Lee Sun-kyun

I’m hooked on K-Dramas (Korean TV and Movies) for about two years. I’m starting to recognize some of the actors. Sadly one of them, Lee Sun-kyun, died by suicide last year. He was being investigated for drug use. I’m not condoning drug use, or other crimes, but I am sad that an artist took their own life as the pressures of his culture made that is only viable out. I’m still learning about Korea’s culture, but I know they are very strict about many things that in my country, are a joke unfortunately.

I am still devastated about the loss of Heath Ledger, Robin Williams, and several other actors who took their own lives, or overdosed. I myself overcame depression (not drug use) but I wasn’t in that dark place where taking my own life was ever considered. My worse case scenario was being banished from my home and family. I didn’t want to be around me during those dark times.

Sun-kyun was the lead actor in the movie “Parasite”. That was my first exposure to him in a role. Another thing I love about K-dramas is their soundtracks. In this case, “My Mister”, the main song caught my attention and I love it. I stream it often on my playlist.

When I read the premise of “My Mister”: “A man in his 40s withstands the weight of life. A woman in her 20s goes through different experiences, but also withstands the weight of her life. The man and woman get together to help each other.” The song and the actor’s death gave it so much more….weight.

I too struggled with the weight of life. The pressure of support my family, the stress of adjusting to a post-military career….aging, new aches and pains from my military injuries.

So I barely started the first episode and it’s already heart wrenching. I won’t spoil it, but it was really sad for the main character.

Let’s say he gets betrayed, as I have done to my own marriage. Thankfully, we survived all of that. Somehow.

It will be hard to watch this show, but I will embrace the message and the emotions as with all of my recent favorite K-drama shows.

Fun Bobby

Alternate title: No Booze Day 3.

My father was an alcoholic. His near-fatal stroke at the age of 58 was the “cure”. He dropped out of 7th grade to work in the coal mines. Dad was born in 1914 for reference.

He was also 50 when I was born. So I’m not judging his drinking days. Also he married his co-worker’s widow with 4 children. I would have drank excessively too.

My drinking was a product of the 80’s nightlife. Then from the military. Then from not being in the military. From being a project manager, from not being a project manager….

There is always an “excuse” to drink. I do love a nice cold beer, a deep red glass of wine, a tall pour of honey-infused bourbon…but the problem is, it doesn’t end at one.

Then there is also “I had a day….” or “So and so really pissed me off…” “life sucks…” “I wish I didn’t do this or that…” So again, I get it why drinking is easy and can get out of hand.

So far, I kept it under control. I had some nights, at home, where I had just one too many. I tried making it a rule to not drink on a work night. I’ve had mixed results. But what I do know is, when I don’t drink, and wake up for work, I feel so much better and proud of myself for restraint. Our liquor cabinet is stocked very nicely. So I have proof I can behave and keep myself in-check.

I’ve had to cut down on coffee, so anything is possible.

“Fun Bobby” was one of Monica’s boyfriends on “Friends” and when she confronted him about his drinking problem, he became Sober, Very Dull Bobby. As Monica started to drink to compensate for his sobriety, Fun Bobby left her.

I know I don’t need a drink everyday, for whatever reason. I also need to quit snacking. I’m like the local landfill at night. At this age, shit really does stick to your ribs.

I also tried non-alcoholic beer and it’s pretty good, they really stepped up the taste of them.

One thing I will never let go of is my ice cream, breakfast cereal and shakes. But in moderation. I want to see my waist again.

Drinking to forget or to feel nothing sounds great…but wanting to feel better needs to be done differently. Maybe I will start drinking non-caffeinated tea at night again. Something warm to sip while binge watching TV as I try to forget about the world for a few hours.

Cheers.

No Filter at the bottom of the bottle

My wife is out of town this week. I had all these great plans. Woodworking, catching up with war buddies…maybe some illicit rendezvous…but no.

I sometimes regret sharing this blog with people who actually know me…but no more. This is the ONLY place I can be “real”. Unfiltered, untethered, and free.

I dusted off my favorite Merlot tonight. I binged watched “Mask Girl” on Netflix. (I’m a K-Drama addict)

I think in a strong marriage you get imprinted on that person. Even with the ups and downs….you can’t live without them. I’m a hollow shell without her. All the flirting and secret text messages…with others…I miss her.

Marriage and Love is never perfect.

But if there is something there. The pull…it’s worth fighting for. Or being patient.

As I sit on the back porch in the dark..with the glass slowly draining, I ponder my theory of when my mind got extra screwed up. I’m part of a long and dragged out class action suit concerning Mefloquine. It is now a banned Malaria drug. (Look it up)

I want it to be the ground zero for ALL of my problems. Maybe it is. Maybe is just a few links in my history of trauma.

It would be be nice to blame all my faults, sins and shortcomings on one thing.

Maybe I’m just a borderline jerk/narcissist .

Or just damaged goods.

Maybe acknowledging or admitting to it is a positive step.

I don’t know…and don’t care at all 1:30 in the morning….

It’s the weekend. I get to sleep in. Cheers. I will try to be a better person today.

Try.

All, Some or None

All, Some or None

 

I miss some people a lot, a little, not at all….or AS MUCH AS POSSIBLE.

Yes, that sounds harsh but it’s the way it is.  I joined my High School Alumni page but only to see the old click still trying to grab the spotlight at times.  Or I am seeing the progress of our old building being torn down and feel….nothing.  Nothing at all.  I can barely remember most of my teachers or classes I took.

Someone commented on how The Ramp in the main common area was covered in river gravel at one point.  I have zero memory of that.

It’s kind of sad that is my history there.  Just a grey cloud.  But maybe its also good.  I know some kids “peaked” in High School and never felt that important or noticed outside the classroom door.  Maybe that’s why the shy ones, the underdogs sometimes flourish post-graduation.  Sometimes.

Some are like Uncle Rico in Napoleon Dynamite.  Trying to get that one moment back.

 Other classmates before, during and after my time there are sad and nostalgic about the demolition.

Maybe I would be too if my parents didn’t divorce and I had a “normal” life during that time. But instead I was just trying to get through each day with the promise of graduating and moving forward.  To where?  I had no idea back then.  I just know I would be able to be somewhere else, and eventually out on my own, unburdened.  Do I still blame my parents?  Maybe not.  For it forced me to grow faster and be more independent earlier in life.

I’d say more responsible…but that took longer.  😉

 I now see this trend with a lot of people and things in my life.  My military unit is a huge one.  Once I hit the 15^th anniversary of my retirement, I finally accepted that it’s over and

I could never go back.  I know that wasn’t realistic.  I was just trying to hold onto that momentum and feeling of belonging.  But I started to see the politics, drama, BS, nepotism, dirty back room deals and now…I have let it all go.  (Not the memory of the good things…just those people)  Sadly, some people I actually care about and miss are unfortunately collateral damage.

Because attending an event would involve seeing the “non-gratis people. “ 

 I’ve also worked too hard to adjust to my new “normal” and my work/life balance.  They say to cut toxic people out of your life, and it actually works.  They also say to not let people live Rent Free in your head.

I will never visit some of my old workplaces.  For they all eventually crashed and burned. Toxic culture, horrendous management…etc.  As my best friend would say: “Little Cubicle Empires”.

Even at my current job, they exist.  BUT….I somehow fell into that small niche with the total opposite outcome.  A supportive boss, co-workers and a client who “loves” us.  I also get to use my hands and mind for good and productive purposes.  I’m supporting heroes again.

 My self-imposed exile is necessary.  I’m finally happy, more or less and rediscovering myself finally.

 

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.

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.

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.

The Loneliness of The Now

Last night as my second glass of bourbon kicked in, I felt very lonely. I’m in a rut these past few weeks. Probably because I’m not doing woodworking. It’s that therapeutic for me. The days at work are a blur, I am not even sure what day it is half the time. My good friend would always say: “Wash, Rinse, Repeat” Speaking of my best friend, there was a time I would send her a random text message with no expectations of a timely response. Just to vent, bitch, cry about some misfortune or how depressed I was in my years following retirement from the military. (We served together) She would talk me down, or give advice, or just “nod” in acknowledgement. But she has a full plate with her current boyfriend, health issues, and work challenges. (She had some of that when I would send those messages in a bottle, but didn’t care and was selfish for my own needs) So now…I refrain from sending those text messages. I don’t want to add to any pressure she is currently dealing with. For I have better meds, and “tools” to help me get through the dark times.

Mostly.

I know I have slowly evolved into a shut-in. I’m tired a lot, from sleep issues, chronic pain, the long three months of helping my terminally ill neighbor up until his passing on January 1st….the major house remodel project, and the subsequent remaining “To-Do” list as I try to wrap up the final pieces of the remodel and other things that were placed on hold. My bicep tear/injury last year delayed a lot of things.

Last night, I jumped on the rowing machine and the sharp pain in my repaired arm was eye-opening, disappointing and depressing. I know nothing will be the same, but I was hoping it was feeling better a year later. I guess I didn’t work it back into shape enough. So hopefully 15 minutes on the machine will turn into 20…to 30…etc.

I love my job, it’s just that the slow days become comfortable and then when something does pop-up, I need to nudge myself into action. But it also means we are keeping the equipment running smoothly for a change and reducing downtime for the clients.

I also cant’ believe I’ve been here 7 years. Which is a record after bouncing jobs due to contracts not being renewed, horrendous leadership, or toxic office cultures…or just me having adjustment issues to the outside world.

Over the course of these past 15 years, I’ve built a maze around myself and really don’t have any true good friends. I have great friends….but not that one “Good Friend”. The one who is your ride or die friend. Some days I’m okay about it. Other days, like last night I just wanted to text them and say: “I’m not in a good place right now.” Like I said, I have friends, but I don’t want to come across as needy. I’m pretty honest with people these days about not being perfect….but I don’t want to overstay my welcome. There are limits and boundaries.uly was t

I almost texted my sister (who will probably read this post) and tell her: “Your little brother is not doing so hot.” But thanks to my meds, and the lesson of “Postponement” I know I will be okay in a few hours, or days….and it will get better. And if it doesn’t, I jump on something creative and that helps. Speaking of my sister, I am planning on seeing her for at least a week. Which is only about 40 years overdue.

I thanked her at my military retirement ceremony for when I was 14 years old, I moved in with her up North. To get away from my parent’s messy divorce (which gets mentioned frequently in my stories). There in the beautiful woods, I found peace. I found my reset. I found a healthy perspective.

And realized my Dad probably needs me with him. I stayed with my mother after the divorce as some misconstrued notion of societal norms. But she was the one who ran away with the Devil who chain-smoked and drank cases of beer, weekly. He truly was the Devil. The ultimate user, abuser, liar, narcissist…and anti-Christ. She finally left him and I think he died in some run-down mobile home in an over-grown lot in the middle of no-where. Living with the latest woman who bought his endless bullshit.

Again…this is why the past is a harsh mistress for me. But, now I know I am in a better place.

I have an invisible pull to hit the road, to take a week off and do something fun. I sometimes do take a 3-day weekend for myself, but right now, I manage to make it through each day. Somehow.

I do look forward to getting back to golfing after a 5-year break. With my friends. Who know I’m imperfect, and have some slight knowledge I have a few loose screws. 😉

We are never alone

Part of getting older is reflecting on when we were younger and the path to get to this very moment.

We didn’t take that journey alone. There was a cast of thousands guiding you.

Some gave you a nudge, pointed the way, some may have even knocked you down.
(They count too)

Others picked you up, tended to your wounds and set you back onto the path.

Our teachers, mentors, leaders, friends, pets, parents and especially our loved ones.

We are a sum of all those people. The echoes, although faded, still reverb in your soul.

Part of getting older is understanding to make the most of our time here.
Getting older makes you both patient and impatient.

Tolerance for what you can control, and resist fretting over petty things.

I have recently reconnected with those who helped shaped me growing up.

I thank God for these people in my life. (And to have them see that young wild kid…somewhat…matured) 😉

So in the darkest of times, especially this past year, I smile at the thought that I am never alone.

Thanking Myself For My Service.

They have military appreciation at work in May. Some pizza, jokes and war stories…formal recognition and a pin or something. I do appreciate them doing it. And I really appreciate that they give Veterans 40 hours to use for medical appointments each year.

Which seems to be used a lot these days.

I will pass on participating this year. It’s just a new phase in my life. I wear the obligatory ball cap, got the Retired AF license plate frame to tell the world…look what I did. (It’s no different than a sports team or college frame….). The recent tattoo….

I’m just stepping away from “extra recognition”.
Most Veterans feel awkward when someone thanks them for their service. I do give a nod when I see other veterans out and about. That’s mostly why some of wear the hats…to identify each other. 🙂

I’m just comfortable being…”me” for a change.
I smile at all the memories from my time in uniform.
I also am grateful for how it changed my life.

I’m just laying low a lot more these days.
I’ve done the parades, the welcome home parties…hugged the carpeting…(seriously I use to do that when I got home)

I will, however, still go to Red Robin for that free burger during Veterans Day. And wash it down with that Viking sized glass of beer. ❤️

I’m humble…but a free burger is still awesome. 😜🎉🍺