What do you do?
July 13th is coming soon. That was the day I was supposed to become a sailor. I'll never be able to join those ranks and earn that title. I left Great Lakes, IL last Friday. I was given an Entry Level Medical Separation. I really don't want to go into why I was separated. I was in separation for about 3 weeks while I was waiting for my turn to go home. Separations was much worse than basic training itself. They were not kidding when they said, the easiest way out of bootcamp is 8 weeks.
During my time in SEPs I had plenty of time to think. I learned a great deal of patience while there. It's definitely a virtue not often had and even less often appreciated. During my time I let my mind meander and I put those thoughts to pen and paper.
Now that I am out, I am back to being a civi. For the first time in my life I have failed terribly at something. I don't enjoy this feeling at all. The past few days, I've felt as if I was on the tip of my toes on a precipice, calling out for someone to help me... someone to hold me, someone to let me know that everything is going to be alright. Alas, just like those times when my ex used to beat the crap out of me, like the time my ex silently committed suicide in our bed as I slept, like the time I sold myself to put food in my mouth; no one was there.
Luckily for me, I'm a survivor. Like a cockroach nothing can kill me, save for me. I've learned how to do things and cope with life's messes on my own. This time, though, I don't want to. It would be nice for once, to have someone there for me. I really don't feel the support from those whom love me.
OH well, time to move on. Time to pick up the pieces and stop feeling sorry for yourself, Kev.
During my time in SEPs I had plenty of time to think. I learned a great deal of patience while there. It's definitely a virtue not often had and even less often appreciated. During my time I let my mind meander and I put those thoughts to pen and paper.
Now that I am out, I am back to being a civi. For the first time in my life I have failed terribly at something. I don't enjoy this feeling at all. The past few days, I've felt as if I was on the tip of my toes on a precipice, calling out for someone to help me... someone to hold me, someone to let me know that everything is going to be alright. Alas, just like those times when my ex used to beat the crap out of me, like the time my ex silently committed suicide in our bed as I slept, like the time I sold myself to put food in my mouth; no one was there.
Luckily for me, I'm a survivor. Like a cockroach nothing can kill me, save for me. I've learned how to do things and cope with life's messes on my own. This time, though, I don't want to. It would be nice for once, to have someone there for me. I really don't feel the support from those whom love me.
OH well, time to move on. Time to pick up the pieces and stop feeling sorry for yourself, Kev.