It All Hit Me at Once

It was 4th of July. At this point I have been out of the Army for nine months. I was so excited still to be home. What I did not seem to realize was that the fifteen months that I spent in Iraq had effected me.

As a twenty three year old prior service military woman I felt fierce! I felt as if there was nothing in the entire world that could stop me. I had survived Iraq, for 15 months no less. I walked around headstrong and confident... and maybe even a little cocky. But hey, isn't that the way someone at 23 is supposed to be?

I had just come back to California to take care of my mother, who was heavily adicted to opiates(little did I know). I had a two month old baby, Adrian, who was the center of my universe, and I was free. On the outside. I wobbled through the start of my adventure back in the states. I was trying to be perfect.... and failing at it miserably.

I was constantly asking my mom to watch my son so that I could selfishly go act like a 23 year old with no responsibilities. So I decided that scenes how I did not have a drill sergeant putting me in the front leaning rest ( which means push ups) I was going to resort back to an old friend....ALCOHOL. We went through our own little love hate relationship, but it got old quick and besides I had a baby.

July 4, 2011- Right after sunset

My mom and I were sitting at a local coffee shop in San Jose, Ca called Coffee Society. We had just been to an AA meeting and that seemed to be one of the local hangouts for everyone in her sober social circle. There we are having a good talk talking and hanging out amongst probably fifty or sixty people when all of a sudden.... BOOM!!!! BOOM!!!! BOOM!!!

The 4th of July fireworks started to go off all around us. It hit me all at once. At this point I was no longer sitting at the coffee shop; in my mind I went straight back to Iraq. I didn't see civillians, I saw soldiers. All the while I am screaming to my "battle buddies," "GET DOWN!!!!! COVER!!!!!" I thought I was saving them... but I soon realized that i was the only one there...

My mom got under the table with me and hugged me until I snapped out of it. When I came to everyone was staring at me and my mom tried to explain, "She just got home from IRAQ" but I was mortified. I got up and ran into the bathroom and cried for what seemed like forever.

But what still resonates with me as much now as it did then, was that when I opened the door there was an old man standing there when I walked out of the bathroom. As I went to look at him I immediately looked right back down fearful of whether or not he knew that I was the maniac that flipped out in the outside sitting area. He stopped me. "Pick your head up Soldier," he said to me, "You may have been through hell out there, but that hell does not define you. You fought and have no reason to be ashamed. Stand tall for all of OUR friends who gave their lives and can no longer stand up. These memories wil never leave you but they will always help you to battle through your life when times get rough. Fall out!"

It all hit me at once. I realized that the war really f*cked me up but that I was not alone. You are not defined by how you fall or how much it hurts, but by the way you stand up and live the rest of your life using your past as an experience to make you stronger.