Being static... it's far from electric.

[geopilot]

So journal, lets have another brain dump. This time I hope I don't come across as someone with a pile of #firstworldproblems.

So I last wrote here back in July 2010, some 2 years ago. I guess I need the therapy of a journal sporadically at best, and I am hindered by my own inability to wear my emotions or bare thoughts on my sleeve. And as I currently sit in my psychological professional waiting room (I'll explain in a minute), I have come to realise that my general cowardice towards being truthful about how I feel is the real elephant in the room of my life.

Anyway, here is a précis of that life since July 2010, which will act as a bit of an introduction:

• As it says in my last post, in July 2010 I had just finished working for the Admiral and had started flying training on the Merlin Mk1 at Culdrose.
• Culdrose became my new spiritual home. 
• My friend base amassed greatly. Being on 824 Squadron was like being in a hot mix of 'friends against the machine'. It was a love/ hate relationship, which strengthened and weakened us. We gelled and found that, if we worked together we could beat the system.
• I indeed went on holiday to see Liz. We went down to Orlando Florida to (essentially) spend as much time as possible in Harry Potter World. It was a great trip!
• Returning to Culdrose also meant returning to 824. The system continued to be a depressing, loathing system that was all about development by berating. In a typical day you would be expected to be utterly professional whilst instructors stripped you back to your bare bones and displayed them for all and sundry to inspect. A hateful form of instruction where emotions would rise and fall like the tides. Tears of depression and joy were hard to distinguish. Anger became something I grew to understand, and loathing of certain people was something I grew to hate about myself, which is not healthy.
• I went on a wonderful skiing holiday to Mayrhofen in Austria for New Year. Such a great holiday with some great friends.
• Again, the course continued, the system was against us but we continued to progress and the light at the end of the tunnel started to emerge.
• I again went to Boston to see Liz for the summer. This time we went over to Las Vegas for a few days, which was EPIC! Bumped into loads of Navy peeps, which was random. Its one of those places where you think life is just what you can sign for on a receipt. Very delusional. I like it ;o)
• Hurricane such'n'such meant that I couldn't return to the UK on time and, instead, I had an extra week in Boston at the expense of Virgin Atlantic (very kind!). I was therefore a week late returning to 824, such a shame.
• I returned to, the final stages, the final sprint, the run to the finishing line section of the course. We had a month onboard ship doing embarked flying ops off Scotland and lots of tactical flights out of Culdrose. We were counting down the flights until wings (graduation), which were due in November.
• I had 2 sorties to go. The end was in sight. I knew that, one way or another, I was going to get out of 824 soon, and this spurred me on.
• What then happened, I could never predict. One evening at work, I fell down a wet set of external stairs. Next thing I know, I'm waking up in an ambulance with a splitting headache. A CT scan and a paracetamol later, I am sent back from hospital with instructions to rest. I had had a mild head trauma (concussion).
• Devastation. Disbelief. Desolation. Fear. Anger. Accountability? Confusion. What next? What now? What do I do? What... do... I... do... ?
• The doctors tell me I cannot fly for 6 months. There is no flying training in 6 months on the Merlin Mk1. What do I do? The answer at the time? Go away, get better, once I have my flying medical status back, it will be decided.
• I am sent to HMS Raleigh. It is a base just across the river in Cornwall from Plymouth where Baby sailors come to do their Phase 1 training for 10 weeks before heading off to their respective Phase 2 training establishments to train in their specialization. 
• The job I am given is essentially as a teacher. A mentor. The boss of a Division who is accountable to the Commander of Training for the suitable instruction of upto 130-odd recruits. Quite a responsible job. Again, stressful but a different type of stress to what I'm used to. It’s fun, worthwhile and interesting while also being dull, groundhog-day-ish and over-run with bureaucracy! 
• Over Easter I went with Mum and Dad to Dubai to visit my sister after she moved there to take up a job in HR with Emirates, the airline. A lovely place, but I am unsure whether I could live there. It is very 2 faced, professing to be devout Islamist, and yet letting alcohol, pork, promiscuity and greed run wild! 
• The job at Raleigh continues, I look after 85-odd Saudi Arabian Officer Cadets whilst studying English at Raleigh's English School. An interesting experience which made me somewhat bitter about Saudi Arabia and its culture. The Cadets themselves were a mix of spoilt brats, rising stars and lay abouts. They aren't in my Navy, so I did my best with them and worked to rule.
• Over this Summer I spent a week in London during the Olympics. I took Mum and Dad to see Murray win at the Men’s final of the Tennis, which is probably a once in a lifetime experience (a Brit wins at Wimbledon?? Whoa??). A great week where I saw London in the best spirit I have ever known it to. 
• I then returned to Dubai to visit my sister during which time we went to the Seychelles for a few days during Eid (the end of Ramadan, their equivalent of Easter at the end of Lent). With Helen working for Emirates, the family now enjoys cheap travel, and in Business Class ;o) I therefore approve of her appointment ;o)
• I am now writing this back at HMS Raleigh, getting ready to start the Autumn Term of training for the Phase 1 Recruits.

So that wasn't a very short précis (but then 2 years of life is hard to condense!).

So how do I feel. Like I said, I find it hard to wear emotions on my sleeve, so I guess a journal is the only way I can really let it out.

I feel a bit lost. I feel a bit sad. I feel a bit cut adrift. I feel as though what was a 'life plan' as written by the flying training system has been ripped up by an unfortunate accident occurrance and, as such, I have no idea what I am doing. THis feeling of no direction is alien to me. It has made me quite self distructive.

I say self destructive. I am not STUPID!! I mean in all entirely legal means. Drinking to excess. Partying too much. Spending money I don't have. I am looking to 'fixes' and legal 'highs' in order to give me short-term rushes and bouts of excitement.

Nothing about what I am doing right now leaves me feeling fulfilled. I am off track, or rather derailled.

After the accident, I was an emotional mess. I literally grieved the end of what was and became fearful and worried about what lay ahead. I was unsure what the Navy would do with me. I was unsure where I would be sent or if I would even have a job.

As it stands at the moment, I still have no definitive answer as to where my future lies. The likely course is to remain here at Raleigh until Christmas-time/ the New Year, then return to Culdrose for some basic 'aviation' courses (to refresh my knowledge) and then restart my OCU, this time on the Merlin Mk2, the new Merlin variant' in the Autumn of 2013. This would see me returning to the career point of when I had the accident some 3 years later. THREE YEARS ADRIFT!

...and it's thinking about those 3 years of drifting which makes the 'sadness' envelop me. Are those 3 years wasted? Am I effectively in a dead end job with no promotion prospects? (Navy politics comes into that argument, too dull to outline). Can I be better used and 'reach a potential' if I did something else?

Should... I... leave... the... Navy... ? *sharp intake of breath*

Well, as it stands, I have a job. I get paid monthly. I have a path to follow. I have something to do day-to-day. I have responsibilities. Do I have the right to complain about all that when so many others earn a lot less or do not even have employment? To that argument I say, think about this parallel scenario. Do a degree for 4 years. Then imagine producing a single copy, with no backup, of your dissertation and start walking to hand it in. Imagine now being hit by a car and dropping said dissertation into a river, never to be seen again. Not only are you hurt and in no position to write that dissertation again, but also those 4 years of your life are now wasted. By the time you are able to write it again, you will have forgotten everything and will probably have to do A LOT of studying again just to get yourself up to the same standard to write it.

Could you do it? Or would you be so demoralised to stand at the foot of that mountain you had very nearly reached the peak of and think of the climb ahead of you, that you think 'sod it, I'll climb that mountain instead'.

And thats the basis of how I'm feeling right now. I just feel as if I have climbed the mountain without the closure of being able to say 'I reached the top' and now I am being asked to climb it again. *woe*

Anyway, I am about to head out with some friends into Plymouth (partying and drinking to excess is calling me!). One of said friends is off to sea until February, so it will be a bit of a 'farewell' do. I will write a separate post about that friend as he brings out some other emotions which could also do with being vented.

TTFN x