Posted on 09/19/2009 10:20:07 PM PDT by B-Chan
OK: here's why I got kicked out of the U.S. Navy, short version.
Autumn, 1984: I was a 4.0 (top-performing) sailor, a petty officer (NCO) right out of "A" School (Navy vocational training school), and was on the fast track to a great career as a naval nuclear power worker -- until I lost my marbles.
Summer, 1985: It happened while I was in Nuke School (Naval Nuclear Power School, then located in Orlando, Florida): the stress levels, lack of sleep, and physical environment of Rickover City triggered in me a full-on case of clinical depression, complete with physical symptoms (shingles, among others), psychotic episodes, the works. I called it "the Fog". I was bad off, doing all kinds of crazy stuff -- and no one noticed. Instead, they waited until my grades dropped below the requisite levels, then flunked me out and sent me to the Fleet.
Autumn, 1985: I reported for duty aboard the aircraft carrier USS Enterprise (CVN-65). Aboard ship, I started off doing well -- but soon enough the Fog began creeping in again. As any sailor knows, the danger of having someone with a severe untreated psychiatric condition aboard ship is extreme -- although I wasn't capable of deliberate violence against others, my inability to focus on (or often even understand) what was going on around me, combined with periodic out-of-my-freaking-mind episodes, could have gotten me and many others killed out there. I thank God that my guardian angel was on the job! Toward the end I was doing some truly strange things -- a licensed psychiatrist would have diagnosed me correctly in about ten seconds. I was, frankly, nuts.
Yet no one noticed.
January-February 1986: The ship departed the Golden Gate for her yearly western Pacific deployment, which soon became a round-the-world cruise due to a sudden flare-up of violence in the Mediterranean Sea. We made port at Pearl Harbor, then crossed the ocean to Subic Bay in the Philippines. My brief visit to Olangapo City, one of the world's most famous liberty ports, was an introduction to the sad (and sordid) realities of Real Life, but I left the P.I. with no harm done save to my moral state. We spent a few weeks dodging Russian recon planes in the South Pacific, then headed west towards the Straits of Malacca on our way to the Indian Ocean.
By the time we reached Singapore, however, the Fog had gotten too thick for me to see through; I was no longer capable of standing watches (working my normal hours) or dealing with the day-to-day routines of shipboard life. Instead, I would hide in the #4 shaft alley (ship's propeller shaft area) for hours on end out of fear. Finally, my LPO (job supervisor) sent me to sickbay (the ship's medical facility) for an evaluation. The Navy M.D. aboard ship classified me as a malingerer (a person who feigns illness in order to escape work) with an attitude problem. He also found a bad epidermal "fungal infection" (in reality, severe eczema) and assigned me to light duty in the ship's library. By then I was barely rational and totally out of control. On the advice of my shipmates in the library (who were more than understanding, God bless them), I filed a lengthy medical discharge request, which when read today is obviously the product of a deeply troubled person.
Denied, of course!
March-May 1985: The cruise continued; I carried on as best I could...
I was a sub guy, so what they would usually do would be to fly them out to our next port, or next place we were doing a SBT (Small Boat Transfer re: jump off a tug boat). Then they would immediately go to CO’s Mast.
I saw many shipboard personnel exhibiting abnormal and harmful behavior when at sea during my time aboard Enterprise. In my day, most of these cases were "treated" by threats and violence from above, along with plenty of the Navy's favorite RX, Boozacillin. When one considers the stress, lack of sleep, constant noise, lack of privacy, and other pressures of life afloat aboard carriers and subs, it's amazing that the Navy does not make psychiatry an integral part of shipboard medical care. Thank God I only hurt myself during my adventure with bad brain chemistry on the high seas -- the next crazy guy might do a lot more damage. Remember the Iowa...
And thanks for the advice about therapy. With God's help, I have been able to control my depression with a relatively mild dose of Paxil. I'd prefer not to take it (the side effects and withdrawal symptoms suuuuck), but therapy is expensive, and I'm a writer by trade -- you do the math. Maybe someday!
The same thing happens to some SEALs (and I imagine other SF groups). I remember inquiring about them at the Navy Recuiter who told me a fair portion of them “crack” under the strain (i.e. go mental). I’m glad I don’t have to do what those guys do, but I do wish they were paid more considering the higher risks!
Thank you for your kind words.
LOL Probably the “Loser List”!
I hope things have gotten better! They certainly couldn’t have gotten much worse than they were when I was “haze gray and underway”.
They flew me on and off in a C-2. Fun ride — wish I’d been more “there” at the time!
We had similar stuff down in MMR #4. Those were great fellas down there — I wonder what happened to them?
I appreciate your thoughtful remarks. Yes, I got got the old Navy “get your sh_t squared away, sailor” speech on more than one occasion. Too bad I couldn’t even figure out where my sh_t was at the time... OFW
> And thanks for the advice about therapy. With God’s help, I have been able to control my depression with a relatively mild dose of Paxil. I’d prefer not to take it (the side effects and withdrawal symptoms suuuuck), but therapy is expensive, and I’m a writer by trade — you do the math. Maybe someday!
Paroxitine is VERY unpleasant, as you say, and it stuffs up thought processes something shocking.
Have you tried Venlafaxine? It is an SNRI, so it works quite differently to Paroxitine. I find it is much, much better and if there are any known side effects I have not experienced them. It also works really well with Lithium for me, which I need for bipolar disorder.
Since I have been on this particular combination I have had clarity of thought, and I cannot remember having felt so lucid.
Therapy in the form of NLP has also been helpful, but I think it would be a very expensive way to get treatment.
You know, in my experience it wasn’t really a matter of cracking under the strain. Depression is more like getting a gigantic Novocain shot in your soul... you slowly grow less and less able to relate to or find any sense in life, until finally you just sort of lose contact with reality.
Stress actually helped me focus, which is why I was able to go cuckoo for Cocoa Puffs out there without getting anybody hurt. Scraping out a hot bilge focuses the mind wonderfully, and humping 20-lb buckets of Naval Lubricating Oil up from the MMR to the main deck and down again to the #4 shaft alley bearings for twelve hours is the equivalent of a week in a Zen monastery.
Jesus Christ! And I mean that as a prayer, not a blasphemy. May God comfort you and yours in every way.
Thanks for the advice! I’ll check it out.
I can only imagine that the razzing would never end. Oh the nicknames.
We used to sit and look at our bench grinder for hours on end. Why? It was painted red. Something different in an engine room of Machinery gray and sea foam green. I won’t even go on a Cruise because the crap would hit the fan and down in the engineroom i’d be again.
I know how it is mang. The Navy drove me to the edge of sanity on many occasions. I even had a recurrence at work the other day. Stuff was broke and the plant manager literally grabbed a friend and turned him around to yell at him because something wasn’t working. He’s like 23 and my junior guy. I said, look lady, this isn’t the Navy, you can’t treat people like that.
I do feel bad for you because I had my first-classes, chiefs, and even my Div-o go to bat for me when I went through my problems. Well except once. But whatever.
did you see this thread earlier?
http://www.freerepublic.com/focus/f-chat/2343954/posts
speaking of depression!
I never gave crap to the guys that missed movement. They had enough on their hands.
Oh and it was always my dream to take the Nights roving watch and get in with the SRO and turn over a critical plant making it’s own power.
You might do a few years in Levenworth, but it would be quite the story
> I’m not sure where in the story you could expect anyone to diagnose clinical depression. None of them were psychiatrists were they?
Most competent GPs can diagnose and treat clinical depression — increasingly so as awareness is growing. Psychiatrists only really get involved if you’ve got something more exciting, like bipolar disorder, that requires treatment with medication.
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