Panic Attacks Part 2
Like I was saying previously, my world was fucked up.
All the negative bullshit this place throws at people finally hit home yesterday when my friend Joe made it off the plane as I greeted him. How or why this shit decided to manifest itself, I don't know but it was like someone opened the fucking floodgates and all this deep-seeded subconscious horseshit came out of the woodworks. Very very ugly.
Joe, aka the Sith Lord as I refer to him is one cool dude. Him and I have thrown down copious amounts of alcohol together, have traveled from one side of Korea to the other, have worked our fucking asses off together here and have done a whole bunch of other shit I won't mention since I know you fuckers read this and if you're smart enough can put 2 + 2 together. Anycase, Sith Lord and I are bona fide friends and nothing will change that, bottom line.
He remembers Korea circa 2001 timeframe, when this place used to still be fun before LtCol Mom and Dad started handing out rules like you were grounded. It wasn't until he had a chance to talk to people and see things for what they truly are that he agreed with my analogy of this place being a prison camp. For the past year I've sent him updates regarding this place through e-mail and he didn't believe that a place renowned for partying, drinking and fucking could become such a gulag in such a short period. Things change.
Anycase, I spilled my guts to Sith Lord and had a talk with a few other people as to why I had an Anxiety Attack outta the blue and how I just need to get the hell outta here once and for all. Better days will never be, and I see the handwriting on the wall for A-Town, Kunsan and pretty much all of USFK. For the most part I'm chilled out and can take the bullshit with a grain of salt. After all, it's all in a day's work.
I think what it boils down to is the fact I haven't been allowed to be myself for the past year due to the assholes that run this place, religious and otherwise. I've had to keep my Death Metal clothing neatly tucked away, my voracious appetite for alcohol, sex and ribald behavior in check also since they're willing to throw the smack down at the slightest infraction. This is definitely NOT the place to draw such attention to yourself by doing these things and now that I have one foot out the door, I realize just how shitty everything has been all along. While I won't point fingers and name specific people, let's just say the problem is bigger than them and it's spanning across the entire Air Force from what I am hearing. While they are just smaller pieces of a much larger puzzle, it's those smaller pieces that make the puzzle what it is.
I'm still tempted to speak to a military chaplain because what I tell them can't be used against me, whereas talking with someone from the Mental Health Clinic gets documented permanently and can be used against you ultimately. As much as I despise the Christians and the like, perhaps they do serve some benefit after all, if I can get a load off my chest without having to listen to their preachy bullshit sermons in return, and have it as a no-holds barred session.
Oh the fun I could have with that.
All the negative bullshit this place throws at people finally hit home yesterday when my friend Joe made it off the plane as I greeted him. How or why this shit decided to manifest itself, I don't know but it was like someone opened the fucking floodgates and all this deep-seeded subconscious horseshit came out of the woodworks. Very very ugly.
Joe, aka the Sith Lord as I refer to him is one cool dude. Him and I have thrown down copious amounts of alcohol together, have traveled from one side of Korea to the other, have worked our fucking asses off together here and have done a whole bunch of other shit I won't mention since I know you fuckers read this and if you're smart enough can put 2 + 2 together. Anycase, Sith Lord and I are bona fide friends and nothing will change that, bottom line.
He remembers Korea circa 2001 timeframe, when this place used to still be fun before LtCol Mom and Dad started handing out rules like you were grounded. It wasn't until he had a chance to talk to people and see things for what they truly are that he agreed with my analogy of this place being a prison camp. For the past year I've sent him updates regarding this place through e-mail and he didn't believe that a place renowned for partying, drinking and fucking could become such a gulag in such a short period. Things change.
Anycase, I spilled my guts to Sith Lord and had a talk with a few other people as to why I had an Anxiety Attack outta the blue and how I just need to get the hell outta here once and for all. Better days will never be, and I see the handwriting on the wall for A-Town, Kunsan and pretty much all of USFK. For the most part I'm chilled out and can take the bullshit with a grain of salt. After all, it's all in a day's work.
I think what it boils down to is the fact I haven't been allowed to be myself for the past year due to the assholes that run this place, religious and otherwise. I've had to keep my Death Metal clothing neatly tucked away, my voracious appetite for alcohol, sex and ribald behavior in check also since they're willing to throw the smack down at the slightest infraction. This is definitely NOT the place to draw such attention to yourself by doing these things and now that I have one foot out the door, I realize just how shitty everything has been all along. While I won't point fingers and name specific people, let's just say the problem is bigger than them and it's spanning across the entire Air Force from what I am hearing. While they are just smaller pieces of a much larger puzzle, it's those smaller pieces that make the puzzle what it is.
I'm still tempted to speak to a military chaplain because what I tell them can't be used against me, whereas talking with someone from the Mental Health Clinic gets documented permanently and can be used against you ultimately. As much as I despise the Christians and the like, perhaps they do serve some benefit after all, if I can get a load off my chest without having to listen to their preachy bullshit sermons in return, and have it as a no-holds barred session.
Oh the fun I could have with that.
posted by Machine at 9:50 AM
2 Comments:
Thanks man. Perhaps a hooker and a bottle of booze is what I really need to get back on track. Thankfully there's the Chicken Ranch just outside of Reno that takes plastic. A weekend jaunt up there sounds about right.
But now that I think about it you're right - it's like the AF does have it all down to a science and when someone does blow a gasket they're ready to sort shit out. It's like they anticipate that sooner or later the stress and bullshit they generate will break the majority of people down like it's part of some grand design. I'm starting to see a much bigger picture in all of this, even as seasoned as I am. There is always some new aspect or different angle I've been unaware of previously.
Thanks for pointing that out.
Or just to break you. I've dealt with those kinds in leadership before too.
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