when i was 19 years old in the marine corp just months after the first gulf war i took part in a human drama that forever changed me. the place was Yuma Arizona the year was 1992 and i was a pretty street smart but very naive Italian street kid looking for some meaning in life. i had never been in trouble before and did average in school. kind of a smart ass but i had a good heart.
i was stationed in Arizona after infantry school in North Carolina. many of the older marines just back from deployment in the gulf were using cocaine and speed, maybe to cope with the war, maybe we were all just really bored in the desert who knows but it became a habit very quickly and my life soon turned out of control.
after the realization that i couldn't stop on my own i decided to ask for help. my commanding officers had watched my performance fall off but weren't sure why. i had a bright future in the marines and did my job very well until the drugs came into the picture. i came to the point where i had enough and wanted help.
i entered my Sgt Majors office a broken young man in need of help. i confessed to him my problem and my desperate plead for treatment. his eye's stayed cold as ice the whole dialogue. this is the military your not getting a hug from anyone but even still i could tell this wasn't going good. his lip curled ever so slightly in disdain. when i finished speaking he paused with an aggravated sigh.
he informed me that he had to think about it. when i asked what he had to think about his reply dropped me to my knees. he informed me he had to decide whether he should give me help or send me to court martial. in other words have me arrested and sentenced for a crime.
words cant express how betrayed and scared i felt. i had just handed my executioner the rope to hang me with. he told me he wanted me to meet with the naval intelligence agency and if i was honest and helpful he would allow me to go to the navy's addiction treatment center in California.
the next day i complied and met with these individuals. after an all day interview in which i answered questions about the drugs things like how many times i used them, did i bring them on base, did i ever sell some to a friend ext..
at the end of our recorded conversation i asked when was i leaving for treatment? i was told "go to your barracks and we will contact you shortly". i didnt feel good about that but i so desperately wanted to be free of these drugs that where ruining my life so i complied. again.
as the days passed i knew something was wrong. i decided to leave the base go to my family and get the help i needed . i was ordered to stay in my room and leaving base was now disobeying a direct order at this point. i packed just what i needed and started off to my car. a fellow marine passed me on the cat walk that knew my situation. he called the MP's on me and i was arrested by force at the gate of the base.
i remember the surrealness of that moment. utter confusion....the spot light blinding me from the multiple police vehicles, the police dogs barking with fangs gleaming anxious to be released on me, commands coming from a loud speaker and tears rolling down my face at the thought of why was this happening to me?
i came to in a holding cell. after a quick cold shower i was given some orange scrubs to wear and signed some paper work informing me i was being confined indefinitely until my trial for narcotics trafficking/distribution and a list of a dozen felony charges. i remember my legs went weak and i had a hard time standing up. i trembled and couldn't speak.
they lead me to a small dark cell with a wood slab as a bed a wool blanket and a sink/toilet. there was no light other than the peep slot on the cell door. this was solitary confinement and every prisoner spent the first 3 days there before they allow you to a regular cell with a cell mate. this was to ensure you wouldn't step out of line in fear of going back to the hole. in the hole you were only allowed to lay flat for 6 hours a day. you weren't allowed to talk, sing or even hum. they gave me a military handbook but it was too dark to read it anyway so you spent most of your day just sitting there. its the most uncomfortable mental torment i have ever experienced.
there was a small air duct in the ceiling i could see a pin dot of daylight through. this was how i counted the days. after 1 week i again knew something wasn't ordinary here. the rules were impossible to follow and they kept adding on undisclosed time to my punishment each time they caught me laying down or talking to myself. i counted 19 days in total but im pretty sure it was longer but after 19 days i was no longer sane. i had lost my mind.
i had made a couple of little figurines out of the empty toilet paper rolls and heads were wadded up paper. they kept me company and it eased the torture a bit. i recall the exact feelings of becoming insane. it wasn't all that bad it was all my mind could do to protect me. the hallucinations were sometimes beautiful, fire-flys all around me like i was back in Vermont at my Grandmothers farm. i could hear my little dolls think and we would communicate telepathically.that would keep me going for just another day. the ugly side was the rocking back and forth and strange behaviors. those were quite sad.
there was somehow an observer within me through this all and that's the only reason i think i made it out ok. i could somehow see this all happening slightly out of body. there was still a part of me tethered to the old me and that never left. i know if that connection broke i would not be coming back....
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i will post part 2 in a little while. please bare with me there will be a point to this story i assure you. re-telling this is something i have only done 2 times in my life and it can be very emotion filled so i need to walk away for a bit.
im very nervous to post this but i was told its important to take this gamble and put myself out there to overcome a personal road block in my life. thank you for allowing me a safe place to do this.
much love
OM'
i was stationed in Arizona after infantry school in North Carolina. many of the older marines just back from deployment in the gulf were using cocaine and speed, maybe to cope with the war, maybe we were all just really bored in the desert who knows but it became a habit very quickly and my life soon turned out of control.
after the realization that i couldn't stop on my own i decided to ask for help. my commanding officers had watched my performance fall off but weren't sure why. i had a bright future in the marines and did my job very well until the drugs came into the picture. i came to the point where i had enough and wanted help.
i entered my Sgt Majors office a broken young man in need of help. i confessed to him my problem and my desperate plead for treatment. his eye's stayed cold as ice the whole dialogue. this is the military your not getting a hug from anyone but even still i could tell this wasn't going good. his lip curled ever so slightly in disdain. when i finished speaking he paused with an aggravated sigh.
he informed me that he had to think about it. when i asked what he had to think about his reply dropped me to my knees. he informed me he had to decide whether he should give me help or send me to court martial. in other words have me arrested and sentenced for a crime.
words cant express how betrayed and scared i felt. i had just handed my executioner the rope to hang me with. he told me he wanted me to meet with the naval intelligence agency and if i was honest and helpful he would allow me to go to the navy's addiction treatment center in California.
the next day i complied and met with these individuals. after an all day interview in which i answered questions about the drugs things like how many times i used them, did i bring them on base, did i ever sell some to a friend ext..
at the end of our recorded conversation i asked when was i leaving for treatment? i was told "go to your barracks and we will contact you shortly". i didnt feel good about that but i so desperately wanted to be free of these drugs that where ruining my life so i complied. again.
as the days passed i knew something was wrong. i decided to leave the base go to my family and get the help i needed . i was ordered to stay in my room and leaving base was now disobeying a direct order at this point. i packed just what i needed and started off to my car. a fellow marine passed me on the cat walk that knew my situation. he called the MP's on me and i was arrested by force at the gate of the base.
i remember the surrealness of that moment. utter confusion....the spot light blinding me from the multiple police vehicles, the police dogs barking with fangs gleaming anxious to be released on me, commands coming from a loud speaker and tears rolling down my face at the thought of why was this happening to me?
i came to in a holding cell. after a quick cold shower i was given some orange scrubs to wear and signed some paper work informing me i was being confined indefinitely until my trial for narcotics trafficking/distribution and a list of a dozen felony charges. i remember my legs went weak and i had a hard time standing up. i trembled and couldn't speak.
they lead me to a small dark cell with a wood slab as a bed a wool blanket and a sink/toilet. there was no light other than the peep slot on the cell door. this was solitary confinement and every prisoner spent the first 3 days there before they allow you to a regular cell with a cell mate. this was to ensure you wouldn't step out of line in fear of going back to the hole. in the hole you were only allowed to lay flat for 6 hours a day. you weren't allowed to talk, sing or even hum. they gave me a military handbook but it was too dark to read it anyway so you spent most of your day just sitting there. its the most uncomfortable mental torment i have ever experienced.
there was a small air duct in the ceiling i could see a pin dot of daylight through. this was how i counted the days. after 1 week i again knew something wasn't ordinary here. the rules were impossible to follow and they kept adding on undisclosed time to my punishment each time they caught me laying down or talking to myself. i counted 19 days in total but im pretty sure it was longer but after 19 days i was no longer sane. i had lost my mind.
i had made a couple of little figurines out of the empty toilet paper rolls and heads were wadded up paper. they kept me company and it eased the torture a bit. i recall the exact feelings of becoming insane. it wasn't all that bad it was all my mind could do to protect me. the hallucinations were sometimes beautiful, fire-flys all around me like i was back in Vermont at my Grandmothers farm. i could hear my little dolls think and we would communicate telepathically.that would keep me going for just another day. the ugly side was the rocking back and forth and strange behaviors. those were quite sad.
there was somehow an observer within me through this all and that's the only reason i think i made it out ok. i could somehow see this all happening slightly out of body. there was still a part of me tethered to the old me and that never left. i know if that connection broke i would not be coming back....
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
i will post part 2 in a little while. please bare with me there will be a point to this story i assure you. re-telling this is something i have only done 2 times in my life and it can be very emotion filled so i need to walk away for a bit.
im very nervous to post this but i was told its important to take this gamble and put myself out there to overcome a personal road block in my life. thank you for allowing me a safe place to do this.
much love
OM'
