My Journey

So, I started this blog a long time ago, but up untill now, it's been empty. I didn't know what to put in it. But after discovering I have most of the symptoms known for PTSD, I think I need to do this for me. ven if no one reads this, in one year, I will have somethin to come back too and be like, "Oh yeah, now I remember!"

Yes, I have the memory of a fish. 3 seconds long. Super frustrating! My mind likes to block out random things in my day to day life (some which I need to remember, some which just frustrate me). So let me tell you where it all began, rather that starting in the middle, and jumping around like a crazy la... wait.

I was 20, fresh out of college with my AAS and I wanted to rule the world! Funny, I know, but I was 20. My Mom wanted me out of the house (and I wanted to get out) and so my natural instinct was to go Navy! May 16th, 2001 I flew from Houston, TX all the way up to Chicago, IL. 8 weeks later, I was a bonafide Sailor! I went off to my first ship, the USS The Sullivans (DDG 68) where I would spend 5 straight years. I went on 2 different deployments with tht ship, the first in February 2002. I was 21, young, and trying to become a woman. That's where everything started.

This is kind of hard to talk about, but we were attacked while in the North Arabian Gulf by pirates. They were dumping oil in the ocean, and we thought they were broken down till we saw this little dhow boat and some Arabs pouring the stuff over the side (like we couldn't see it!). It was probably illegal, they were trying to illegally smuggle it into some country. But what I don't remember is them shooting at me, and my bestie Joy (who does remember it). We were standing there on the bridge wing, reporting what they were doing, about to turn over the watch, and bam, gun fire! Of course we dropped down to the deck like crazy lady's, but don't ask me what happened after that!

Another thing I had forgotten about (in fact I don't remember much of my first deployment at all...) was how they would seal the ship up air tight, and leave us seamen out on the bridgewings as lookouts as we went through some mysterious "clouds" of whatever chemical. They would watch us and see if we lived or died. Since we obviously lived, they would open the ship back up like normal. Talk about being expendable, huh?

So this, along with the endless mental abuse from my male 'leaders', and sometimes physical abuse, as well, has all compounded on my brain, and whala, I have PTSD. Let me say that I have not yet been formally diagnosed with anything other than depression, but as I continue on my hopefully daily (if I can remember!) journey with this blog, you will come to see what my life is like. I hope this journey has a good outcome, with a good diagnoses, and the road to healing begins. But there is no cure for PTSD, only lifelong therapy, and group chats, and medicine.