Mental Health Symptoms: I Wish They Had Known

 

Mental[JJ1]  Health Symptoms: I Wish They Had Known

 

            Things were not going well for me. I tried to find my way by going to college, working, training to be a firefighter – but nothing fit. And then – 9/11 happened and my desire to do something for my wounded country emerged. The best way for me to respond was to join the Army. That direction would be a good fit.

So, I headed off to basic training; it was a grueling yet satisfying experience. The structure and comradery were a welcomed addition to my life. After graduation from basic and advanced training, I felt a deep sense of satisfaction and pride. The other privates in my platoon were like family. Unlike the National Guard privates who had trained with us, the soldiers in the “real army,” like me, were “shipped” off to their first duty stations. My first assignment resulted in a one-way ticket to southern California and Fort Irwin in the Mojave Desert. Leaving my graduation at Fort Knox, I became emotional as my parents drove me to the Louisville Airport. It hit me that I would never see the guys who had become like family. We did a U turn and returned to the post so I could say “goodbye” and wish all of my “buddies” all the best. We were all headed towards an uncertain future.

The Mojave Desert was a different world. I was a whole continent away from my home in Richmond, Virginia. Where I had once looked out on the green hills, I now looked out on the barren desert. Making friends in this new place seemed more difficult for me than at anytime in my life. I felt very lonely, and the remoteness of Fort Irwin created in me a feeling of isolation that I had never experienced before. I grew lonelier every day, until I finally slipped into depression. My new duty station was a letdown from learning how to be a soldier at Fort Knox. Unfortunately, beer and cigarettes became my therapy and escape from reality.

            The comradery experienced in basic training was nowhere to be found. I did my best to keep up with the physical training but struggled with the duties of a soldier, like ironing my uniform and shaving in the field. Along with these problems, I began to isolate myself, even more, and my fellow soldiers wanted nothing to do with me, not even giving me a ride to our workplace. I really wanted to be a good soldier, but no one was willing to help me. They made it clear I was not welcomed.

            Finally, one day the other soldiers showed their disdain for me by subjecting me to a hazing incident where I was duct taped into a fetal position. After that incident, I became a different person. This is when my mental health symptoms emerged in full force. My world split into delusional reality and the real world that other soldiers lived in. These two worlds were constantly competing with each other. Part of my delusional world told me that I had special powers and I thought I could make eye contact and communicate through my brain.

            After that hazing experience, my mental health began a steep downward spiral. I acted erratically, and I thought I knew what the other soldiers were thinking so I repeated their thoughts aloud which caused them to think I was acting out and being difficult. Now I know that this was the first signs of what would be later diagnosed as schizophrenia. Thinking my “special powers” could help the Army, and I could be a valuable asset, I visited an office with a sign that said, “Mental Health.”  

            I saw the sign when a random person was driving me to work. Even though I thought I had special powers, I thought the soldiers in there could direct me to where I needed to be so my “special powers” could be used. Maybe they would send me some place else where I would fit in.

            In the Mental Health office, the people in charge sat me down at a computer to do an online test of multiple choice questions. As I was taking the test, my delusions made me think that spirits were flying all around me. I thought the spirits were helping me with the test, so I answered affirmatively to a question about visual hallucinations. After the conclusion of the tests, the specialist told me, with a surprised look on his face, that I likely had schizophrenia and I would need to go to Balboa Naval Hospital which was several hours away.

            The soldiers in mental health sent me to the Naval hospital where I felt relaxed because I did not have to hold my guard up. I remember sleeping very well at the hospital because I felt safe and did not have to defend myself from the other soldiers who did not understand what I was going through. At the Naval hospital, the diagnosis of schizophrenia was confirmed. No one from my duty station at Fort Irwin contacted me directly while I was there except when it was time to go back to Fort Irwin.

            When I returned from the psyche ward to my duty station, my superiors put me in sick bay. I was the only one there. It was as if they thought my mental illness was contagious and could be transmitted to the other soldiers. I was not seen by a doctor during this time, but I was given pills which I did not take. I still did not think I had a mental illness, but I assumed the Army was trying to find a way to kick me out in disgrace. I was given a new assignment as the janitor for headquarters. I still had no contact with the other soldiers, and I did not understand what was going on. I decided to talk to the post commander which was a bigger deal than it sounds considering I was just a private. I told him I had been diagnosed with schizophrenia and I wanted to go home. This was the first time I admitted to having schizophrenia, and even then, I still thought I had special powers. The commander agreed, and I went through out processing where I got a certificate of Honorable Discharge which I thought was important so I could get my veteran benefits. The Honorable Discharge also told me that, in spite of the enemies I had made, my service was honorable. I do not think my fellow soldiers, or the authorities agreed with the honorable discharge. I did not care because I would never see them again. After that I drove cross country back to Richmond, Virginia with my Honorable Discharge sitting beside me on the passenger seat. All the way home I was experiencing voices, delusions, and hallucinations.

Those experiences are in the past, but I often wonder, what would have happened if those in charge had recognized that my erratic behaviors were due to mental health issues. Instead of reducing my pay and assigning extra duties I wish they had immediately recognized I was not just acting out, but I was struggling with my mental health. Those with authority should be trained to recognize when a soldier is self-isolating and experiencing the symptoms of mental illness. Those soldiers in the Mojave Desert did not see the real me. They saw a soldier who was insubordinate and acting out in numerous ways. No one ever bothered to ask “why.” Rather, they took my behavior personally instead of trying to look for causes. They wanted to punish me rather than help me. I did not fit the model of a good soldier, and they did not understand why I could not learn how to be compliant. I, on the other hand, was in turmoil. I desperately needed help, but no one around me knew how to recognize a person who was in a mental health crisis.

            Recognizing my symptoms and providing help or support would have been a better alternative. When I was in the desert, I thought everyone was against me. After dealing with my shenanigans, those in charge wanted to make sure I was punished. Sometimes people cannot manage life and deserve a mental health refuge instead of punishment. Doing so could save the person’s life. No one gave me that option. Thankfully, I referred myself and began a journey to recovery. Consistently taking my medications, seeing psychiatrists regularly, and constantly questioning what is real and what is not have allowed me to experience days where my symptoms are managed. I have a dedicated support team and a daily routine that further help me to live a normal life.

            I sincerely hope that my experience is the exception, and not a common occurrence in the military today. Writing this account has been very enlightening for me. I learned I can be satisfied with my past—I did everything I could to make my military experience a success. My mental illness diagnosis was not my fault. I have learned much about mental illness and forgiveness. However, everyone, no matter what their position in life should take it upon themselves to learn about the signs and symptoms of mental illness. Afterall, one in four of us will be affected by mental illness, so we have an obligation to understand and offer help as we are able.



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