Behind the Mask

Journal: January 1, 2016

0630 hours

Happy New Years to me!!!

I don't have a resolution for anything really. But, I guess I could try to restore my hair before school starts again. I am used to my short hair by now, but I REALLY miss running my fingers through the long strands. 

Its almost the end of the week. 6/8th, 6/7th, or 5/6th, whatever it might be. Hope I can keep the energy alive. Today will be really busy and difficult for us. New Years, New Performances. 

1200 hours

Fuck the Chain of Command of my division. 

First of all , he RPOC is acting like he's a higher rank or some shit. His stare always telling: "I'm gonna report you." 

AROC is a straight-up, hypocritical, annoying, self-centered, and show off bitch. He doesn't know how to lead, and certainly doesn't deserve leadership. 

Wilkins is just Recruit, 17 years old. His cadences from his period of leadership is absolutely terrible and inconsistent. Afterwards, he is acting like his is the leader of everyone. Speaking up at the wrong time with messages that stand different from what he actually does. Like, WHY THE FUCK are you calling an "hoo-rah" whenever the god damn DIVO is done speaking with something motivational? If anything, that's the fucking RPOC's job you goddamn bitch. Just because you have more muscle, are taller, and more older that the rest of us doesn't give you any privileges to speak. YOU ARE A FUCKING PART OF THE DIVISION, you FUCKING ATTENTION WHORE. 

Rizo is the same shit. 

Some of these people are just wrong and stupid. I've been in the Navy Leaguers for 4 years, and they are treating me like I just joined a fucking month ago. I WAS A FUCKING LPO at my unit for 3 months. I WAS STAFFING ORIENTATION for goodness sake. I ATTENDED 8 TRAININGS, jesus fucking christ. 

These last days are always the hardest. 

2100 hours

Tomorrow is the last full day of training. To be completely honest, I used to think that I'd cry during RT at least once. I was wrong. 

6 to 8 months ago, I was staffing Navy League Orientation, the younger equivalent of Boot Camp. Back then, I was the runt of the command. The only one that cried. The one sucking up all the wrongs and faults of my company. I honestly think that, back then, I was the one being taught, instead of the young recruits. 

That memory is still fresh. Still painful. Ever since that day, I've hated the Sea Cadets. I just didn't think I'd make it through with the way I always said, "alright" before a stating a command. The way I forgot everything that was instructed of me. The way I was never perfect enough. 

All of that, from the young mind of 13-year old. The stress as overwhelming as any other traumatic event in my past. But, writing still today, still suffering form the flashbacks of that time, the same thoughts of suicide, and the same monsters that have stayed all my life, I am still alive. I've been brave. This memory to me today, was all WRONG. Forged by evil. Shaping my head into a demon. 

To this day, I remember them, my older staff cadets, as evil. They were WRONG to criticize me. Bully me. Hurting me. Hazing me. From that moment that I chose to forget, I've hated those who through that DEPRESSION WAS A CHOICE. That they were "DEPRESSED". Those who disregarded my pain. Because, all of them were wrong. TO me, Boot Camp is jack shit. Nothing, close to nothing, or something worthless. I've been through worse than this camp. I've cried much longer. Cussed much more. And thought much darker. 

2130 hours

Anyway. Today was a mix of good and bad. 

Bad, being that I've gotten a few gigs for the Division. Most of it from my crappy performance on the BDU uniform inspection. The blousing straps on my boots were crappy. 

Good, being that I won the Knock-Out drill for both Division and Battalion level, which gave back much more than the ones I lost. Take a second to think about it. I was the best of the 35 in my Division. I was also the best from the best of each Division. 8 Divisions in total. 30 in each. That means I've overcome over 300 other recruits. How about THAT, motherfuckers! :D

I've never felt so proud in my life, being that I've never actually made more than one person happy for me, beside my closest friends. I finally made someone proud of me for doing something good. Its a rare emotion, because I've been raised in an environment of negative reinforcement. I've never tasted either for a while. 

I can't wait to tell my parents, mostly my mom, about this. I can't wait to talk to my school squad, the only one where I am accepted to, again. I can't wait to finish my Youtube feed. I can't wait to finish my Youtube feed. I can't wait for a lot of things, especially that rush of anxiety I've always experienced from the last 8 trainings I've attended, during each Graduation ceremony. I kind of miss my old life, my old hair, my old personalities. The ones I've developed through training are much more extreme and dull forms of me. I think I should list my personalities here. 

Suicidal 

Depression

Abandonment

Stress

Emptiness

Bitch

Pissed

Sadness

Anxiety

Tired

Serious

Confused

Bored

Shy

Hyper

Proud 

Respectful

Determined

Friendlly

Happiness

* * * * *

I'm tired of people saying that my depression is light. I hate it when people judge me depression for the words I write. Because honestly, I don't write well when it comes to turning thoughts into paper. I wrie to express emotions. Mostly pain, depression, and hope. The next person that mentions that I'm faking it, I just might actually might just act upon it .