Willful
Sometimes things just don't work. Soon I'll be back at work. Things change all the time. I look back over the connections I've chosen to keep and ask why now.
I revealed something deeply personal and secret to my counselor the other day. Something I've only told my parents and maybe one other friend who is very dear to me. The only other person that knows about it is dead. When this person died several months ago, I thought about the depth of what he did for me and now I know that he died with that secret. Someone who I had a falling out with, and knew something about me that was very troubling, and he kept that. I'd not told much anyone about it, nor do I plan on it. It's something I've carried for many years, but it bears many questions now that I've actually analyzed it.
When faced with trauma, it's natural to want to cut everything associated with it off. For instance, I can't really remember much from before the 10th grade. I can't remember most of the first half of basic training (less an instance of trauma and more with the lack of sleep & culture shock). I only remember bits and pieces of my time in the Army. I guess I didn't really start making and keeping memories until around 2011, when I became a contractor, got my license... Became someone more than what I am or was, I should say. I don't have a lot of "old friends" per se. Most of my closest comrades are from the last decade. Anyone beyond that scope is usually not as close or I rarely talk to. On top of that, they're generally not people I share a lot of myself with. I know, in my heart, that I could go back to them at any time and discuss things with them, but I also know that I'm not pulled to fellowship with them like other friends who--even now--are talking to me on a near daily basis. Even during a pandemic, I have friends that have called to check on me when they've had "bad feelings," when I'm at my lowest, when I just need someone and they hear me. I can't really explain that kind of connection. But, getting back to the point, much of what I had was cut off. Never have I felt like I couldn't go back to a place or a time, but I also don't feel like it's worth revisiting. Maybe "cut everything off" isn't what I do. It's more like closing a screen door: maybe I can see back to it, maybe it's a bit hazy, it's not hard to go back... But I'd rather not let the air out.
That trauma I faced in the military, I've shared it with my counselor on multiple occasions. I'm almost baffled by his level of understanding and care considering he doesn't have the background I have, but he IS a professional. Most people... don't get it. When I got out there, most people shied away. They ran and hid. It made my anxiety worsen. It made me feel alone, detached from where I knew I needed to be. It made me addicted to being out there--in that--doing that--living that. It's not really living. But I can't expect those people who aren't there to understand. It's not anyone's responsibility, but my own.
So after I shared my story with him, and in another session explained to him how I went back and talked to my soldier about how I felt I failed him and others as a leader... My counselor asked, "Why do you hold on to these connections to something that brings you so much trauma?" He didn't ask me that in a pejorative or critical way; he asked in a way that seemed to surprise him. He said, "The fact that you can form these bonds with people, share your heart with them, be validated, and know that they connect you to a horrible time... yet look past that to the good you have in each other... That's amazing."
And I look back through my life; I haven't forgotten everything. I can see moments in time that made me feel joy and I remember those. And I can go back to those places that hurt me and revel in those moments. Not that I'm still not hurting, and working through these things, but that I can look and realize that these people, moments, and ideas that I DO remember are so strong that they've burned through swaths of time, forgotten locales, and difficult jobs. Kind of like the fireflies in Don't Starve Together: flitting to and fro through the lights to keep myself sane in the darkness. Bad things happen, I've been through bad things, but I've kept these precious connections. And they've kept me.
We all went through hell in the army, we all acknowledge this. For whatever reason, we all still talk. Not just about the terrible times, but the new things we're doing. Our new goals, our politics, our families, our relationships... All of that pain is separated from who they are. My subordinates and peers were not the Army. They didn't hurt me like those other people did. We kept each other over the waves and we didn't drown. And now we're all here.
That person died with my secret. My one regret is that I didn't have the wisdom I have now so that we could have lived as friends.
Just the month of December, I feel like so much has changed in my life in the way that I see and do things. I want to become a more authentic person.