Without a Map

Sharing my past has never been easy for me, but I've begun to understand that the work we're doing now is rooted in the contrast of where we've come from.
When I was released from the military in 2014, I remember feeling lost. The culmination of a four-year battle—both physically and mentally—left me struggling to find my place in an organization I no longer fit the arcs of. The haze of years spent on sleeping medications, antidepressants, and sedatives started to lift, revealing a world I didn't recognize anymore.  I'd physically run and marched my body into a state of disability I couldn't simply walk off.
The final day of my 15-year military career was spent leaning against an orderly desk. Not being marched out by my unit, not given a departure with dignity. Rather, the three hollow thumps of a pay clerk's stamp.

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