle buddy" tried telling the platoon DS I was breaking down bad, but he said that they would only deal with it if I came to him directly. I didn't. I decided to hang myself in the bathroom. Only after I was struggling to breathe, did I release the belt somehow. As I sat on the ground, I told myself you're going to attempt to get out of here before you kill yourself.
The weird thing is my anxiety and Army rhetoric had me believing there was nothing mentally wrong with me. These armchair diagnoses had me legitimately worried that the psychiatrist would find me fine and I'd have to kill myself. They treated me like I was just going through a phase, but I knew I was done. I simulated a fight to get quicker attention. They were basically just ignoring me and pushing me to the side, which was making me more suicidal. I pulled guard on my dickhead battle buddy and got the immediate attention I needed.
When I saw the psychiatrist, I was pre-screened by a female Specialist who seemed to be pretty terrible at her job because she was provoking me and playing on my anxiety. Did compassion and understanding just cease to exist in the military, I thought. Why was everyone so dismissive of the very fact that people enlist ignorantly and that just shouldn't happen? They just liked passing the buck and naming it personal responsibility.
The psychiatrist was a pretty decent guy and I could kind of tell he was going to recommend discharge. It was creepy as fuck that he could only recommend and the decision was ultimately up to my piece of shit Captain.
After I tried stabbing myself with a pen, they broke the news that it was a stupid decision because I was being discharged. I wanted to hug all of them. I think they resented my happiness and excitement since they tried to fuck with me after that. It took about 3 weeks to get paperwork signed and get sent to the Return Home Unit. I was miserable as hell and anxious being told I was going home was all a lie, but I just kept my head down. Had it taken much longer, I would have still killed myself. I had too much doubt from my anxiety that I was leaving and I didn't have an ounce of respect for the officer and NCOs who talked shit to me constantly. I recall wanting to scream "Fuck the United States Army" on top of Mount Everest.
After I was bussed out the gates did I truly realize I had a mental illness. People like First Sergeant Weatherholt calling me weak and not a team player was the rhetoric that filled my head to the point I believed it. I really wanted to make a difference when I got home. It wasn't just me who suffered, people tried to get out to no avail, people cried in their bunks, people were scammed, etc. Just seems so wrong to me. Alas, there's really no market for talking people out of joining the military or helping people get out; the system is rigged. I even looked into suing or pressing criminal charges. No dice.
