EDIT: Formatting/goddamn sticky "C" button

TL/DR: Fuck you. Read it.

"We are still in the desert."--Jarhead

"PTSD is the realization that you will never be this awesome again."--Unknown

Civilian: "Wow! Thank God you made it out of there! I'll bet your happy to never see that place(s) ever again."

Me: "Actually no. I wish I was back there. It was somehow easier."

Civilian: "Wha.......?"

If you have ever been in combat, or to expand, if you have served your given country and exited the Armed Forces you have probably had this conversation before at least once. Complete with the lost look of the person talking to you when you reveal the fact that you would rather be back there, with your brothers (and ultimately arguing over which porn is better...artistically) instead of working some job that you may find boring/beneath you/unfulfilling.

But why.....?

The reason for me was simple. Over there life only had a few rules: If you are going to die, go out in a pile of brass. Watch your brother's backs. Protect your patients, to include giving your life for them if necessary. See? Easy. But more than that it was the almost effortless application of 110% laser focus on your given task/mission/situation. No distractions, no bullshit (well the no bullshit part might be alittle much, but I digress). It was entirely possible to have an entire lifetimes worth of joy/sadness/suffering/despair in one 12-15 month deployment, which always made you feel alittle superior around your civilian counterparts because "Why the fuck are you bitching? You have never faced hardship in your spoiled little life." But that superiority is a mistake. They are dealing with the same shit you are going to have to deal with when you get out, and it's going to be twice as hard for you. Because even though someone isn't shooting at you anymore, realizing that taking time off work to visit your family could mean a significant financial hardship because you might not get paid leave anymore. Sounds mediocre? Not if you've been used to paid leave for over 10 years, and known nothing else. You go from spending 80% of your time around guys that you would gladly take a bullet for, to listening to whiny overprivileged pussies complain endlessly about nonsensical bullshit over and over again. So you lash out decide to motivate. You throw on your Sergeant hat again and tell them to stop being a pussy and "Suck it the fuck up, buttercup! You have no real problems!" And why shouldn't you? It's always worked before, right? But not now. Now your have a meeting with HR about your threatening workplace attitude, and there is talk of suspension if this happens again.

But what the actual fuck?!

You've done nothing but get commended for your "can do" attitude, your work output, your taking on more than your share of the tasks and completing them better and faster than the other guy. There is talk of a management position opening up to you and you've only been there 2 months. You are fucking crushing it! And now this spineless pussy is going to fuck with your money because he can't deal with problems like a man, and tells on you like a 4 year old because you hurt his feelz?! Oh hell fucking no!! Your blood runs cold and you seethe with rage...like it used to. You are going to buttfuck this kid's soul! You are going to set him on fire, and put him out with a shovel. You are going to go Old Testament on this Oxygen thief. You are...You are...You are...going to go to fucking jail if you don't check your shit, and fast.

But then what? You drive home in a fit of rage. You take it out on the wife, you don't want to play with your kids, you hit the bottle. And why not? It worked before. But you're not feeling any better. You go back to work, careful to avoid this fuck so you can in turn avoid those frigid barren wombs over at HR. But it doesn't work, you're not happy anymore. Something broke and this isn't the easy money scenario that it started off being. You're feeling lost, unfulfilled. At home, you ignore your wife, and don't play with the kids. You hit the bottle and call up your old buddies that got out of the military before you. They are in the same boat as you. This is too depressing so you talk about the good 'ole days when you were jolly green giants walkin' the earth...with guns. You laugh and feel better. But you immediately feel terrible as soon as you hang up. Rinse repeat.

All the while you are getting fat. But why? You never had this issue before. More depression. Why was it so easy before? What am I doing wrong?

Are you seeing the downward spiral???

The problem isn't society, it isn't crybaby pussies, the problem isn't even the politically correct world you found yourself in complemented with professional victims ready to pounce and report you to the frigid barren wombs at HR (honestly that is a big part of it but that is another rant). The problem, my friend is YOU.

The only problem here is you. Without even knowing it you became that same "whoa-is-me" bitch boy that you despise so much. You cast your problems and inadequacies around making it anyone else's fault but the man in the mirror. You let your ego run loose, and the sad part is that you didn't know any better. You were using the same tools that made you a success in the Military. When they didn't work you had no idea what to do next.

This was more or less my issue until about a month ago. I was lost. All the progress I made with MRP was diminishing. I was losing touch, feeling more and more angry. I was not the cocky "don't worry babe, daddy's got it" guy I was before. I turned into something else and I didn't like it. Read about my return here. Granted there was some positive shit in there but reading it again I can definitely see the validation seeking that I was feeling while I was writing it. I wrote that about 1 week after I had my own come to Jesus moment. While talking to my old buddy about the good old days he breaks it to me that if I hadn't called that night he would have probably killed himself. That give me the hard snap back into reality that I needed. I realized that I was also feeling very depressed. That night I was too freaked out to sleep so I picked up the laptop and started rereading the basics. Went back to MMSLP, RM, found /u/TheFamilyAlpha and devoured his blog (really solid stuff, man).

I'm irritated with myself for slipping so much in such a short period of time. But it reminds me that it's always a work in progress. MRP is a perishable set of skills, if you don't practice it then you can lose it. You can't just buy a set of weights, buy some new suits and go to Dread level 8, the same way you can't stop practicing MRP get sloppy and expect to jump back in exactly where you left off. From the depths I'm improving leaps and bounds. I've enrolled in Paramedic School, and I'm looking for better paying and more fulfilling jobs. I'm finding the satisfaction I felt in the military. Not quite all the way, but I'm working on it. I'm taking steps to train my brain to acquire that 110% laser focus to my tasks, even if the bullets aren't flying anymore.

I don't post on here as much as I did in the past because I feel that until I get back to where I was, my time would be better spent rereading and lurking. I'm got some thoughts on MRP theory that I want to post, but I'll get to that at a later time. It's you guys in general, and the manosphere as a whole that has reminded me again that it's never too late to turn it around. Even if you are backpedaling a slight bit.

I'll be around if you need me.

Stay manly, gents.