One Too Many

One of the departments my job supports is the County Medical Examiner’s office. Today, a young veteran was delivered there who shot himself. While the “22 a day” statistic is not that high as recently reported, any suicide, whether by a veteran or non-veteran is still one too many. The young man’s family said there were “signs” and nothing was done about it. I cannot verify if anyone tried, or if the veteran resisted help.

I told someone that veteran’s age faster than non-veteran’s. Think of it as “Dog Years”. We cram so much energy into a typical day and as one commercial said many years ago: “We do more by 9 am than you do all day.” I’ve experienced that firsthand. I was deployed and worked 7 days a week with no breaks. 12 hour shifts on top of that. I chose nightshift so it at least appeared that I got to sleep in every day.

I take any false victory where I can. I told my co-worker today, veteran’s do not have to be combat ones to have adjustment issues after leaving the military. It’s a state of mind, it encompasses your entire life while doing it. No, it’s not a cult. Or brainwashing. At least not as much as some claim. But you have to believe in it, and dedicate everything you got to it. And when you are surrounded by others who got your back, it gets into your DNA.

Our expectations, the way we handle situations, the dark humor, the crudeness, the lack of filters…that’s a combination of adjusting to anything thrown at us, and coping mechanisms, and dealing with feelings that could stagnate and crush us if allowed. I’m not a combat veteran. But I did have a high-tempo career for over 20 years. I did have those adjustment issues. But, I somehow keep one step ahead of crashing and giving up. (I never contemplated hurting myself or others) But I did consider just leaving everything and everyone behind. And just hide from the world. I’m sort of doing that now after feeling “better”. I don’t attend as many social events, gatherings, still hating crowds, etc.

My friends, family, military brothers and sisters, my VA doctors, all had a hand in keeping me grounded. I found passion in my hobbies and finally found the elusive work-life balance. I knew when to walk away from toxic people, situations, and jobs.

When I learned it was a young veteran, it hurt worse. Even though I didn’t know him, I mourned for him, his family and anyone else who knew him. I think back to the years I had on this world, both good and the bad, and kept moving forward even though I didn’t want to. I don’t know what his secret war was and what other demons that haunted him. I’m not judging him or calling him a quitter. I just wish he got one more chance to get better. Another reset.

I will have a drink for him tonight and pray for those left behind to somehow make sense of it all.

In time.

Schadenfreude

What makes you laugh?

I only laugh at those who deserve the misfortunes that fall upon them:

The reckless driver that gets pulled over by a cop.

The obnoxious person who trips over something while yelling at someone.

A toxic person getting dumped in public.

A person who comes across as morally superior only to get caught in a scandal. (Insert celebrity, pastor, teacher, politician name here)

Dark humor also makes me laugh.

😈🙌🏻🎉😁

7 Years

This month marks my 7th year in my current job. If you knew the whole story about the first 8 years, it would be a bigger deal. My options to stay in the local area were limited if I wanted to doing something close to what I did in the military. Just like Forest Gump, I fell into a good situation. But due to poor judgement (and illegal actions) of others, the contract got killed. Three of those making the poor decisions all went to prison. My team and I were collateral damage and lost our jobs. We all ended up somewhere. My next job was pretty good. Almost like a breather and time to regroup. But again, the contract ended. On better terms thank goodness. But it was time to find something not tied to budgets and contracts. I went to work for the city in a pretty sweet role. I was up against about 120 other candidates. I got the office with a view, oversaw about 25 people, wore the suits, grabbed a glass of wine around the corner to ponder my luck and future. But the honeymoon was over quicker than I liked. I started to hate the job. I had zero support above and below me. All the happy hours in the world wouldn’t save me. I sought counseling, medication and leaning on friends and family. But they too couldn’t help me. I needed to leave. That’s when it got worse. I will skip over those years. I can’t even write about them. Maybe after a few tall pours of bourbon I will.

But here I am. But even the first 90 days didn’t go smoothly. My manager was a joke, as they tore through people and they fled either to other departments or quit altogether. I got swapped out with someone else. That replacement was working 50+ hour weeks, getting chest pains, and quit in the middle of a meeting. I felt bad for her, but also finally felt vindicated.

The subsequent replacements also didn’t last very long. I however found my footing in my current place. Just before COVID became worse, I was asked to pick only one hat to wear. I chose Field Support. I couldn’t be a Project Manager anymore. Again zero support from everyone around me. No one wanted to compromise. I was tired of the “Little Cubicle Empires”. So getting back into the field and getting my hands dirty was the final missing piece of the puzzle. No more drama, BS, headaches, stress and suits.

Aside from the devastating losses during COVID, I finally feeling needed.

Essential.

I know I won’t be here for another 7 years. I may shoot for 3-5 years. It depends if my Fun Meter gets pegged.

The Great Paper Chase

December 2002. That was probably when I officially lost my mind. I was going on my second 9/11 deployment overseas and was issued Mefloquine for malaria. Alongside the other shots for various diseases. After my first couple of weeks over there, I was experiencing sheer terror, anxiety, insomnia, lack of appetite and a smorgasbord of other mental issues. I was sitting with a military officer who was way up there in rank and had been to actual war zones. I mentioned what I was experiencing and after a few questions he determined it was the mefloquine. He saw similar side-effects in others in the field. This was a huge tablet to be taken once a week, as opposed to the other medication that was taken daily and was relatively safer.

I do remember once I stopped taken that “horse tablet” I crashed and slept probably 18 hours straight. Slowly the terror and anxiety reduced to a more comfortable level given the region and mission I was supporting. The year before I was deployed to a far more dangerous place on the other side of the world and was armed, surrounded by razor wire. There we took the “normal” malaria pills. I was more at ease back then.

Many months ago I reached out to a medical professional to help me pinpoint that the mefloquine was the root cause of my mental health issues. This week I finally got a copy of my personnel and medical records that was over 3300 pages in length. (It took over 6 months to get it) As I reviewed the seemingly endless document, I saw my entire military career in words. Every evaluation, promotion, deployment, medical appointment, test, vaccine I received was in there. But that ONE PAGE was still eluding me. As I got towards the end of the file, I saw IT. Plain as day. And I even found a page where I requested to NOT issue me mefloquine on the next deployment.

A couple years after I retired, a quick internet search showed me how mefloquine was being banned for exactly what I experienced. Service member’s lives were turned upside down from that medication. Divorces, legal and career issues. Some maybe even worse.

Somehow, I managed to keep myself together and stay focused on taking care of my wife and children. With counseling, compromises, therapy, distractions, both good and sometimes unhealthy (Drinking) I made it to this stage of my life. I was on track to be a high ranking manager at the City at one point. (Second from the top director position) But that’s when my silent war with myself was getting to a crescendo.

Now I am trying to accept my new normal, my reduced job title (Which I am so much happier in) and move forward. But I do want the military to acknowledge fault. Which usually never happens.

I’m still grateful for my life and experiences. I guess everything has a price.

Career Day

Think I was tossed up between being a farmer and maybe an Adventurer like my GI Joes.

I lived next to a farm and the thought of driving a tractor was very important to me. I did the obligatory Evil Knievel jumps on my bike as most boys did in the 1970’s. But after watching one of his crashes in slow-motion, I think I decided against that.

I don’t remember if I had any other dreams of what I wanted to do, I think I was too busy enjoying just playing. Which I wish I could go back to full time. 😉

Daily writing prompt

When you were five, what did you want to be when you grew up?

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Singing Out Loud

A friend got me hooked on karaoke. Not regularly and not in public. Yet. But they have one at home and I need several stiff drinks of confidence and courage before picking up the mic. We all sound good in the shower, or with headphones on.

I tried to sing along while on my rowing machine the other night. I accept that my vocal range is somewhere between a whisper and a live cat being made into a tennis racket without anesthesia….

When trying to hit any high note, I crack, and chuckle hoping no one can hear me. But damn it feels good trying. I totally get the rush a performer gets when they sing to a group and sing it well. To convey emotion and give an audience a great memory. Even if just for a couple hours. Or knowing your song in on somebodies playlist that can never get enough of.

I will probably never take singing lessons, but maybe I should to give my liver…and that cat a reprieve.

One Life

Not until I got older did I truly appreciate the life I was given. When I see people fight, cheat, claw their way for power, money and ill-gotten gains, with their final breath do they still think it was all worth it?

Instead of caring about the greater good, they selfishly only think about themselves and the small group of equally narrow-minded types. What happened in their lives to lose compassion and integrity?

Think about all the wars and crime that could be avoided if EVERYONE, or at least a few more people stopped and helped each other. Or….didn’t hate someone based on their race, color, orientation…views.

What if the lower income areas received more help and funding? Given any small chance at hope and a better life?

I know that’s not how the world currently works in most areas.

But I can dream and hope.

Daily writing prompt

What’s something most people don’t understand?

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Artificial Intelligence, Actual Ignorance

During my time working for the City briefly, I heard that when voice mail came out in the workplace, some of the older generation panicked and retired. They were held accountable and couldn’t claim ignorance on requests, or deadlines. The same thing happened with computers and emails. Boundaries were established and accountability went up. (Well, on paper at least) And again, some of the older generation was chased away. Not all, but some.

When the Internet came out, there was and still is panic about researching information, or losing the ability to crack open a book at a brick and mortar library. But you still had to form thoughts and convey arguments and feelings onto paper. You had to use your own mind, memory, experience and perspective to form those sentences. With the arrival of A.I. that has now been threatened. When does typing something to the effect of: “Write an email covering this and this, and use X amount of references.” “Oh, and send it to these people on this day.” “…weekly”

Or another one: “Write my term paper about this and that, but only cover these topics.” Now software developers are using it. Now that kind of makes sense, especially for complicated programs. But….as they say, who watching the watchers? Planes so advanced, that a computer has to help fly it. Now we have them flying themselves. Cars, trying, to drive themselves.

Jobs have always replaced organics with certain mundane and dangerous tasks. But when and where do we stop? I heard of a preacher using A.I. to write one of his sermons.

Nice.

Actors, singers and musicians in general can be replaced digitally. (At least they won’t ask for pay increases or be in the tabloids) It’s like the horizon is getting dark and threatening, but people aren’t budging and just staring blankly at the approaching storm without any sense of self-preservation.

We ask Siri and Alexa to do something for us without ever leaving our couches. Just like the first TV remote control did. We may just literally evolve into couch potatoes. (With the same level of intelligence)

E-Scooters and Bikes are slowly making children get less exercise and cardio when they need it the most.

This digital age is making the wrong connections faster. Many have stopped thinking for themselves. It’s easy to believe anything than to pause and verify or question it just a little. It then divides us. Creates walls and conflict. Instead of one happy perfect world.

There is some good hiding in there somewhere. I see a distant family member or old friend doing this or that and feel their joy from afar. We reconnect and catch-up when time and distance doesn’t allow it.

But when do we make that actual phone call, or get in the car, take that flight and physically be….”There”?

Maybe we should go back to the old A.I. “Always Involved, or Always Invested”

Talk and eventual implementation of brain implants will bring another level of de-evolving.

Time to move to the mountains. I’m starting to understand that crazy Aunt or Uncle who live in that cabin in the woods.

The Great Spark

Actually my entire career has been involving technology. Now looking back as it has involved, my day to day role has changed with it. When I first started, some of my equipment actually used vacuum tubes! And just before I changed jobs that old 1940’s equipment finally was upgrade to digital. In my next role, I was assembling “portable” 20′ and 8′ Satellite dishes in the field for tactical communications. The equipment came in towed vans weighing at least 8,000lbs. And just like before, the new stuff came in small boxes with antennas the size of a large suitcase. My body already paid the price for the heavy stuff. I imagine the next generation of technicians will fare a little bit better when they retire. We also had to pound 9′ copper-clad rods into the ground to ensure safe grounding from electrical surges and direct lightning strikes.

Computers have gotten thinner, lighter and faster. Now my phone accomplishes so many tasks away from my desk. I don’t have to be tied to a physical device hardwired to the network, I can research and answer anyone anywhere…anytime.

While the wear and tear is less, the mental fortitude has gone up to stay on top of the latest thing.

This old dog is getting tired learning new tricks….so in a few years, I will probably enjoy ignorant bliss.

Daily writing prompt

How has technology changed your job?

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Momentum

I’m ashamed to admit that I love the movie “Hot Tub Time Machine”, not for its over the top crude humor as much as it struck a nerve with me. It mostly took place in 1986. That was a very, very, VERY pivotal year in my life.

That was when I decided to join the Air Force.

One of the main character’s young 20-something nephew goes back in time with the group and see’s how wild and crazy his uncle and friends were.

He asked his uncle in one scene, “What happened to you guys?”

(Referring to the current older versions who’s lives are a mess or have dreams unfulfilled)

His uncle replies very sadly: “We had momentum…”

I pulled a simple 12 hour shift today. (We are rotating to ensure no one gets burned out)

I work my regular 8 hour days during the rest of the week. I guess we are “Essential”, which gives me a huge roller coaster of emotions at any given minute. I’m complex that way….and not necessarily a strong trait. More of an exhausting trait.
So I’m proud, humbled, angry (that many others get to “work from home”) honored, jazzed, scared, and mostly just plain tired.

“Time to make the doughnuts…” kind of tired.

Back in my military days, we pulled 12 on, 12 off for months on end. “12/12’s”

Yes I was younger back then, but then I realized there were other factors. I was with my military brothers and sisters in the field. We had each other’s backs. We didn’t cause the stress, and we faced it head-on with our arms locked and overcame all of it.
All.
Of.
It.

Think of the movie “300” without the death and 8-pack abs….

In this new world I am working in, I still have a great team, but the external factors greatly outnumber us. External factors that make this activation harder than it needs to be.

I’m sorry I tell endless “war stories” and how much I pine over the “good old days”…but you had to be there.

The other branches would gawk at us when we arrived onsite, and with little discussion or pre-deployment briefing, we would setup an entire comms site in hours and be on the air with secure communications to the other side of the world. We were on autopilot.

When something crashed or hit the fan, we also bolted into action like a complicated ballet troubleshooting, analyzing, fixing issues as the popped up…effortlessly most times.

Veteran’s experience their own version of Dog Years. We compress so much stress and emotion into a shorter period of time, that it gets into your system. Look at ANY industry where retirees literally drop dead within the first months, years of retirement. That is all they knew. They were wired for the frantic pace, the ongoing trench warfare of the mind.

As I said, you just had to be there, because….

…we had some freaking awesome momentum.