Diary of a Sailor

Sitting in the liberty center at Naval Station Kitsap, longing for something on the internet to take me away, the loneliness begins creep in. As the hours pass, the dark haze slowly fills up the crevasses of my mind. I can feel it, It’s not just an emotion, its physical. A weight that hangs on my soul. I had it together. I felt strong, capable.

I take a careful glance around at the patrons near me. To my left, a young guy chatting with friends on what I assume is TeamSpeak. Short laughs between pauses of silence. He says something smart, funny and chuckles. Then more silence. To my right, another young fellow, fell asleep playing portable game system, playstation maybe. I don't keep up with that stuff anymore. Behind me, another young man playing a game on a laptop, and another hunched over his phone. Others are sitting around the room out of my view, on laptops, or just watching tv. In the laundry room nearby, I hear something that sounds like a heavy coat spinning in the dryer. Around the rest of the liberty center, young sailors are all doing the same thing. Keeping occupied, mostly here by themselves. Up on the center of the tables stands a friendly stuffed snowman holding a sign that reads, "Happy Holidays."

I reported to the ship yesterday, for the second time in my career. The fact that it’s the same ship doesn't matter. My friends are all transferred long ago, just like I was. I'm in a different department than last time, so it’s like a whole new ship. I had a hotel last night, but today I moved all my things onboard. They barely fit. I threw some things away. One thing I'm not good at is consolidating. I'm a bit of a hoarder. Not of broken things, just, things. I was barely able to pack a 4-day carry-on bag last week, but I digress. My rack, I made with some pride. Two sheets, just like boot camp. I figured I should be able to do it, since I've spent the last 3 years grading sailors' rooms. I have the pillow Mike bought me, my sleeping bag, my throw and Trevor's tiger stuffed animal. I snatched it from him while he was sleeping. I needed to have something of his. Thinking of my rack on the ship, I have mixed feelings. The last time I was here I had a great fondness for my rack. It is the only place on the ship that is truly yours. It’s the only place on the ship you can pretend to be alone. Crawling into my rack, closing the curtains and putting in my earbuds felt like a safe place. It’s what I imagine dogs who love their crates feel. Thinking of my rack now, I'm not sure how I feel. That rack now represents something different. It’s a bed for one, barely enough room for just me. It’s one bed in a column of three, in a berthing of roughly one hundred. I was given rack number two. A middle rack, for which I am very grateful, and have expressed to everyone I felt may have had a part in that, but it is just a reminder.

My son is in California, two states away. He is safe, and he is loved, but I miss him so much. Another emotion that feels physical. It feels as if my heart was filled with lead. It feels heavy and solid in my chest. The longing I feel to be with him, is the gravity which pulls my heart. I could go on about Thomas, but it would all lead to the same thing. The weight in my chest I feel when I think of him. Mike, he is in Illinois still. He is my rock. Something about him calms me. Just thinking of him, I just took a deep calming breath without realizing. My therapist, Tonya, noticed I do that too. Tonight though, I'm anxious thinking of Matt. I haven't heard from him since yesterday at noon. Maybe he left his phone, maybe its broken. I'm worried about him and waiting to hear something.

I have to wonder, if these negative emotions I'm feeling, this dread, if it is my anxiety/depression. I forgot to take my meds this morning. I've forgotten before, and I only felt more on edge, not sad. I think it might be a combination of that and the loneliness. Monday I start ship indoc, and the check-in process. I have to make an appointment with the ship psych, and request a consult for therapy, to continue what I was doing in Illinois. As I type this, I remembered that this ship actually denied me at first, because of my medical problems. The operational screening manager made them accept me anyway. I suppose I should ask about that. I have eighteen months left on my contract, but I don't think I want to fulfill it. I want out. The more I think about it, the heavier the weight on my chest feels. I worry how I will function in a week, a month, and underway. I had planned to go reserves after, but I don't think that matters to me anymore. Chief Sanchez told me I make decisions based on emotions and I should be basing them on facts. That's easier said than done. It’s impossible to silence my heart, or even tell the difference between heart and brain.

I saw a quote on pinterest earlier, "sometimes when you're in a dark place you think you've been buried, but actually you've been planted." At the moment it was so reassuring, I immediately saved it to my phone. Only an hour or so later and I can't get that same feeling back. I know I will, my mental state is a roller coaster. Tomorrow I'll wake up motivated to do my best and make the best of my situation. It will work for a few hours, but as time passes and the day turns to night, the darkness will creep in again. The lonely fog will roll over me. My car is still in California being worked on. I've been wondering if I will feel different when I have it back. I feel trapped because I am literally trapped on base without my jeep. It’s going to be weeks until it will be ready though. Ugh.

Gym, reading, internet, gaming. What else is there to do? Tuesday and Thursday is spin at the gym on base. So, there's that. The fellow to my right woke up and is back playing games. I suspect he is doing laundry, and that is why he is still here and not in his rack. I think it’s about time for me to go retire to mine. A cigarette on my way, in the 28 degree cold, then hopefully a hot shower before I medicate myself so that I can sleep.

In the nine years I have served in the Navy, I never felt as if I actually ever sacrificed, until tonight. I'm sacrificing myself, mentally and emotionally. Being separated from Trevor is the hardest thing I have ever done. I have a lot of regrets tonight, the pros and cons aren't evening out. This is definitely a low point tonight, but hey, tomorrow will be better.