Going to war gave me many things to write about. The most
intimate writing happened while I was lying on my bed in my wonderful
containerized house unit (chu). I was lucky to have a chu and all that fit in
it. I had a bed with a mattress, a TV, a microwave, and a little fridge. I was
living it up. What follows are journal entries I wrote while in my chu around Thanksgiving 2010.
Inside Outside
12NOV2012 2100
I’m so
emotional. For as long as I can remember I have been the quiet observer. The
one who sits back feeling incredibly self-conscious and wonders what everyone
thinks about me. This is a very unfortunate trait. Uncomfortable in my
surroundings because I lack self-confidence; it’s hard to wrap my mind around
it. At times I have been unordinarlly motivated and ambitious. Yet at the same
time I question my value and hide behind a pseudo personality of who I want to
represent. My personality shifts with the environment I’m in. It’s quite rare
for people to be able to break my shell to where I'm able to let them in. Those who have, never leave my heart. Unless of course, I've been wronged. In which I case I struggle to tame the stinger of my Scorpio personality.
As a child,
I can’t recall anyone in particular who has been able to conquer such a
mountain. In fact, the memories I have are of people who had the opposite effect
on my character. This could largely be because I was so distant from the world.
So eager to be loved, but so afraid to seek it; perhaps it was the eagerness
that instilled fear. Fear that I never was, and never would be, equal. Fear
that I was destined to be secluded from love. So much so that I would sit with
a group of kids and envy their every thought and purpose. Why they were so much
more than I could ever be wasn’t a question back then. It was envy. I accepted
the lack of guidance, the worthless person I was. Yet, I still wondered what it
would be like to feel more. To have a better understanding of what a family
meant. I never understood why my friend's parents put so much effort into what
they did. I mean, why would they care how school was, what they ate for lunch or
did in gym class? Was the importance of these activities given more thought
because their children were just naturally better people, better eggs? I was
sure I was a bad egg and maybe the voice of bad eggs wasn’t
important enough for anyone to pay attention to.
While I
felt this through much of my childhood, I eventually grew into a more resentful
person. The first time I realized I could stick up for myself, that I wasn’t
just a punching bag, my world changed. Rather than be the punching bag, I
could be the one throwing the punches.
12NOV2010 2030
The announcement, with the
distinctive male voice “Incoming, Incoming, Incoming”, halts every thought,
emotion and feeing. I stay frozen, knowing there is nothing I can do. If a
mortar hits my chu, it will hit. Better yet, if it’s my time, it’s my time –it
just is. Fear races through my mind. I jump to the corner of my bed squeezing
my teddy as the loud roaring sound of the C-RAM goes off. Hoping that it hits
the mortar before it blows within proximity of my chu. The sound, I will never
forget. It’s like a giant chain saw roaring right outside my chu. Tears form, I
squeeze my teddy harder. As if I had my ruby slippers… more tears form. I don’t
want to feel this place, this war anymore!
Another
announcement, which I can barely make out, is telling all personnel to stay
away from XX Pod in H6 housing. I can’t make out which pod it is… I live in H6
housing.
14NOV2010 2100
So many
things are racing through my mind. None of which seem to be gaining distance on
the other. As I try to convince myself to drink some more NyQuil and end this
emotionally draining day, I’m also trying to convince myself to stay awake so I
don’t have to repeat it all over again.
I question,
now more than ever, the validity of why men rule this military world. Women are
packed with sensitivity, care, and love for so many things. Men are content
with simplicity and their ego induced personas. As a woman it becomes so much
more trying to put emotion and passion on the back burner. Yet, for men,
contentment seems to be all they need. That and their ego filled competitive
values. That is exactly what you get when you put so many men together… a
simple task where each try to show the other up to see who comes out ahead.
Once the score is settled, all is normal.
Now, take
this world, ego drunken atmosphere, and add a formidable female and nothing is
simple or content. Rather, it creates havoc. Men don’t know how to act around
women, especially if she is intelligent and beautiful. Some try to undermine
her character so as to try to prove they are better and stronger. Others try to show up their fellow men to appear dominant. Some try
to dominate her. The ones who don’t have a clue, simply act like children and
do childish things. All of this is especially challenging to live in. I crave
good unbiased conversation but they are few and far between. I try to
understand why it is so difficult for men to have conversations about real
things and true feelings. Of course not all men are like this. However, when
you have so many men in one place or environment, real conversations involving
real feelings is very remote or null. “Real” men know that it's okay to show emotions. Because they are smart enough to realize that a
human mind needs more than contentment and competition. The mind needs compassion, understanding, and acceptance. Neither of which are commonly found in a war zone.
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