Thread by @Ryen_Mac

The untold story of why I left active duty Army service:
In 2013 I came back from Afghanistan. I spent time in in-patient care to recover from trauma shortly after. My leadership read me my Article 15 demoting me, stripping me of my sergeant stripes, while I was in the psych ward

I was in no position to stand up for myself. I didn't. One person stood up for me. He's the only reason my punishment wasn't worse. I promised myself I would never work for toxic leadership again. It almost killed me for a power trip & someone's promotion. That's not why I served

I had planned on serving for 20 years. I was good at being a soldier. I loved leading and helping others grow. But I spoke out against the wrong person in a position of power, and an already stressful deployment, became torturous. I couldn't breathe. I became hopeless. Helpless.

I lost everything. My drive. My motivation. My values. My identity. A stranger reflected back at me in the mirror... That stranger thrashed like a person drowning, seeking to gain hold of anything to help her survive. To make life worth living.

I made some bad decisions during that darkness. I admit it. I own that. There are reasons, true, but no excuses. These bad decisions are what eventually led to my demotion. What wasn't true, was the existence of my errors at the time I was being accused of them. That came later.

That came after the rumors and betrayal. That came after those that knew better stood silent and did nothing. That came after my leader, up for promotion, set about trying to destroy my credibility for daring to speak to her about the morale of the soldiers and their fear of her.

Months of 18-20 hour days, of rumors and fights, of negative performance reviews for insubordination and of walking on eggshells, months of dealing with personal matters at home leading to the prison sentence of a pedophile, dealing with the death of a friend killed in action

Whose memorial I was ordered to "keep my composure at because I was a sergeant", months of being ridiculed, written up, and ostracized for seeking mental health counseling, months of trying to find SOMEONE, ANYONE, who would see the absolute shit that was going on.

I reached the end of my rope. I had nothing left. I had given everything I had. I was burnt out. A shell of what I once was, what I once had to give. I stared down the barrel of my rifle before I placed it beneath my chin, thumb on the trigger. A stray thought crossed my mind...

My best friend. Just one more call. That call saved my life. My best friend had gone home before me. We'd met out there and quickly become close. We were going through similar issues. Solidarity.
I didn't tell him this was goodbye, just that I was feeling rough. He talked to me

He told me about me. About what I brought to others. How I helped them grow. How I helped HIM grow and get through his 'Dear John' letter. He called me sunshine and told me not to lose that smile... I already had. But. He gave me what I needed to get through one more day

And then I got through another. I started working out a lot. Got down to a size 2, 135lbs. Lean and muscled. And finally, I made it back home. But I was still in so much pain. Every day, torture. Fighting against my own mind telling me the pain could all end. That I could end it.

Finally, I said those words that are so hard to say. I told my platoon sergeant that I was afraid of driving in to work every morning, that every trip was a struggle, as my mind told me I could just swerve, I could close my eyes and release the wheel. and I just couldn't fight it

What followed was a stay in the psych ward, a demotion, 2 years in therapy, enlistment into the Army Reserves, where I served 6 years (ish), and have now finished my contract on, and 7 years of rebuilding and learning to love myself.

We all have a story. This is a piece of mine. It was painful. But I am who I am today because of those experiences. We are the sum of our experiences. We have setbacks. But that doesn't have to be the end of our story. We can choose our own adventure.
#overcomeadversity #veteran

I should mention a couple of relevant things:
1) I had a security clearance. I kept it. I had a periodic review of that clearance, it was renewed. Seeking help did not make me lose my clearance. The key was being honest about what happened and owning my own part of it.

2) At first, I saw the chaplin. I'm not religious, but I needed someone to talk to and chaplin discussions are protected. I was worried about my clearance. But I was in a really bad spot. I needed more help than just talking to someone in confidence.

And when I finally said the words, I got the helped I needed. I got a chance to reboot. Just that little step away - even with one of the most painful things happening to me, losing the symbol of all my hard work - gave me what I needed to keep going and rebuild.