Jennifer and Lee

Waiting for darkness
Why doesn’t anybody see now
Deafened by silence
Why doesn’t anybody hear

I’m waiting for darkness

Playing with fire
But they’re screaming when they’re burned, yeah
Out of the sunlight
Hasn’t anybody learned

I know what they’ll find
It’s in their mind
It’s what they want to see
Spare me from the light
Here comes the night
And here I’ll stay

Waiting for darkness
I’m waiting for darkness
I’m waiting for darkness
I’m waiting for darkness

Promise me rebirth
And then you tear me from the womb
Give me my freedom
And then you lock me in a tomb

I know what they’ll find
It’s in their mind
It’s what they want to see
Spare me from the light
Here comes the night
And here I’ll stay

Waiting for darkness
You gotta believe
You gotta believe it’s true
I’m waiting for darkness
I just can’t conceive
Why darkness is overdue

I’m waiting for darkness
I’m waiting for darkness
I’m waiting for darkness

Who knows the answers
Is it friend or is it foe
Don’t ask me questions
There are things you should not know

I know what you’ll find
It’s in your mind
It’s what you want to see
Spare me from the light
Here comes the night
And here I’ll stay

Waiting for darkness
I’m waiting for darkness
I’m waiting for darkness
I’m waiting for darkness
I’m waiting for darkness
I’m waiting for darkness
I’m waiting for darkness
I’m waiting for dark…

Source: Musixmatch

Songwriters: Ozzy Osbourne

“I just want to disappear” are the last words I said to medical personnel and those same words would end my Air Force career for good.

I’m not exactly sure where to start as I’ve never put words to any of this before but here goes. I want to talk about the anger and sadness I felt my entire life. It would not be until I went through some old family pictures and moved from Maine to California to save my life that everything would present itself to me. All it took was some narcissist experts on Twitter and Instagram and I started figuring sh*t out one person at a time. You see this behavior started for me in childhood and much like my military career at the end, I wanted to disappear from my home life too. And that’s exactly what I did. When I turned 18, I left for college and was planning on never looking back. I hated my life in rural western Maine. There was nothing there for me yet that’s exactly where I would end up even though I swore to never return.

I thought I could make it on my own and I was determined to make a better life for myself after the hell I went through in my toxic home. I knew anything was better than that sh*t and I was gonna make it happen. I mistakenly believed that if I got a bachelor’s degree I would be all set for life. I was wrong. But I went to college at the University of Maine at Farmington my freshman year and would quickly realize college was a piece of cake for me and I had nothing to worry about where this was concerned. So I decided to dream bigger. My high school sweetheart joined the Army and was stationed at Fort Wainwright in Alaska. He wanted to get married but I put the brakes on that sh*t real quick like after what I witnessed with my mother’s two marriages. I decided why not transfer to the University of Alaska Fairbanks and give this relationship a chance before I say yes (or no) to marriage with him.

Fast forward to graduation year in 1994 and I would find myself single after five years with the same man. I really loved this guy but he broke my heart and I just couldn’t get over it. I really felt like we were a team and nothing would come in between us but there were signs. He transferred to Fort Campbell, Kentucky and I moved on with my last semester of college in Alaska. I decided I didn’t like being landlocked in Alaska so I thought it would be a good idea to move back to Maine and start a life. Where else was I going to go? My husband Lee and I have had this conversation multiple times because of my regret over moving back to Maine but like he said where was I going to go with no support. At least in Maine I felt a sense of familiar. Things would go wrong immediately and only continue to get worse the longer I lived in the State. Both Lee and I would be broken and beat down by the time our U-Haul was packed.

We didn’t have much money growing up. But I’d rather be broke than endure my mother’s toxic relationship with her second husband. After he left the home when I was in sixth grade, we only got poorer. My mother’s words seared into my head forever in the eighth grade: “If you want him gone, then you better get a job because you’re on your own.” And she f*cking meant it. Not only did she choose her second husband over her two children from a previous marriage but she would not help us in any way. She kept all her money for herself and she gave us her second husband’s money when he forked it out to her. Meanwhile, she reminded me over and over how “evil” my real father was. Her second husband hated me, I was confused about my dad, and my mother cared more about her child support check than she did us. She didn’t give two f*cks about me at all nor did she protect me.

I was forced to move back to my mom’s dumpy house in rural Maine when I got home from college. I had nowhere to go. I had no money. I needed somewhere to land and get my feet on the ground again. My mother was living in Portland, Maine and she had a new man so she was nowhere to be found. But her empty house was free to be lived in. Like I said she never helped me with anything so of course she didn’t give me any money even though she had a good paying job. I was forced to apply for food stamps from the State of Maine and those helped. I had no car. So it was kinda hard to get a job without a car. I was f*cking stuck and wasn’t sure how I was going to get out of it. Meanwhile my mother’s second husband is banging down my door demanding the college loan money I owed him. Once again, my mother wouldn’t help me with an emergency, she used this guy’s money to do it.

This guy couldn’t make it anymore obvious that he didn’t want me back in Western Maine. And I didn’t want to be there anymore either. But I was completely alone with no support, no job, no money, no car, nothing and this mother f*cker is giving me a hard time about owing him $5000. I also owed $20,000 I wasn’t sure how I was gonna pay back without a goddamn job. No breaks in life given to this cat in this f*cking family. Oh and my mother f*cked my credit when I was 19 and racked up three separate credit cards in my name and decided not to pay them. Again, her second husband bailed her out of this mess no problem when she was held accountable. It was either pay these f*cking credit cards off or I am going to press charges and get this money owed put in your name. It felt like I was swimming against the tides.

I wanted out of rural Maine so I reached out to my real dad in the hopes he would give me a helping hand with a car so I could get a job. I was no stranger to working; I just needed a car to get there. I hadn’t talked to him much while I was in college but I would find out that he was proud of me for going to college. My dad was willing to help me get a car and it would be this kind gesture and his desire to be my dad that would be the beginning of us rekindling our relationship. I would learn over time that my dad was a kind and gentle man. I always wanted a relationship with my dad but I was confused about who he was because my mother pounded into my head that he was “evil.” I didn’t know what to think. I tried the whole time to keep him in my life but I was struggling with my home life in secrecy and I wanted out of Western Maine where my mother and father were both located.

I got the car and that helped get me the job. I got hired as a housing case manager for a local community action program and would eventually find an apartment in Portland, Maine. I didn’t have much but I had my own place. And this is when I would learn that having a Bachelor’s degree doesn’t do sh*t to pull one out of poverty and higher education is necessary. I was barely making ends meet, working 2-3 jobs at a time including per diem work, and wanted to get my master’s degree to help me succeed. At the same time, the student loans I needed for school were coming due. I didn’t know how I was going to swing the payment every month. And then one day I saw an ad for the National Guard and a military student loan repayment program. I was already looking into community policing so why not do this for the State. One weekend a month; two weeks a year to help my home State with natural disasters. I can handle that.

It would turn out to be the biggest mistake of my life.

My service was kinda like the move back to Maine. Everything was going wrong. I had no flow. My life was a constant struggle but luckily my dad was around to make me feel less alone while I was living in Portland. My mom was around too but she gave me anxiety and triggered me all the time. No matter how hard I tried to have a relationship with her, it just wasn’t working. I didn’t know back then what the f*ck was going on but I do now. She abandoned me emotionally at birth. She left my dad, married a new man, chose him over her kids from a previous marriage despite his ill treatment, dissed my father, didn’t help us with anything, and told us to get a job if we didn’t want her second husband’s abuse in the house. I couldn’t put it all together back then because of the non stop manipulation but I see it now loud and clear. Actions speak louder than words and actions tell me everything I need to know.

My first encounter with evil in the National Guard was with the recruiter. I’m sure he saw a young, naive woman and because he was a predator, he may have even seen the childhood trauma. I was and am to this day a very sheltered and innocent type person. I am a rule follower. I do everything to perfection to prevent criticism and abuse. And my trauma response is to work hard. I have always been a hard worker and every job I have ever worked got 110% out of me. I went above and beyond and had pride in all my positions. I got a 94 on the ASVAB and the National Guard started stalking me for reals. Although I wanted to go security forces, they wanted me to go satellite communications technician which was considered a critical career field and came with more educational benefits. I would get the student loan repayment program, the GI Bill and a GI Bill kicker in addition to getting E-3 rank because I had a bachelor’s degree. These mother f*ckers love bombed me and then the recruiter drugged and raped me.

I didn’t know what to do with what happened to me but I also didn’t want this recruiter to f*ck up my plans to get my student loans paid off and get some help with a master’s degree. I should have taken this criminal act as a forewarning of what was to come. But who would think it could get any worse than this? The ads were professional. The military had been around forever. And women had been serving for years. Yea, I was that naive. I just assumed the U.S. military was a professional government organization. And it would turn out to be the biggest cluster f*ck one could ever witness because of piss poor management and toxic leadership. I just assumed equality. Nope. These mother f*ckers weren’t even prepared for women in the combat communications squadron. The uniforms, the boots, the accommodations, bathrooms, and sexual assault prevention were not part of the implementation apparently.

Because of the Armed Forces marketing efforts, I just assumed there were more women than there were. Nope. I was the only female in most settings and it became my worst nightmare. I could not run and I could not hide. I would be sexually assaulted and harassed by three more offenders in the first two years of my career. I was forced to report my supervisor who attempted to rape me during an Operational Readiness Exercise. When I reported this guy, I reported all four offenders to the Commander. I was done. I couldn’t take one more second of these guys doing whatever. They were so brazen, they didn’t even think I would report. And actually I didn’t. I told someone in confidence who said either I report or they will. I was ready. I couldn’t take working for an offender who had control over my life. The daily interaction had me tap dancing with the devil. He acted like we were in a relationship. I wanted no part of this guy’s delusions. His behavior was appalling and it looked like he showed favoritism towards me too.

I would quickly figure out that reporting crime in the U.S. military comes with consequences. Although the recruiter skipped town and offender #2 was active duty, two of the offenders at my squadron were forced out; the supervisor was forced to retire and the other offender was honorably discharged. I would later find out he joined the National Guard in another State and eventually ended up working for the Pentagon. I got my a$$ jumped for this piece of sh*t. I learned the hard way that you don’t f*ck with the good ole boys in the combat communications squadron in Maine. I tried to press charges against the offenders in the physical attack with no success: I said it was retaliation for reporting him for sexual assault and harassment; they said it was a case of “mistaken identity”; and the prosecutor said it was a “bar room brawl” because my PTSD had the nerve to rear it’s ugly head after being beaten as a kid, raped and sexually assaulted as a young service member, and jumped from behind in a blitz like attack.

It would be this beat down by fellow Guardsmen in a local establishment, the lack of justice, the continuing retaliation by military leadership, and the fact that I had to depend on any of these f*cks in a wartime environment that would force me to bail on this toxic mess. I found myself a new satellite communications position at a new squadron in Cape Cod, Massachusetts and I demanded the Commander sign the paperwork and allow me to escape this hostile work environment. They weren’t only beating me down after the trauma of being a victim of crime multiple times but they were beating me down while my father was battling first throat cancer and then terminal bone cancer. I made sure my new Commander understood how much my father meant to me and asked that he please support me while I spend time with him. He was cool with this arrangement until 9/11 and sh*t hit the fan.

And then my father died by suicide on September 15, 2001. My new Commander, along with a chaplain, would deliver the fateful news. I dropped to the ground in pain and anguish because I didn’t get to say goodbye to him. I couldn’t cope. My co-workers had to drive me and my car back to Maine. And I hoped I never had to see any of these people ever again but as it would turn out I was stop-lossed by the government because I was in a critical career field. My Commander gave me 30 or so days to grieve and then I was to report back to the squadron to run the Satellite Communications work center and train any and all new troops who walked through the door. I was placed in a non-deployability status; my entire shop was deployed in October 2001; and the rest of the squadron would quickly follow suit. Meanwhile, I was teaching myself how to run the shop, run all the equipment, train the personnel, maintain deployable packages, prepare for exercises & inspections, and support those coming and going on deployments.

After my father died, my mental health and physical health deteriorated. I was working on orders in Cape Cod, Massachusetts, living in old Air Force dorms during the week, and driving back to Maine on the weekends to tend to a new home that I had inherited. It was a 2700 square foot house and I not only didn’t plan on being a homeowner but didn’t want to be one especially in rural Western Maine again. This was not where I wanted to be, only 30 minutes away from the family drama. But I was in the military, I had no control over my life, I needed a place to live, and I was too goddamned f*cked up to even think about life changes at this point. I was not only not doing well but my health kept getting worse and worse. It started getting so bad, I was vomiting, getting excruciating headaches, and falling out of exercises where I was legitimately depended on. But the medical personnel always treated me and was able to get back to work as quickly as possible. As a result, my new nickname at this squadron was “hurl girl.”

I was stop lossed with this combat communication squadron for four years. I worked for the most toxic leadership ever and unfortunately because the old squadron in Maine called my new squadron in Massachusetts and told them I was a troublemaker, things started off bad and they only got worse. For example, I would be told to “get over” my father’s death, shamed for taking “happy pills,” have my security clearance threatened because of my non deployability status, punished & shamed instead of trained if they believed I made any “mistakes,” passed over for a team chief position by someone I trained, delayed promotions to E-5 and E-6 for no reason, no time off ever, and they threatened to take my E-6 rank for “substandard performance.” This is so goddamn laughable now because these mother f*ckers refused to train me so I trained myself. I did it better than they did including training personnel and treating people with dignity and respect. And they had to literally use subjective and made up sh*t to support their narrative. I b*tch slapped them with a JAG and the EEO office.

I was p*ssed. I was working my a$$ off for these people. I had no life. I gave up a family. I was juggling my newly acquired fixer upper home with the demands of the combat communications squadrons. I was reliable, dependable, and almost f*cking perfect and these mother f*ckers gave me a hard time about every f*cking little thing. This was the most hostile work environment I could ever imagine. There was no sexual assault or sexual harassment at this squadron; but there was definitely gender discrimination and/or women hating vibes in the satellite communications workcenter. I was already struggling with the trauma from the sexual assaults, rape, retaliation and my father’s suicide; these people were literally pushing me to suicide too. I wanted to die on the highway in what appeared to be a car accident so nobody could have the satisfaction of knowing they pushed me to this. After I left work for the week, I contemplated it on the way home on the fast paced Massachusetts highways every f*cking time.

After the stop loss was lifted, Lee and I found our way back to each other and we decided to start a life together. I left the combat communications squadrons where I felt women were not welcomed and Lee left the active duty Air Force so he could be with me. We transferred to the Maine Air National Guard and this time we joined a civil engineering squadron. This too would turn out to be a toxic work environment for different reasons. I didn’t observe sexual assault or gender discrimination but the good ole boys definitely ran this place and it became real f*cking clear real quick who the Commander favored. With no treatment in the first ten years of my career, I was not doing well and it was negatively impacting my relationship with Lee so I started getting some help from the VA. But the military leadership would handle this medical update like the true douche bags that they are. My supervisor pushed me to an emotional overload by purposely stressing me out and then backed me into a corner and started yelling at me. It resulted in me spinning out, having a panic attack, and feeling suicidal again.

I told the medical personnel after I was pulled from the ORE that I just wanted to disappear. And this would be the theme of my life and exactly what I did after I got out of the military. I would spend the next twelve years in isolation in my father’s home fighting off suicide and other health issues to no avail. Lee and I would realize we had limited access to healthcare in rural Maine. The only option we had for specialized military PTSD care was at the VA Maine Healthcare System about two hours away. We did what we had to do but no matter how much mental health treatment I got, I was still not getting better and we didn’t know why. The sicker I got, the more I wanted to isolate. Lee was getting sicker too. We kept going back to the doctors only to be offered pills that masked things or be told that our “labs were normal.” Meanwhile, our health was deteriorating and no one would listen to us! It would be Lyme disease that pushed our health over the edge and forced us to sell the house in search of healthcare.

We moved to Southern California, found a Lyme literate doctor right away, and he has been helping us rebuild our lives ever since. By the time we got to California, we were on our deathbeds and we had no idea what was going on with our bodies but we kept getting weaker and experiencing more pain. Our doctor took over our care immediately by doing tests, finding out what was wrong, and treating things one disease at a time. We’ve been in treatment for over a year now and we’re still peeling back the layers of the onion trying to figure out what the root causes of our health issues are. I learned I have chronic lead poisoning and high levels of lead have caused all kinds of problems in my body including burton’s line, a blocked intestine, and brain inflammation. And we’re still working on Lee’s root causes but we have since learned that anxiety is causing him problems you would never even imagine. More to come on this subject. The bottom line is we’re both looking at another two years of intense medical treatment to make up for over a decade of medical neglect at the VA Maine healthcare system.

I’ve been waiting for darkness ever since I was a kid. I can’t even believe I made it this far with absolutely zero support from my “family.” My dead father helped me more in life than the people who raised me. But I felt like I lost everything after I lost my father. I no longer had any hope or anyone legitimate and kind to turn to for support or to ask for help or even a hand up in life. But after selling my father’s home, I would realize he gave me the ultimate hand up in life. The same home he gave to me to protect me and make me feel safe in Maine also gave Lee and I the means to move to California and get the healthcare we both deserved. Interestingly enough, Lee stepped into my life around the same time my father died and would become the rock I needed to make it in life with a disability. We are coming back to life. We both have a long way to go and a lifetime of trauma to address but we’re fully invested in ourselves and each other. For the first time in my life, I don’t want to die. And Lee and I can finally be our authentic selves.

Where were you when I was burned and broken?
While the days slipped by from my window watching
And where were you when I was hurt and I was helpless?
‘Cause the things you say and the things you do surround me
While you were hanging yourself on someone else’s words
Dying to believe in what you heard
I was staring straight into the shining sun

Lost in thought and lost in time
While the seeds of life and the seeds of change were planted
Outside, the rain fell dark and slow
While I pondered on this dangerous but irresistible pastime
I took a heavenly ride through our silence
I knew the moment had arrived
For killing the past and coming back to life

I took a heavenly ride through our silence
I knew the waiting had begun
And headed straight into the shining sun

Source: Musixmatch

Songwriters: David Jon Gilmour