Not 100% sure this actually belongs here since the military in general is different than the real world where people respect at least a few of our rights, but here goes. I've been working on getting separated from the army for almost a year straight due to my lack of a stable mental health. Mentality wise, I'm one week into a two week notice, but I'm one of those weird people who just genuinely finds pleasure in working. I don't care about the praise, the false promises of promotions, etc., etc., it's purely a me thing. I love being dog ass tired at the end of the day and having either a really big job taken care of or a lot of little ones. Gives me a sense of value and a feeling of being worth a damn.
Over Christmas, I tried to kill myself. Didn't tell anyone about it until after the break, got myself landed in the psych ward again. Had a nice 2 week vacation and came out on some new pills and maybe with a little bit of positivity. A couple of days go by and my platoon sarnt starts trying to convince me to stay in the military because I'm “a really good soldier. You do things without questioning them or complaining.” As if the only thing that makes me worth anything is my odd love of work itself.
Doesn't quite end there, as I've gotten dangerously close to finally getting out and stopped taking my meds as they have severe symptoms upon withdrawal and my situation back home will require me to immediately enter the work force or simply starve to death lol, and claims with the VA can take months, so I'd be off my meds at some point regardless. Let my command know my plan and had a loose verbal acknowledgment of support and understanding of my situation, my work ethic having earned me goodwill enough to be off my game for a few weeks as I try and prepare myself for the future. Except this sarnt didn't fully seem to support what that'd actually entail as I can barely walk 4 feet before the room starts spinning and the blood rushes out of my face. I had section leaders ordering me to sit down before I fell down. The man had the gall to change the tune he was playing when I was breaking my back for a company that didn't give a single shit about me and told me “If this was a real job, you'd be fired.” Took everything in me not to start listing every illegal thing that I saw while serving that, were this a real world job, I'd be fucking suing the company for, or contacting OSHA, or very simply quitting with no notice. Fuck your shitty ass organisation. But he continued: “Right now you have the luxury of being able to go to the hospital during work hours. That won't be the case on the outside.” Again, took way too much restraint not to start cussing the man out. My work ethic is quite literally the only thing I take pride in. I'm not some kid who'll sit around and make 200 different excuses as to why I cannot get a job done because I simply don't want to do it. I don't disappear from work after lunch every single day, or simply not even show up in the first place. I do what I feel needs to be done , complete my job to fullest of my capability day in and day out because I just genuinely enjoy it. Sure, I still have days where I think all day “I'll burn this fucker to the ground with everyone in it.” but who doesn't?
So I looked him in the eye and told him “I've never been in a hospital until I got here.” I'm not sure if it was my tone or the way I was looking at him but he limply said “Yeah, hospitals can be expensive.”
Tl;dr – I fucking hate this fucking place please send help haha