Category: Health & Wellness

Burnout Before Dishonor

I am such a burnout. No, not like a 70’s teenager with long hair and a roach clip hanging from the rear view mirror of his love van. I mean I am burned out. I mean, it’s not surprising. I have a full time job, am writing 3 different books, volunteer at a local nonprofit, am on several neighborhood committees, counsel Veterans a bunch, and take care of a large house, small garden, and a 78 pound German Shepherd, all while trying to maintain a family. Whose friggin idea was all this? Oh, right, mine.

Am I the only one who does this? From what I gleen from conversations with my brethren, no. It is something we all do. Why is it, after serving our country for many years to decades, working countless hours in austere conditions, when we could be chilling a little bit more, do we find ourselves wrapped up in a thousand little projects until we overwhelm ourselves so much that we drive ourself to drink or lose our RIP-It soaked minds?

There are so many parts to this, let’s break it down one by one. First, we are gently groomed (insert sarcastic voice) to never be idle in Chapter 2 of our life, our time in Service. Except for the time when we were part of the SP4 mafia and we used our sham shield to completely goof off, we were always busy or someone found something to make us busy. If we weren’t training, then hip-pocket training kicked in, followed by cleaning something or taking something apart and putting it back together super fast. Nonstop action. But here is the thing; we had high levels of resiliency then, because we had to. We were trained to be be able to keep moving under the most stressful circumstances because if we didn’t, people would die.

When we took off the uniform for the last time, we were left with a huge conflict. We still had a desire to be busy because we were taught to always be busy and because we have that personality that says to keep on serving. But, we realized that we didn’t need to hang on to that resilience any longer because nobody was going to die if we didn’t make our bed. So, we maintained our workload but dropped a part of the process which enabled us to deal with the workload. As a Sergeant Major, I was able to handle multiple tasks at the strategic and individual level without emotion or issue. Now, when the internet goes down in the middle of an MMA fight I lose my freaking mind. Why? Because my brain figured out I no longer needed that previous level of resilience.

The difference in one trait staying and one dropping off the face of the earth was WHY we had these traits. We had the “never stop moving” trait because if you did stop moving, you were a slacker, lazy, or letting down a small or large group of people. The last one was the biggest. Nobody wanted to be the Warrior who let other people down or got them hurt or killed. That is a mortal sin in the military. Letting yourself down or getting yourself hurt was tolerable and was your own fault anyway. So, we maintained the work ethic of ensure your actions don’t hurt others but worry less about yourself.

How many of us go out of our way to take care of others like our family and friends but take crappy care of ourselves? Nature of our Warrior beast. We give and give and take time to volunteer to help others at the expense of our own physical and mental health. How do we deal with our health? We drink and laugh it off. We over commit ourselves until we can’t do anything for anyone including ourselves. We are burned out. Not a great place to be in, I know. We get angry and resentful at others and ourselves. And it can take a long time to get back to doing things.

So, how do we fix this? Well, the key is not get burned out in the first place. I am a firm believer in a lifetime of service and being a productive member of society. But, as I recently discovered from a couple of family members, sometimes you have to stop to smell the roses, not get caught up in the rat race, and live in peace. We can’t be great friends, siblings, spouses, and parents if we are burned out. And when we are ready to start our mission again, we go at it at a manageable pace, and not try to maintain a ridiculously high OPTEMPO. We also have to realize that it is ok to make small mistakes, that things are going to go wrong, and that we can deal with them without freaking out all over everyone.

It is that simple. Ok, that’s a lie. It is not simple but it is doable. Stead pace, relax, do right for the right reason, help for the right reason, accept your failures or bumps in the road, and be at peace.

I would like to tell you that if you get overwhelmed to give me a call, day or night. But, honestly, I just don’t have the bandwidth for that anymore. Most of us don’t. I am here most of the time. But if I want to give quality help I have to not try and give a huge quantity of help. We need to pace ourselves. We’ll, I now know I do.

—SGM DTB—

4 Reasons You Quit Serving

Many Warriors spend between 4 and 40 years of their life serving, and then quit. After a storied, good, or bad career of training, schooling, leading, and possibly a deployment or five they simply quit. Why is it? Hold on before you get your undies in a bunch. I’m not saying that when you leave military service you are a quitter. We all have to leave sometime.

I am implying that many will quit SERVING after they leave service even though there are a ton of opportunities to. Serving doesn’t just mean wearing a uniform. A Warrior does not quit serving their Nation and its citizens simply because the guy at the Central Issue Facility took in your cleaned-up load bearing equipment and was the final person to sign off on your out-processing form. Ok, I guess I wasn’t implying it. I came right out and said it. If you have been following my blog (subscribe below) you would know that I am pretty forthcoming with my thoughts.

First, let’s look at why Warriors join the military before we dive into why they quit serving. A study done by Krebs & Ralston showed that 43% of people who join the military do so out of a sense of patriotism or duty. The rest for employment or out of desperation. So, let’s talk about the 43% who said they joined because they wanted to be hooah. The other 57% percent, while great Americans, didn’t sign up forever. Many want a unique set of skills. Some sign up for the education. Some sign up because they need a job or have no other options. We all have buddies whose options were the Marine Corps or jail.

But 43%, said that they did it out of a desire to serve, very admirable. So, why do most quit serving after they take off the uniform? If it was so important to risk your life, your health, your relationships, your everything, why was it no longer important after you shredded your Common Access Card?

And what am I talking about when I say “serving?” I am talking about doing for others, doing for your Nation, doing for your communities, and doing for your brethren. Let’s look at the best example I can give you, the first SGM Bean, my Dad. SGMB1 served his country all of his life. But not just in military uniform. My Dad worked and volunteered so much of his time to this great land that his sacrifice can never truly be repaid. When he wasn’t on duty, which was often, he also was a dispatcher for the local police and State Police. He was actually struck by lightning once while on the phone taking a call but still managed to finish his shift. He also worked as a Deputy Game Warden during the busy hunting seasons like deer and bear where, while trying to apprehend some deer jackers, his partner drove their blacked-out car into a rock forcing my Dad’s un-seatbelted head into the dash and his tobacco pipe down his throat. When he wasn’t doing that, he was likely at a Rotary Club meeting or helping somebody work on their car at Cassady’s Garage.

He did all this, along with serving in uniform for 42 years until he was riddled with cancer, retired, and died. Many, including me at one point, will ask why. Why work your entire life, giving, just to die 3 months after you retire? That is a valid question that I had as well. I once swore I would not be like my father and work until I died, as if he had done something wrong. It was my line of thinking that was wrong.

It was a few years after my own retirement while I was working as a Department of the Army civilian that I realized I was the biggest dummy in the world. My Dad’s way of thinking was right. Why wouldn’t you work your whole life if your work was helping others? Why wouldn’t you serve others if you could? Why wouldn’t you devote your entire 80 plus years to helping mankind in one form or another. If you were willing to lay down your very life, as a sacrifice for others, why wouldn’t you spend your life doing the same? Let’s talk about 4 reasons why.

First, some just aren’t able to due to physical or mental disabilities Odin’s glorious Army gave them. And that is so very unfortunate. Those who demonstrated such fortitude and courage would help this grateful Nation so much if they were able to keep doing what they obviously love. But, there are many that will have to spend the rest of their life simply caring for themselves or being cared for. While I don’t pity them, because they would not want that, I pity us who will not get to have them be productive members of society for life.

Second, some of the ones who are part of the 57% signed up for the employment or out of desperation, per the study. While they are great Americans for serving for however long they did and sacrificing however much they did, their plan was to do their time, get some mad skills, and move back into Chapter 3 of their life with other things to do.

Third, and this will shake some trees, are those who are still trying to get more from our Nation because of their service. Don’t furrow your brow at me. You know that guy or girl. The guy who complains when Applebee’s doesn’t also give him free dessert on Veterans’ Day. The girl who complains when Delta airlines doesn’t give her a discount on her airfare. Or even better, the guy who refuses to shop at Home Depot because “I have to show my ID every time to get my discount.” They spend their lives not working and relying on the collective support of good citizens, nonprofits and the government. Like the guy who gets 100% medical and 100% VA plus disability from Uncle Sugar along with but when he CHOSE to move he had a nonprofit pay his moving expenses “because they should.” But I digress. These are the people who won’t continue serving because the world owes them, why should they give back? These brethren have lost their way.

Last, are the people who just don’t know they quit serving. They are likely doing their best to transition, maybe struggling with a new career or college or relationships and are simply a little whelmed with life. Not overwhelmed, just whelmed. These are the people I want to reach out to. I get it. Life can feel overwhelming. New job, different city, home with the family more, doing less PT but more drinking. There just doesn’t seem like enough time. I have been there. Hell, I might still be there.

After I left the Army, and started working for them, and my crayon-eating brethren, I also founded and ran a nonprofit for almost 9 years with some truly great people, including Household 6. But eventually, I became one of the people I spoke about last. I was overwhelmed. I had lost my Mother, Saint Jeanne Bean. I was running the MA nonprofit from SC which added to the stress. And my wife’s Mother and Stepfather were in hospice in our care. Actually, in our home using our bedroom for awhile. I was way whelmed and had to step down, which unfortunately caused the closing of my baby, The Warrior Thunder Foundation. That was in 2018, almost 3 years ago. Since then, I have done little outside of my job helping get good gear in the hands of our troops through the help of our partners who employ people with disabilities and vision impairment. But over the last month, I have started volunteering wih a local nonprofit for Veterans again. My job is certainly serving. It gives back a ton. But there is always more to do. And while I understand that I may have been lost, I regret it.

So, which one of the four people are you? Or are you still serving? Are you active in your church? Do you coach Little League? Are you an Active member of Veterans’ group? Are you a teacher? Are you a law enforcement officer? Do you work for the one of the Services as a civilian? Do you work in the Defense industry serving our great Warriors? Are you in the medical profession? I could go on but I think you get the point. Your serving shouldn’t stop when you crumple up your utility uniform into a ball in your spare closet. I’m not telling you that your sacrifice, your service, wasn’t awesome or patriotic or selfless. I’m telling you to not stop doing good for your fellow human. I’m telling you to keep doing it. Not only will you be serving your fellow citizen, but you will be doing good for your mental and physical well being.

There are a lot of opportunities out there. You have a lot of great skills, technical and in leadership. This Nation needs you. Your neighbors need you. This country was founded and is led by greatness. Well, not politicians. Business, nonprofits, Little League, your Rotary Club, your church all need you. And YOU need you. Remember how great it was doing this Nation’s work? Standing up against bullies? Protecting those who needed protection? Only the severity and horrible conditions have changed. Google™ nonprofits in your area or find something that you like to do and a way to help others do it.

It is time to un-quit serving. I am sure that whatever cause you choose it will be as rewarding. Helping is good. For everyone.

—SGM DTB—

On Suicide (Part I)

This article has been the hardest to decide to write. There is so much behind it emotionally for everyone; for parents of those who chose this action, comrades of the self-life takers, for those who would contemplate such an action, for those who want to prevent it. Look, there is no way this can be an easy discussion. And because of that we choose not to have it. It is like a car accident beside the road. We want to look. We take a peek. But we don’t tell anyone we peeked. It is time to openly take a peek. But we have to look at the real problem and the real solutions and stop with silly slogans. Open kimono, my best friend took his own life and I have been to the dark places we don’t talk about. If we are going to have an honest discussion, then it must begin with honesty.

So, here we are. We know the rhetoric; 22 Warriors a day take their own lives. We’ll, that’s not accurate. According to the 2020 VA Annual Report, on average 17.6 Warriors take their own life every day. And don’t ask me how .6 Warriors take their life. It’s an average ok? Why is this important? Isn’t one life too many? Yes. One life lost or taken is too many. But if we are going to have an honest discussion with the chance of identifying the problem, and coming up wih a solution, then we have to start with facts. Not a slogan, not a cool Tshirt saying that raises money, not the alliterative name of a nonprofit. That crap is for politicians. If we are going to talk about this honestly, then let’s talk about this honestly.

If we continue to talk with wrong numbers because we chose to name a fundraising goal or organization after it, we are slapping the truth in the face. We are taking away the individualality of those who chose this path by simply making them a cool slogan or backside of a challenge coin. To the parents, spouses, and children of victims of suicide we are saying they don’t matter, they are just part of some group that made a bad decision. Let’s look further at the numbers.

There are approximately 20 million US Veterans alive today. That is approximately 6% of the US adult population. Yet, approximately 14% of the 127 people who commit suicide are Warriors. When you adjust the study for age and sex to normalize it, the numbers are about 1.5 times that of civilians. But, these numbers are also a bit deceiving as the annual rate for our Warriors has mostly stayed the same over our longest wars, going up a few percent while the civilian population, not having gone to war, has skyrocketed almost 50%. While we consistently, in our rhetoric to sell t-shirts, talk of how PTSD in our Warriors is causing their suicides, this indicates it is not a primary or even probable associated factor. In fact, over 50% of those who took their lives while actively serving had never deployed. In fact, most were first-termers, young and male. Nearly 1000 more Warriors who took their life that were National Guard members never having been Federally activated, hence no combat, hence no combat-related PTSD. PTSD from Military Sexual Trauma is still a possibility regardless of deployment. But the VA does not classify them as Veterans. So, is combat-related PTSD the reason for the predominence of suicides? I don’t think so Carl.

Ok, we know that Warriors get beat up physically over their years in service. So, their injuries must be the cause? Well, not so fast there high-speed. Actually, Warriors who had service connected disabilities and get treatment at the VA seem to have had a lower rate. And while chronic injuries (e.g. TBI) with habitual medication use without resolution can be a large factor as hope for recovery is lost, it is still not the answer. Studies have shown that isolation is likely the biggest key in Warrior suicide.

Older, divorced, males are the highest age demographic. You know that old, grumpy, 50-somethinng, divorced, Clint Eastwood get off my lawn-acting neighbor? Yeah, he is in danger. Older Veterans, isolated and with mental health issues are a high number. For younger troops, it is likely failure to adapt to a new world as they join Chapter 2 of their life and fear what they don’t know about combat. For those in Chapter 3, it’s younger troops who don’t readjust well. I have long thought that most of this issue was an issue of adapting. Let’s be clear about what the SGM just said. I said difficulty in adapting. I didn’t say anyone was weak-minded or just “couldn’t get over it” or anything like it. I am saying we are failing to adapt to the new life and ruining others lives by taking our own.

Mental health issues in America have gone up over the last years, which can explain why some of our younger Warriors are having issues both in Chapter 2 and Chapter 3. Early studies showed that those who had pre-existing mental health issues were more likely to have a compounded problem down the military road so are now excluded from military service, generally. Today’s youth are simply different (insert “ok boomer” here). I’m not saying they are good, bad, better, worse, just different. Raised differently in a different world of not needing to cope with other humans behind their Facespace or Twitgram. Problem to solve? Ask Alexa. Don’t know an answer. Ask Google. And older Warriors isolated from family in a world they don’t understand, with mental health issues of their own, compounded by age, simply lose faith.

So, where does all this lead? What is the path forward? The path forward is to stop lying to ourselves, lying to the public, and lying to our Warriors about what the real problem is and how we can fix it. First, let’s follow this simple, but accurate, path. Pre-existing mental health conditions lead to poor adaption in Chapter 3, leading to poor social interaction, leading to economic disparity, leading to homelessness, leading to a bad ending. The path may get shortened anywhere along the way, unfortunately, due to the severity of any of those conditions, specifically mental illness. Alot of that can be alleviated through teaching our Warriors how to adapt to Chapter 3 better.

As I have stated on many occasions, our military’s inability to transition our men and women properly is largely at fault for their woes and even their suicides. Teach a Warrior how to adapt to Chapter 3, giving them ample time to determine a path forward, with experts in social interaction not just resume writers, and they will do better. Just because they can adapt to stressful situations like combat doesn’t mean they can adjust to the stress of working with people they feel aren’t as qualified as them or dealing with “whiners” and “oxygen thiefs.” It is simply not the same.

We must transition our Warriors to properly integrate with the pillars of life: family, fun, faith, friendships, employment and community. We must help the Warrior understand that his life is going to change dramatically. His relationships with his spouse, parents, and siblings has changed. In my article Why God Doesn’t Love the Infantry Anymore, I talk about the need to work on relationships. Relationships provide social integration, directly and indirectly. Directly, it is contact with another human with common goals, someone we trust, someone who trusts us, someone we need, someone who needs us. Sound familiar? Indirectly, they bring other parts of our pillars along with them. Other friends, other likes in the community etc. When we have a relationship with our spouse and children, it is also more likely will work harder to maintain employment. Employment gives us purpose, brain stimulation, and another set of possible friends with possible similarities of hobbies. Having this job, with new friends brings us further into different parts of the community. And lastly, these relationships with our spouse and children help give us faith. Faith in love, Faith in hope, Faith in a higher power. Faith in a higher power also gives us more access to more of the community, and more friends.

So, bottom line, in my humblest of opinions, with some pretty solid facts behind it, is that we need to address suicide at its root. It’s root is not wholly nor heavily from combat-related PTSD. It is from out inability to to adapt to Chapter 3. So, while it’s great that you offer free fly fishing trips to Veterans with PTSD, it is more important that you offer these opportunities to ALL Veterans. And while the VA will not solve all your problems, no health system in and of itself will, facts show that getting treatment lowers your risk of suicide. So, just go. Will you get poor treatment? Maybe. But hey, I have TRICARE and use the Military Treatment Facility and I get crappy treatment every now and then as well. Change Dr’s, get a second opinion etc. And finally, keep working on the pillars of life, which are important here to reiterate. Family, fun, faith, friendships, employment and community. Let’s transition and live!

—SGM DTB—

My Two Best Friends Want to Kill Me!

I have spent the better part of Chapter 2 and 3 hanging out with a couple buddies whom I have trusted to always be there. We have gone through a lot. The death of loved ones, the death of battle buddies, relationship issues, the stress of leaving service, changing jobs, and moving. These guys have been there for me every step of the way, always making me forget the pain, the stress, and helping me quiet the voices in my head (don’t get alarmed, they are my voices). Now, they are trying to kill me! I’ve tried to get rid of them, but for some reason they still hang around.

Jack and Bud (their real names) just seem to never know that it is time for them to leave. Maybe it’s because whenever I have a problem I turn to them which makes them feel important. Maybe it’s something in my existence, my physical being, that makes me turn to them whenever there is a problem, or it’s Tuesday. Maybe it’s because it is the unspoken, dirty part of the Warrior culture that we joke and brag about, that the Military does so little to fix, that is to blame, and what will ultimately kill us. I’m talking about the culture of excessive drinking. And my friends are my two favorite drinks in case you aren’t catching on.

The openly accepted, no, encouraged, culture of drinking in Chapter 2 of our lives, expands into Chapter 3 and gets marketed like a new wireless speaker on Kickstarter. In Chapter 2 of our lives, the drinking was unrestrained and approved of until you got a DUI or got drunk and committed some domestic violence. Alcohol lived in the culture. You were expected to work hard and play harder. How late could you stay up drinking and still make PT? We joked about how we could smell tequila coming out of someone on that 0730 ruck march. Back in the barracks we joked about still being drunk for at least half of PT. High fives all around! In the field, all we talked about getting this camouflage off and popping a beer. Although once, I recall, after having spent 5 days in the field, we snuck my buddy Butch out to grab cases of beer while we were still turning in our sensitive items and cleaning weapons, and still had camouflage painted faces and hands. Drunk in camo. High fives all around!

We solved all of our problems with a lot of booze. We drank to lost brothers and shitty leaders. Popping a few in the Day Room was as important to us as the training we had done that day. I recently saw a survey asking if you had “binge-drank” in the last 30 days. Binge-drinking was defined as 5 or more drinks in one setting, 4 if you were a female. I know plenty of brothers and sisters who binge-drank their way through a 20-year enlistment, before dinner each night. As I think back, I find it ironic, albeit sad, that we used to highly praise and respect this one NCO who had the best spit-shined boots in the world, knowing full well he drank a sixer of Busch Lite while doing it and before driving home. While we honored it and joked about it, he worked his way into a huge drinking problem which caught him a DUI, and then caused him to miss reporting to required schools which got him demoted, forever reducing his retirement. Another drank so hard that they found him in the arms room passed out one morning, surrounded by bottles and cans. He got treatment, did it again, and got discharged about 19 months short of retirement.

So, here we are in Chapter 3 of our lives, with an unchecked and hysterical drinking problem and a new culture that perpetuates it for a totally different reason. Many of us who make it to Chapter 3 of our lives, leave service more battered than the Colonel’s chicken. Many Warriors really step up their drinking game in Chapter 3 because of this. Many have seen some horrifying things that neither man nor beast should never see, lost a part of themselves that they need to survive, gave something of themselves for the greater good but the self bad, or struggle with moral injuries that may never heal. Some just can’t, won’t, or don’t adjust to Chapter 3 as I discussed in disabilities and depression. So, they drink.

In fact, there is a new culture that makes the Warrior feel it is OK to drink heavy because they have PTSD, bumps and boo boos, or just hate civilian life. The internal culture paints itself as an unfixably-broken human who must suffer in their cups. This false, yet real-life meme depicts a broken, drunk jerk who naturally must end his life in suicide or “accidental” overdose. This culture of lies is dragging down a repairable leader of society that has fallen prey to some stupid ideal that he will go out like a Warrior and find his way to Valhalla. He goes to counseling for his PTSD or other mental health issues but not his drinking or drug abuse when scientific studies say the both MUST be addressed together as part of a co-morbid treatment plan.

As Warriors, we must stop this horribly-framed, freak art show. We must not give in to the belief that it’s cool, funny, or expected. In some ways, it is expected from our civilian sector, because we display it and put it on some pedestal. From the days of the World Wars, Korea, and Vietnam, some Warriors came home and perpetuated the “crazy old shell-shocked Vet” “the dangerous dope-smoking Vietnam Vet.” Now, the picture has just changed a little. Now it is the dangerous, excessively tattooed, hard-drinking, limping, PTSD-riddled, Warrior who ends his life in a fiery crash of metal and poison.

It’s time for a new picture. It’s time to help apply a new coat of paint to our brother’s and sister’s ugly wall. It’s time to no longer accept this picture we paint as normal, allowed, or expected. I expect that you and I will get our shit together. It’s also time that we realize that this little drinking game we played as kids isn’t a game anymore. It’s your life and it’s your death. It’s time we stop allowing the final act of this story to be a Doctor standing at your hospital bed, with your family around you, saying all he can do is provide something for the pain, nothing more. It’s time we recognized that we have a problem that needs addressing. It is no longer good enough to just admit you have a drinking problem. It’s a problem that needs to be addressed, likely for a long time.

For some, it is an outright alcohol addiction that needs medical attention while you detox and then while you get clean. Some don’t understand that. I have a great brother who jokingly classifies people into the following categories: cans, cant’s, shouldn’ts, and don’ts. If I recall properly, the definitions are: cans can drink without issue; can’ts can’t drink because of legal or medical reasons; shouldn’ts shouldn’t drink because they break out in fights, accidents, or other legal, amoral or unethical behavior; don’ts don’t drink because they simply choose not to. But, I sent him a text a few weeks ago saying he needed to amend his concept, adding “musts”. Some must. Their body, their demons, their psyche, their very being compels it. They can’t be classified as anything else because they don’t fit in with the other two choices or two ramifications of their choices. They simply must. Without intervention, there is nothing they can do. So, intervene we must. It will require some medical intervention in the form of detox along with psychological and addiction counseling, and possibly medical help or prescription.

So, let’s help prevent Jack, Bud, Jim, Johnny, Jose and all their friends from trying to kill us. Let us ditch the culture that because we served we get to drink, die and go to Valhalla. Let us deal with that last part first to clear things up. Valhalla and Folkvangr are where slain Warriors go in Norse mythology. Odin and Freyja split them 50/50 into their kingdoms. There is never a mention in any text that says those who drink or drug themselves to death, or take their own lives, get to go to either location. Valhalla means hall of the slain. Folkvangr means field of the host. Both are open for Warriors slain in a noble cause, not from having drowned in the Battle of Jack Daniels. Mad now? Good. The bullshit culture ends here. There is nobility in what you did in Chapter 2. But that doesn’t give you the right to do what you do in Chapter 3. Nor does it make us noble. We can no longer accept this in us or our brethren any more than we would in our own children, parents or siblings. If you are a “must”, seek and stick with the professional help that is available through the VA, TRICARE or your insurance. Let us remain noble, healthy, and alive to continue to serve this grateful Nation.

—SGM DTB—

My Life Has No Meaning

As part of my continuing thread of discipline and action in Chapter 3 of our lives, post-Service, I know that many of us feel that our lives no longer have any meaning. We go through the day to day grind, doing only what needs to be done, not really feeling excited about it, thinking it has no meaning in comparison to Chapter 2, our time in Service. The daily tasks and excitement in Chapter 2 gave us a desire to get up every day, to put on that uniform, to interact with our brethren, to do great and varied things, to challenge ourselves and others. Now, not so much. We become complacent with the boredom, not doing the things we need to do, like we talked about in Discipline or Disaster, just going through the motions to get to the next meal, the next drink, the next text, the next mission in Call of Duty.

Let’s start out by talking about the perceived differences in meaning between Chapter 2 and 3. In Chapter 2, our time in Service, we served a greater calling, a greater good, something bigger than ourselves. We served an entire Nation, training to be able to deter aggression, around the world, against the weak or oppressed. We fought the bully, we stood up for what was right, defeated or punished those that were wrong, removed dangerous despots and dictators who committed terrible acts of genocide, mass imprisonment, executing protesters to keep the public down. Whether we practiced organized religion or not, we believed we served our God’s will. We were right and might over blight. We were such well trained machines that even the thought of us arriving could end oppression, chase dictators to other lands. We were Superman, Aqua Man, Wonder Woman, Captain America, Captain Marvel, The Fantastic Four and Iron Man all wrapped in a camouflage cape. I mean, we were amazing, doing amazing things.

Old Soldier – Marvel™

Now, we are salesmen, teachers, carpenters, small businessmen, insurance reps, mail carriers, plumbers and a host of other jobs that aren’t doing a damn thing to save the world or defeat any horrible despot, in our mind. Our boss doesn’t trust us to go outside for a smoke without having to sign out of the office or send him an email. We are not tasked with any real sense of responsibility, just making widgets until our next break, lunch or the end of day whistle. Our tasks are so mundane that the bosses nephew, who didn’t graduate high school, can do them to a sufficient level to collect a paycheck, likely greater than ours. Not only are we not super heroes anymore, but we are just another body on the subway, another patron at the bar, another employee ID number (I am number 3 by the way), just another John Q Public. We have never felt so useless. Even in Chapter 1, our childhood, at least we were cute and our parents fawned over us. Now, most people in the office barely know our name, much less what we have done, the crap we have seen, or the lives we have protected. What a depressing scene, bro.

Those feelings, and many more are felt by more than just Warriors every day. They are felt by the average American worker, who, day in and day out works his fingers to the bone for something seemingly unimportant. I see the comments on social media; “you are working your butt off for an employer who will replace you within 24 hours of your death.” Maybe the Warrior, and his civilian counterpart have forgotten about the importance of the complete industrial and retail base in American, and its vitality to this Nation. Right now, we are in the midst of a worldwide pandemic, the COVID-19 virus. In our country, schools are closed down, most businesses are closed, save a few essential stores, like liquor stores and grocery stores and gas stations. Mothers and fathers are having to work from home or not work at all to watch their children. The service industry is mostly shutdown with all of your friends who serve you drinks and bring you pulled pork sandwiches sitting at home wondering when this will be over. Government employees, home. Waste disposal, reduced to minimal operations. Elective procedures? No. Routine healthcare? No. Shopping for new shoes? Nope. Amazon deliveries? Oh yes, cause, well, it is Amazon after all. So, all those “meaningless jobs” we now realize are extremely important to our life.

We have figured out that sports athletes aren’t our heroes, its the college girl who brings us shot after shot at the bar. It’s not the movie star that helps us, it is the guy who answers the phone at the insurance company because we still managed to ding our bumper. It’s not the weather guy who shows up at every hurricane, it’s the guy who can fix our leaky faucet that is driving.us.nuts. Drip drip drip. It’s not the politician who makes our life better, it is the school teacher who teaches my precious grand babies instead of them having to move in with me and HH6 for a month or more. It’s not the guy who plays the newest rap tune, it’s that farmer who is still working his ass off to get food to MY table tonight; to your babies breakfast tomorrow.

So, maybe those jobs aren’t meaningless. Maybe it is okay I am a plumber, or carpenter, or delivery guy. Maybe everything everyone does contributes to the greater good after all. Maybe this boring day to day, not give a crap, not improve my position, just get complacent in my own boring skin, is better than I thought. Maybe if I felt a little better about what I am doing to contribute I wouldn’t get complacent. Maybe I would do more, try harder, give a little extra, tolerate that idiot boss of mine (not mine FYI just in case he reads this). This is important. Complacency leads us down a bad road. IF we are not satisfied, not fulfilled, not feeling like we are contributing, we will seek other alternatives to give us that rush, that fulfillment. A lot of these things are not so awesome for us. Dangerous activity like riding the bike too hard, alcohol and drug over use, risky sexual behavior, fights at bars, and negative thoughts about living or dying.

Don’t get me wrong. Nothing will likely give you the feeling of self-worth like dragging your 180 lb buddy out of the direct line of fire, like dropping from the sky with 100 of your best friends, like climbing a steep mountainside roped to another Warrior. Let’s face it, you were getting a life time worth of adventure, team building and adrenaline building activities in a very short time. It may never be AS thrilling as that. But it doesn’t mean that it can’t still be good. Accept good. There is nothing wrong with good. A lot of people will never be blessed to feel good. And, if the day to day is not enough, even though you now understand it’s s important, try something more. While I worked for the government developing combat equipment after I retired from the Army, despite how cool and fulfilling that was, I felt the need to help my brethren more.

So, I started a Veteran non profit. Building that from the ground up was exhilarating and fulfilling, more than enough. Go volunteer at a soup kitchen. That, too, was very fulfilling and gave me a good sense of balance and gratefulness. Go mow your neighbor’s lawn. Go play checkers with your elderly Sergeant Major. PS, let him win because he gets grumpy easy. Ok, he is always grumpy. My point is, don’t think what you do isn’t important and don’t get complacent with your day to day grind. Get out and do something if you think your job isn’t fulfilling enough. Workout, learn something, read that book again, help someone else, help you.

During these difficult times of stress and virus and unemployment, don’t just sit and watch the negativity on the boob tube all day. Do something. Be positive, change your game up a little, go help someone. I hope you all stay safe. Don’t just sit there and be angry about how Chapter 3 is meaningless. Your life DOES have meaning. You are destined for meaning, for good, great, and amazing. Go find that destiny. Don’t forget to check in on your elderly neighbor, via phone, of course. Be safe my friends.

—SGM DTB—

I Wouldn’t Run Into a Burning Building for Me

I wouldn’t. I wouldn’t set foot inside. For you, your family, my brethren, my family, a stranger? Oh hell yes, without thinking. But not for me. Why not you ask?

For those who spent more than a day in uniform (not to exclude our first responders), you know the answer. Because “I” am not important. Business leaders and coaches spew the rhetoric of there is no I in team, son. They do so in an attempt to rally the team or group into some kind of temporary success; a new contract, faster production, or a win over State. But, in Chapter 2 of our lives, our time in service, our very sense of importance that was built up by Mom and Dad in Chapter 1, growing up, is violently and quickly stripped away. All of it, gone with the blink of an eye and the scream of a guy wearing Smokey the Bear’s hat. As we progress through Chapter 2, at our first duty station, “you mean nothing, only the Fire Team or section matters” is perpetuated and glorified.

During this time of personal growth, we learn that our personal growth is not for us, but for the team, the squad, the platoon. Sure, they want you to develop professionally, get smarter, stronger, more experienced, etc, but it’s not really for you. Sure, four times a year you will be counseled on your performance, but truly it relates to you being a member of a team. So few leaders care what happens to you in Chapter 3, only that you help the team in Chapter 2. Don’t get me wrong, many leaders do care, but the system does not. The Army mission is further broken down into a Mission Essential Task List (METL) which is further broken down into individual and collective tasks flowing back up to victory.

Act as an individual, not perform as a sacrificing member of the team and you will receive correction. Sometimes it’s a simple verbal correction, sometimes it’s a screaming session meant to make you feel less important. Or you might report on Saturday for School of the Soldier, a serious one-sided physical smoke show where your vision grows dimmer along with your hydration status. Or if handled internally, you will meet your buddy’s socks and learn what kind of soap they use. Spoiler alert, they use very hard soap! Very.hard.soap.

All this seemingly foolish psychology develops our Armed Forces into lean, mean fightin’ machines capable of death, destruction, compassion, and liberation. It develops teams capable of anything, in any environment, day or night. It develops complete trust and faith knowing that we all have each other’s backs and are always there for one another. It creates a terribly self – destructive Warrior in Chapter 3 of his life, after Service, who will help all his brethren without question but will have to be fought tooth and nail to take care of their own stuff. So, no, I won’t run into a burning building for me. It would be selfish and neglect the greater good, so I am told.

I see Warriors helping Warriors all the time. Rides to the VA, helpful advice, a shoulder to lean on, an ear to lend, a few bucks to pay a bill. But, particularly with Gen Xers, I see Warriors struggling with their own shit as they help the other guy. I see so many Warriors who have not focused on themselves for so long, they have no idea how to. Talking with one the other day who is about to transition from Chapter 2 to Chapter 3 and he was remarkably clueless and angry already. Where am I going to work, who will I hang out with, how do I do the VA crap, civilian life sucks. He hadn’t read Leave the Attitude at the CIF, yet, apparently. We, as a Department of Defense, do such a great job at removing the “I in team” over a bunch of years, 23 in my case, and then spend zero time building them back up as individuals. Zero time, period, over and out.

This likely plays into Warriors taking their own lives at an above-average rate. If we are taught we don’t matter, think of everyone else first, work as a team, it is understandable that we would feel like we don’t matter in the end. But, we are wrong. While we were being torn down as an individual, we were secretly just being assigned another role. The role of caregiver, superhero, best friend, trustworthy partner. You really did matter because without you being so strong, so smart, so experienced, the team wouldn’t be as strong, we wouldn’t be capable of completing the mission. Well, guess what buttercup, we still need you on the team. The team has just changed. It involves spouses and children and coworkers and friends and brethren. So, you have to work on being strong, and smart and experienced so that we can all navigate Chapter 3 together, with our partners, etc. You must go to your Drs appointments, work on your education, your physical fitness, your emotional strength, and your faith.

So, you know what, I guess I will run into a burning building for me. I will treat myself with the same honor, respect, and care that I do for everyone else. I will work on me, I will fix me. I will save me. How else am I going to be around long enough to save all you freaking bozos who don’t have your crap together? Stay safe brothers and sisters. And don’t forget to rush into that building…for you.

—SGM DTB—

Disabilities and Depression

I contemplated whether I should co-mingle these two topics as they can be light years apart and not related. But, the fact that medically speaking, they can be referred to as co-morbid, made me keep them together. While depression can certainly stand alone like the cheese, it is very directly attached to other disabilities, injuries, and illnesses.

First, let’s define depression. “Depression is a mood disorder that causes a persistent feeling of sadness and loss of interest. Also called a major depressive disorder or clinical depression, it affects how you feel, think and behave and can lead to a variety of emotional and physical problems. You may have trouble doing normal day-to-day activities, and sometimes you may feel as if life isn’t worth living.”

We all know what a disability is. So, how are the two intertwined and what do we do to work our way through this? In this case, we are talking about the depression that can naturally come from having a disability, injury or illness, here forward just referred to as disability. Generally, the disability comes first and as a result, the depression follows. The biggest issue involves only treating the underlying disability, not addressing the associated depression which only makes the disability worse. As we all know from recent reports, stress is an underlying cause of poor healing and exacerbated injuries.

So how did we get here? We were once on top of our game. Now we are broken to some extent, it’s their fault, it’s impossible to get my claim approved, the VA care sucks, nobody understands and nobody cares. I see this every day in my research, over and over. Again, in most of these cases, the disability and its inherent processes caused depression. The government has not made it easy and their processes, or lack thereof, may be to blame for both the disability and the co-morbid depression.

Let’s start from the beginning, Chapter 2, our military service. Somehow or some way we get injured or incur an illness caused by or exacerbated by our life in uniform. The battle now begins. If we don’t document this, the battle is mostly lost already. Knowing how few injuries I reported in my career, including multiple TBIs and a fractured hyoid bone (look that up), all potentially fatal, I can only imagine what others who trained and fought harder than I did never reported. But, let’s assume you have been seen by your Warrior-healer, and he hasn’t been busy losing your shot records, again (you know who you are). Or the engagement was documented by Operations. A few years down the road we decide to transition to Chapter 3, our life after Service. The military and the VA still do not have the same electronic medical records system so all documents must be on paper. Who even does that any more? Even Amazonian native tribes have access to the telegraph system. But the largest employer in the country can’t speak to the largest health care provider in the world. A new system is on the way with a contract recently let, but years in the making.

So, we go to our final medical appointments and are so happy to get out at this point, we feel fine. And if you are like the dumbest SGM in the world, you promptly misplace those records anyway in your final PCS move. Then we file whatever paper copies we have with the VA and pray there was sufficient documentation to justify our disability. Then, we have to go to an appointment to do the same thing we just did while out-processing. Except, it’s by really old Dr’s who are being paid crap to get through a stack of records for the day to keep ahead of the 150,000 backlogged claims. How did that go? So, we spend another year waiting and appealing and documenting and waiting and stressing and waiting until we finally get that letter that says our horrifying degenerative arthritis at 40 years old is not the military’s fault.

But, they will help you with treatment, as long as you don’t make too much money so you can pay for your own health insurance to cover the treatment for not being able to hear out of your left ear because of explosions because you were told it’s normal for your age. I guess I missed in my biology class that it is normal to not hear out of one ear while the other works perfectly. But, I skipped school a lot. If you are still reading this, and aren’t depressed from this stupid process, God bless you. Can you imagine going to your private Dr and being treated this way? Now can you see how disability can cause depression?

Hey, this is no problem, Big Sarge. I got this. In Chapter 2, I was taught to face out, take a knee, change my socks and drink water. FIDO, F*** it and Drive On. While that may work for fatigue and minor booboos, it does not work for depression. Depression must be treated. What are the two most popular evidence-based methods of treating depression? Medication and Cognitive – Based Therapy. Annnnd 19 million Warriors just collectively groaned because what are the two things that Warriors hate the most, besides a barracks thief? You guessed it. Talking with someone about their feeeeelings and being a zombie from taking pills. It’s witchcraft, voodoo, stupid, a waste of time and some other choice words I shall not name. Well, my brothers and sisters, it is not.

Let’s talk first about the medication used to treat depression. These meds are not designed to necessarily cure your depression, rather provide a safer way to feel better, called harm reduction, than self-medication like alcohol, drugs, risky behavior, promiscuity, or self-harm. These meds are very tricky and act differently for each person. The various meds along with various prescription amounts combined with an unseen foe that they are supposed to attack with subjective symptoms make it hard to get right the first time, second time or even third time! So, sometimes we will feel groggy, like a zombie or just want to lay around all day and fight our Warrior discipline that is telling us to go mow the lawn, the right way. Give it time to level you out. You will find your peaks and valleys not so far apart and a general feeling of calm.

What proper, prescribed medication will also do is help you get to some cognitive-based therapy. It will bring you up enough to make the decision to help yourself. You have had the courage and desire to do it all along but the depression has stood in the way. Now, the meds lighten that load enough, hide the depression enough to just get you there. The reason for your depression needs to be addressed, not just self-medicated through or even just take meds to cover it up. This is where the courage of a Warrior roars. This is where we make our money. In our military operations, we spend most of our time rehearsing the Actions on the Objective. The things we do when we meet the enemy in a place of our choosing. Well, cognitive-based therapy is the place of our choosing. The enemy is depression! The objective is feeling better. So, let us work on what we do when we meet the enemy. We rehearse therapy, over and over. How many times have rehearsed actions on the OBJ in Chapter 2 of our life? Thousands? Until we got it right, for good?

Well, now it’s time to rehearse our cognitive-based therapy, over and over. It is basically understanding your depression, specifically the thoughts that cause it, how it make you feel bad, and then change the way you respond to those thoughts. Reprograming the brain housing group to operate more effectively and without interruption. That is this layman’s definition. Please seek someone who is more than a Combat Life Saver for the actual concept and process. But you get the point! Along with creating the disability, whether it be a messed up back, tinnitus, loss of appendage, pain in appendage, PTSD or anything else, we must treat the co-morbid depression.

Look, I’m not in your shoes. I have my share of crap, you have yours. You are different than me, I am different than you. I respond differently to treatment and meds than you do. I don’t know what you are going through, you don’t know what I am going through. But what I do know is this, if left untreated, depression will ruin you life just as quick as your disability. It will erode you as a Warrior, taking your family, friends, fitness, fun, faith, employment and community along with it. It will tear down your pillars of life like they were sand in the ocean. You have it in you to work to resolve this pain and suffering, to ditch this bug infested monkey on your back. So, let’s get it done Warrior.

Are you the family or friend of a Warrior who has depression along with some disability? If so, please understand the difficulty that this Warrior is going through. Your task, love them and help them get to help. I hate talking about my feelings, so you may have to drag me there, kicking and screaming like an over-caffeinated two-year-old. But get them there you must. I hope this has shed some light on the subject enough that you can help yourself or help someone who needs it and that you will share this with all your friends. Taking care of our Warriors who hurt because of service is all of our responsibility. So, let’s all get smart about this. See you on the objective!

—SGM DTB—

Why Doesn’t God Love the Infantry Anymore?

Belonging. We long for it, we do many things, good and bad for it. It drives us to church, sports teams, civic groups, summer camps, bars, clubs and yes, the military. It drives us. The need to belong, a core part of Maslow’s Hierarchy of Needs, makes us seek out similarly minded, similarly educated, similar in body type, race, religion, or creed, those with similar goals, etc. as we seek approval, camaraderie, to fit in, and a long-term other than self group.

In Chapter 1, we bounce from one group to another, trying to find the right fit. At first, our parents seek out those groups for us, hoping to find the right one for our success in education, church, sports, play groups, and daycare. The groups are likely more based on their need for us to belong to a group of their choosing based on socio-economic ties, what they belonged to as kids, or maybe something as simple as what they could afford. We don’t always like the groups they pick out for us, sometimes rebelling against our parents, projecting our anger on that group later, quitting the group or just caring little about participating. Some groups will be lifetime relationships that will bring us and our families joy.

As we near the end of Chapter 1, we start to make more of the decisions for ourselves, many times to the chagrin of our parents. Hanging out with the bad crowd or kids from the wrong side of the tracks brought stern warnings from our loved ones. But now, faced with the dissolution of most of our groups as we depart high school, friends going their own way, groups that don’t extend to adulthood, and our parent’s insistence to figure out what we are going to do with our lives, we look to belong again. Some group affiliations may be forced upon us due to opportunities or lack thereof such as college.

So, approximately five percent of us join the military. The reasons are many, from family affiliation, as my choice was, to stay out of jail, to wanting to belong to something larger and greater than self. The latter is often closely related to or referred to as serving my country. We believe that serving our country is serving the greater good, we will be like the person we idolized growing up, will be done with like-minded people, and will provide a better future for us.

So, in Chapter 2, we join the part of the military we think we will best fit in. I joined as an Army Legal Specialist, 71D. Spent a couple of years doing that and realized I didn’t fit in, wasn’t the type person I pictured myself as, so I joined the Infantry. I loved the law, in fact, I would have gone to college for it had I not been kicked off my high school hockey team and lost my opportunity for a scholarship. Well, I thought I did. But when I looked around at Infantrymen like Gooch, Gordy, Gray, and others, I knew my real place. So, I went back to AIT and became an Infantryman. During Infantry AIT, our Drill Sergeants did many things to get us to bond and become part of an elite brotherhood, to really belong. One was to guide us in our belief that the sun rises and sets on the asses of Infantrymen. WHY IS THE SKY BLUE PRIVATES? they would demand of us. BECAUSE GOD LOVES THE INFANTRY, DRILL SERGEANT we would proclaim, never loud enough for their satisfaction!

We believed. We belonged. We finally made it. We finally found THE group. It was no longer just a wish to belong. It was no longer only an ideal. We faked it long enough to make it. It was real. We lovingly snubbed the other MOS’s, the other Services, civilians, heck even family to some extent. Belonging gave us confidence, meaning, courage, trust, love, and faith in something higher. Wow, we believed, with the strength of a thousand less equal men. There was nothing we couldn’t do. Drink all night, train and hump a ruck all day, rinse, repeat.

Then, Chapter 3 came. The sky was no longer blue, God no longer loved the Infantry. Why? Why did He do this? He didn’t. We did it. We made such a big deal of our separation from this glorious world where all the women wanted us and all the men wanted to be like us. We proclaimed that this new life sucks, along with all the lazy tree huggers in it. New bosses had no clue. Friends weren’t loyal enough. Civilians just don’t understand. After all, we led men into battle, were accountable for state of the art expensive gear, and were finely tuned machines capable of great peace or extreme violence. And the sky was blue because of it.

The funny thing is, if you check, the sky IS still blue. The problem is the sunglasses you are wearing are tainted. They are tainted with anger, longing for something new seemingly impossible to attain, longing for the good old days, and the belief that Chapter 2 is actually all the chapters and is over now. Chapter 2 is over, Chapter 3 just beginning. We have to look around us and inside us to find a new sense of belonging. Not just at our old buddies but to new relationships. I recall being at a Toby Keith concert after an Afg deployment watching my brethren, only reunited with family members days before, all gathering together chatting. Not with family, but with those they long to be with. I see it everywhere.

It is time to work on new relationships, at work, at home, at church, at the bar, at a local softball league. Having that new sense of belonging will allow us to move into Chapter 3. The belonging will not be the same. It might be better, it might be less. But, it needs to be something. When I retired after 23 years, I thought I would never find the same sense of belonging, of meaning, of something greater than me with like-minded individuals. I couldn’t have been more wrong. I worked for the government developing combat equipment for my brethren for about 9 years. Very rewarding, very meaningful, surrounded by some like-minded people like Pack Man, Scooter, and Big Mike.

Then, when I left the government for warmer pastures, I thought it was over again. O for 2 Smadge! I work with like-minded people who help blind and disabled companies develop and field combat equipment. I also spent about 10 years with some awesome people running a nonprofit helping Veterans transition and thrive. 0 for 3 big guys! The point is, there is so much meaning to be had, like-minded people out there to help change the world, or at least your little part of it, and a lot of work left to be done using your greatness.

So, don’t forget to smile at the blue sky, have faith there is more out there for you, and do your work to get there. Maybe next week we will discuss WHAT MAKES THE GRASS GROW? Until then, be kind to yourself.

—SGM DTB—

Why Junior Won’t Take His Nap

Oh to sleep! I know that many of you just closed your eyes and sighed because you wish you could. I have always loved sleep even when it hasn’t always loved me. The first time I understood that Warriors have issues sleeping was watching MASH. All the characters, totally exhausted, chose not to sleep due to combat-related nightmares. I then recognized it in one of my Majors, after an OEF deployment, likely Chronic Fatigue Syndrome, who was struggling with sleep and always tired. So, what’s the big deal if we don’t sleep? I’ll sleep when I’m dead. I’ll make it up later.

Why don’t Warriors sleep? The physiological and psychological reasons are many. Sleep issues for Warriors start in their training. Early in Chapter 2, we are taught to sleep lightly so we can be ready to go at a moment’s notice; to be on the razor’s edge even while asleep.

In our tactical training, in Chapter 2, we have a “rest plan.” It really should be called an awake plan, because its purpose is to maintain security, a task only done awake. We sleep in shifts depending upon the “threat.” 50% of personnel awake at all times was a normal rest plan. This meant that you and your battle buddy would rotate sleeping all night long, usually in one-hour shifts. If we slept in a tent with an open flame stove, such as the Yukon stove or Space, Heater Arctic, someone had to be awake at all times; more one-hour shifts in our rest plan.

When we aren’t in a tactical training environment we still don’t get our eight hours of beauty rest. Headquarters offices at every level need manning, 24/7. That means lower ranking Warriors get to watch the phones not ring all night. The Charge of Quarters or CQ. We also put a CQ in our barracks to make sure we aren’t sneaking members of the opposite sex into the barracks or being a drunk fool. PS, the CQ never did his job. Higher ranking Warriors don’t have to be CQs. They get to be Staff Duty NCO or Staff Duty Officer. Same no sleep, different title. All these people get the next day off to catch up on their sleep.

In combat, well, forget sleep without meds. The operational tempo (OPTEMPO) is far higher. Longer days, more days, harsher conditions, no comfy beds and blankets, the rockets red glare, the bombs bursting in air, and higher physical demands all lend themself to sheer exhaustion. Sleep wherever and whenever you can, if you can, means no good pattern of sleep. Many of the recent Forward Operating Bases (FOB) and Combat Out Posts (COP) in Afganistan and the Firebases in Vietnam saw harassing fire, probes and attacks day and night, which is not part of the rest plan. A perfect environment to guzzle a half dozen energy drinks per day, though.

And just when thought it was going to get better, some lingering effects also start to rear their ugly head. The symptoms of PTSD, including nightmares, hypervigilance, flashbacks, and hyperarousal, all won’t let Junior take his nap. Injuries and amputations with real and phantom pain upset the normal sleep patterns on top of that.

So, let’s add up Chapter 2’s effects on Chapter 3. Trained to sleep poorly, sleep patterns routinely upset in garrison, training and in combat along with mental and physical scars to our rest plan equals a recipe for disaster, if nothing is done. So, let’s fix this by undoing what we learned and get about establishing a real rest plan.

We need to fix this. Poor sleep is responsible for numerous health problems such as heart disease, mental health illness, and neurological disorders to name a few. Poor sleep results in poor performance at work, in physical activity like working out or competitive sports, in communication with friends and families and virtually every action we participate in every day. So, screwing with the most important part of the day affects the rest of our day, greatly.

So, what do we need to do to rest in Chapter 3? I can tell you that self-medicating is not the answer. Some Warriors self-medicate with alcohol. Ok, that was a lie. A LOT self-medicate with their friends Bud and Jack. That is unconsciousness, not rest. Booze is also a depressant which just exacerbates an already bad situation. This rest plan speeds us downstream to desperation and loss of hope. So let’s forget what we learned, fix what we can and get real rest.

Learn to sleep, deeply. We can work on this in a few ways. We no longer need to sleep lightly. Allow yourself the right to sleep soundly. The enemy is no longer right outside the wire. Next, turn off tech to stop the mind from being barraged by lights and sounds and angry Facebook rants before bed. Then, turn on tech. White noise, cricket sounds or running water are great ways to allow your ears to be alert while not hearing all the little creaks and groans of your apartment that wake you.

Read before bed or use a guided meditation app. Both good ways to wind down. I’ve fallen asleep numerous times merely moments into using this app. And don’t read war studies at bedtime and bring up bad thoughts. I read nothing but non-fiction most of my life. I now read fiction, garbage, so I don’t have to think at all, allowing my mind to just relax. Start off by shooting for only how many hours you think you can sleep soundly, then get up and sit quietly elsewhere.

The bed is for rest, not tv, not eating, not social media. If you make bed a place of rest, a sanctuary of peace, your body will recognize that and work on that pattern positively. If you make it a place to watch WWE for two hours, it will develop a bad pattern as well. Zero stimulation is the goal. Some do, however, recommend exercising right before bed to tire you out. That may work for some, not for others who do intense workouts or get really amped up while working out. Light stretching only is the best recommendation.

Ditch the booze and pick up prescribed sleep meds or over the counter meds used appropriately, if necessary, to help get into a pattern. These things are ok to help get you and keep you asleep. We aren’t looking to be knocked down like a tranquilized rhino. Just enough. Work with your medical professional on what works best for you. Did I mention ditch the booze? Booze affects your liver, which is responsible for good hormones. Mess with and it will pay you back like a liberty weekend in the Philippines. Reduced liver function is responsible for poor sleep. Everything in moderation boys and girls.

And finally, get the best bed and bedding you can afford. You should be spending close to 1/3 of your day on that thing, invest wisely. You spend tens of thousands on a vehicle, guns, gear, eating out, etc., so don’t cheap out on the most important part of your day.

Sleeping soundly will greatly improve your mental and physical well-being in every Chapter of life. So, if you want to get up up each morning ready to take on the day and kick some ass, you have to go to sleep, soundly, first. This installment was a little long, on purpose. I, and science, say proper sleep is the key to a healthy life, no matter the Chapter! Sleep well, my friends.

—SGM DTB—

Transitional Fitness

The whole of fitness is underdescribed in its entirety when we transition from Chapter 2 to Chapter 3. We are told to stay in shape; use it or lose it. A lot of us stay in shape. Pear is a shape, right? But are we doing everything we can to maintain our health? We don’t need to be able to pass the new Army Combat Fitness Test (ACFT) or start up a Combat Fitness Gym, but we do need to take care of our whole health.

An article in Medical News Today describes health as “… physical, mental, and social wellbeing, and as a resource for living a full life.” Nutrition, exercise, proper medical screenings, hydration, proper use of prescribed medicines and supplements, mental health, hygiene, and social engagement are all part of this. In Chapter 1 and Chapter 2, we are taught all these things so it should be easy to maintain them in Chapter 3. If we don’t, why?

In Chapter 1, our parents, teachers, coaches, and clergy teach us the basics of what we need to know. Parents teach us about proper hygiene and health. Shower every day, brush your teeth after every meal, clean under your fingernails, wash your clothes, pick up your room, put on a hat and coat if it’s cold outside, etc. All these things, which we ignore, until they yell at us, form the basis which gets built upon by others in this and Chapter 2.

Coaches teach us how to build muscle and endurance through instruction and competitive sports. They reinforce hygiene making us change our clothes before and after the gym and have us shower so we dont funkify the hallways. Clergy help us with our mental health, teaching us about faith, calm, love thy neighbor but not his wife, be honest, have integrity, be good, help others. Teachers tell us about biology, the health of the human body, what food and water does for us and about illness and disease.

What do we learn in Chapter 2? Get off my grass! That’s what you should have learned Warrior breed. We take the basics we learned in Chapter 1 and fine-tune them, make them all mesh together to make us a high-speed, low-drag, MRE-fueled, beer-cooled, lover of two(men) and killer of commies. We learn that to be a good Warrior we must apply all these things with vigor or jeopardize the mission. Don’t shower and the enemy will smell you. Don’t pick up after yourself and the enemy will track you. Don’t maintain your endurance and the enemy will catch you. Don’t maintain your strength and the enemy will kill you. Don’t love thy neighbor and your troops won’t follow you. Take a knee, face out, drink water, change your socks.

Phew, that’s done. No more early morning PT. I love PT but the military sure has a way to suck the joy out of fun things. So, we work out a bunch less, celebrate with adult beverages while swapping war stories with fellow Warriors and think we are in the clear, maybe with some bumps and bruises. But hey, we are still young…right now. Eventually, we are in damage control mode wondering how we got this beer belly, can only do 20 painful pushups, creek and moan when we get out of the chair, and wonder why people at the bar laugh at us before we tell the funny story. Ouch, MEDIC!

What we haven’t done is use all of our skills, maybe at a slower pace, to maintain our health. So, what to do? Keep moving the day we get out, set up and maintain regular medical appointments, understand we won’t burn as many calories as before and can eat less, continue to help others, be kind and find something that occupies our mind when not working or with family. Let’s break each one down.

Keep moving. You don’t need to be Ranger Joe anymore, doing 2 PT sessions every day lifting massive weights and running so hard you blow snot bubbles down to your knees. But you need to work your cardio and keep your muscles working. Walk your dog a couple of miles every day. If you don’t have one, rescue one. Doing a good thing, saving money by rescuing vs buying, and is great for your mental health. Bam, 3 dead birds. Buy a used treadmill on Craigslist. It doesn’t have to be the top of the line and neither do you. Walk the neighbor’s dog, being kind and fit all at once. Work your muscles by doing your own landscaping. It will save money and use muscles that are more than just pushing weights in a gym. Volunteer at a food shelf. Moving cases of food around while helping thy neighbor who really needs it, win-win.

Medical screening. Don’t start on how the VA sucks, I get it. Comp and Pen sucks and so do some clinics. But some are good, too. The point…document your health, get screening for your ailments, referrals for specialist stuff. Seek a job with health benefits so you don’t have to rely on VA. Use TRICARE if you can. I know, the Marine Corps broke me, they should fix me. But going down the road of righteousness at the expense of your health may be a plan worth re-thinking. Don’t give up, but don’t throw the big fat baby out with the bathwater.

Mental health. This needs an entire subdivision (installment). Treat it like physical health if it is broken. Stop thinking civilian Doctors can’t help you. They can and will; trust my crazy and counseled brain. But it is more than treating PTSD etc. It is about being positively, socially engaged with other humans, having a job to motivate us and challenge our brains, loving another human or dog or stupid cat, helping our fellow man to give us faith in ourselves and others. It is so many things, easily done. It is not ruminating that Chapter 3 sucks, non-Warriors don’t understand, Chapter 3 is meaningless, I am meaningless. Sounds kind of dumb when you see it written down, doesnt it.

So, let’s maintain our health, wholly. It’s not just pushups, situps, and a 2-mile run. It is maintaining the whole of our self.

Sergeant Major is done talking now. You can open your soup cooler and help your fellow Warriors with examples of what you do.

—SGM DTB—