Strong language (for mature audiences only). Reader discretion is advised.
2009, Afghanistan
I sat alone in the female shower tent. I had rigged the interior door handle with a rubber resistance band, so that no one would be able to walk in and disturb my solitude. I turned on the shower, to drown out my noises. I sat on the bench as I crumbled into tears, gasping for air in-between sobs, not knowing why I was suddenly unraveling.
I had developed a crush on a Military Police Soldier from the Texas Army National Guard. He was a tall, strong, honest, hard-working, brown-haired, brown-eyed beauty who I had discovered in the jail facility, at work. He stood out to me, among so many other male Soldiers, when I caught him quietly line-dancing on the job. I wanted a relationship with him, but the thought of emotional and physical intimacy with anyone, suddenly engulfed me with sheer terror and panic.
What the hell was going on? I was falling apart, and it was NOT okay to fall apart in a combat zone. My job required me to keep my shit together.
As a Military Police Soldier in the California Army National Guard, while performing Detainee Operation duties in the jail facility, I had developed a cold, tough shell. I had witnessed disturbing images and suffered such hatred, anger and humiliating treatment from the prisoners, my superiors and my fellow Soldiers – that I simply couldn’t feel anything, anymore. I had been pushed far beyond my limits, to the point where I became numb and didn’t – couldn’t — care about anyone. My sole objective was to complete my duties and SURVIVE this unforgiving environment until I made it home, without ending up dead or in jail myself.
It’s been 10 years since that day in the shower tent, and occasionally the unsuspecting waves of terror and panic still come crashing from behind. They throw me off-balance and I clumsily plummet face-first into piles of sand — crunching between the crevices of my teeth and choking the back of my throat. I crave love but push it away. RUN! RUN! RUN! Find cover in a cement bunker where it’s safe so I can’t feel any pain! I’m safe, Mom…I’m safe…..
But it’s dark in here and I can’t feel any joy, either.