About 4 1/2 years ago when I was still single and living on my own I had a huge scare. It was just my son and I living in Arizona. My family relationship was par for the course, I had no man in my life, and very few friends living near. This sense of alienation was made worse by the people I worked with. I was constantly informed of my many short comings no matter who was in charge of me and I felt set up for failure more often than necessary. To put this all together, I felt alone.
Feeling alone is the worst feeling. It didn't matter that people were around or that I was loved, I couldn't see it or feel it. I was constantly sick, and if you don't believe in a mind-body connection, you should pay more attention... It's more real than the ground we walk on. I couldn't sleep, and when I did I had vivid and scary dreams. The empty feeling I constantly felt left me exhausted and constantly on edge.
In 2009 I went in for my annual exam and my doctor felt something in my left breast that didn't seem right. I didn't want to tell anyone because honestly I didn't think they would care. I am certain the chronic stress from being a single mom, soldier and student combined with the lack of sleep made me less emotionally reasonable. What if it was legitimate? What if I was sick? Who would take care of my son if I died? Finally, who other than my son would miss me? As I write this it seems insane to me. Who cares if I would be missed? I would be dead, I wouldn't know the difference. Really, I just felt like I had a wasted life, and the one miraculous thing I did was have my son and he needed me. I didn't have the option to be sick.
I let myself just go numb, set up my appointment for my mammogram and waited. The day finally came, I went into the office, put on my little goofy half gown put my boob on that cold metal slab and passed out. No, she hadn't started the squishing process, I just felt the metal, then all of a sudden my heart started pounding, ears started to ring, I saw black spots in from of my eyes I felt sweat beading up on my face and I was out. I know, I went into Iraq, rode in soft sided vehicles with my weapon poking out for "protection" without freaking out and I passed out at the thought of having a lump that could be cancerous. It makes sense though, it's easier to cope with the danger when the enemy is defined, impersonal, and outside of me, not my own body turning against me.
In the end all was fine, it was just the way I'm made, but I shared this story for a reason. I have had some reminders lately that life is short (I know, it's the longest thing we ever do, but we are a blip on the radar of the world) and it is unpredictable. I know I am not the only Soldier who feels this way, and by "this way" I mean alone. We move from place to place leaving people we love behind wherever we go. Every time we move it is an adventure, but we never know how it will be. I have been treated very well at some places and horribly in others. No rhyme or reason to it. When you are AGR I don't believe we have the same benefits as active Soldiers as I remember. They have much stronger support systems set up, and there aren't any reservists who are all from the area you now just moved to. That means they often have a connection of friends and family we don't have. Translation: they have a life, we have what and who we bring.
I keep asking myself why am I wanting to write about my experience so badly? I need a community. I adore my husband, and my son, but they can't be my girlfriends. That would be weird and inappropriate. I also want other women in similar positions to know they aren't alone and I hope I can do that at least for one person.
We all struggle. I say this more for myself because I forget sometimes other people struggle. It's easy to forget that when you're scared of being alone and your life not mattering other people may feel the same way. Today I am fairly healthy, I haven't had a serious health scare for almost three years now (I used to be in the ER once every 3-6 months), and I'm happy. I do want to do more with my life though, because I want to make a difference no matter how small. Being in the Army is a job, a career for me, and one I chose for many reasons, but it doesn't make me feel like I am truly giving back to the people that support me directly by their work with Soldier programs, or indirectly by being tax-paying citizens.
Finally, I want to say this, having a wonderful and supporting husband is a huge help, but it was more than that to make me well again. I did a lot of internal work, I knew there were many things about my life that needed to change. I also learned that falling on my backside only bruised a little, it didn't ruin me. If I had not been willing to face down my own personal demons and work on myself I know for a fact I wouldn't have this wonderful and supporting husband. Other people cannot heal us, they can only support us when we are ready to heal ourselves.
