16 December, 2025 – 17 January 2026
I started writing this post last month / year. A lot can change in a month. I wasn’t in a great mood last month. Perhaps that is the lesson. No matter how bad or good it gets, things are constantly changing. As shitty as I felt over the holidays, I feel better now. Oh, and I was listening to a lot of Pearl Jam over the holidays and that is where the title of this post comes from. -17JAN26
Nothingman
Before I got sober and entered recovery from alcoholism (ahem, Alcohol Use Disorder), PTSD, and some various other contributing factors, I lived a dual life. I presented to the world an artificial person; an officer in the U.S. Army, competent in both leading Soldiers in combat and in garrison. I got good report cards and was promoted quickly. I appeared to have a happy marriage, two children, a house – the American Dream. On the other hand, as the years went by and the deployments stacked up, I hid an insidious cancer. To be fair to myself, for years I had no idea what I was dealing with. Then, I denied that I could be so weak to have mental health issues. I realized quickly though that a few drinks quelled those demons. For a while, that worked and helped me. However, there was a slow realization that hiding from myself and coping with booze was unsustainable. Again, to be fair after some warning signs I reached out for help. But it was a far cry from the help I really needed. I don’t blame the Army or anyone. At the time and even to today, we don’t have a good understanding of the dynamics of Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, substance abuse, and traumatic brain injury. What we do know is that when all three of those are present the likelihood of a catastrophic incident like suicide greatly increases.
So, I did what I thought was adequate; what amounted to using a band-aid on an arterial bleed. Then the real suffering and loss began. Everything that I held dear in my life, I lost. In a very real sense, I let those things go due to my own obstinance and denial to take both my mental health and alcoholism seriously. One of the most alienating things was that I lost my sense of self. I walked away from my relationship with me. Not only did I lose relationships, family, and friends, I lost my identity. For a while I attempted to embrace the stereotype of the broken, alcoholic veteran. I became a Nothingman.
But it wasn’t me and furthermore, a small group of people thought I was worth helping even when I didn’t think so. I persisted to live somehow. I began to deal with my mental health and even went through some treatments that were highly effective. By that time, I was a full-blown alcoholic. When I started to drink, I couldn’t stop. But what was important is that my excuses to drink ran out. I felt like I had no choices. I felt like there was no way out. Listless, no purpose, no real identity other than just another alcoholic. I chose to see it to the bitter end. Drink until I died. Again, someone helped me. I was presented with the option to go to rehab (again). I didn’t make a conscious choice. I went and got enough mental clarity to commit to living. Suicide wasn’t a choice anymore and neither was drinking. It wasn’t all sunshine and rainbows. I made mistakes. It wasn’t easy either.
But I continue to be sober today. My PTSD symptoms have decreased significantly, and my biggest concern now is focused on the effects of my multiple brain injuries. I wish I could say that the things I lost have come back into my life. But a lot haven’t. Maybe they will come back eventually. I even chose to walk away from a few relationships in my recovery. I do know that I can look into a mirror again and be okay with what I see even though the shadow of the nothingman is still there. I am evolving into a new identity. One that builds upon my experiences, both positive and negative. It continuous to be a journey, arduous at times but I welcome it as I now have my tribe, my community. We know what hell feels like. We’ve been there. We have survived it. Each day now is a gift, and I try to pay it forward by helping those that are in my flip-flops of suffering.
