Hi, Eva, and welcome to the discussion :). LJ-land would've been a lot more boring if we all stuck talking just to people we know from off-net, no?
First off - from victim to counselor. *bows*
Now. Story goes like this. melody_kitty and I were friends in high school - she was two school years below me, one year younger. We lost contact when I graduated. Two years later, she arrived to the same unit I served at. While that was incidental, her being assigned to the same war station as I was anything but: she was specifically assigned to this post 'cause she's my friend. I'm the one who trained her for this job, i'm the one who pronounced her up and able. Fast forward a few years. Ten days after returning from a six-months stay at the US, war started. Fourteen days after Mel's return, I called her from the army, saying: "Come over."
So there we were, sitting through roughly thirty days of shifts together. Yet, sometimes, it seems we sat in two different war rooms, experienced two different wars.
Me, my first year of service was one trauma after another. I was kicked out of the first section I served at 'cause my CO there thought I couldn't handle the stress. Years later, i'm responsible for eight other people and then for more on the level of making sure nobody loses too much weight; i'm the senior at a station pretty much holding the rest of the complex afloat. And i'm the kind of person who takes everything to heart: bad mix, that. But I was there to get the job done, and Mel was there because I asked her to. We both shuddered at the destruction, we both went to sleep with a heavy heart.
We both needed much healing afterwords - I gave my collueges quite a hard time, was too edgy, for a few months. Going back for the first drill after the war sure sent my pulse up - but also dissipated most of the remaining trauma. I was reminded of how different are drills from reality - but I haven't forgotten how well the drills have prepared me. I haven't forgotten that the main reason my station was prepared was because of all the care and time I put into it as a reserve person.
And Mel? You have her post above. We sat through two different wars, she and I.
And it's hard for me: it's hard to accept that she - who seemed to hold together so much better than I through the war - is still struggling with things I had put behind. It's hard to accept that it's so, even that I know we're all different, because fuck that, we sat there together.
And maybe, possibly, I don't want to aknowledge how bad this is... because if I hadn't asked to summon her, she wouldn't have been summoned. (The officer in charge of the reserve activation doesn't like her.) If we hadn't been friends - she only got into this job because of me - if it hadn't been my voice on the phone, she probably wouldn't have come. Legally, she didn't have to. And even if I can sleep in peace with the destrution i've seen in South Lebanon... this'll keep me awake at night, if I think about it then.
I don't mind the 'intrusion' :)
First off - from victim to counselor. *bows*
Now. Story goes like this.
Fast forward a few years. Ten days after returning from a six-months stay at the US, war started. Fourteen days after Mel's return, I called her from the army, saying: "Come over."
So there we were, sitting through roughly thirty days of shifts together. Yet, sometimes, it seems we sat in two different war rooms, experienced two different wars.
Me, my first year of service was one trauma after another. I was kicked out of the first section I served at 'cause my CO there thought I couldn't handle the stress. Years later, i'm responsible for eight other people and then for more on the level of making sure nobody loses too much weight; i'm the senior at a station pretty much holding the rest of the complex afloat. And i'm the kind of person who takes everything to heart: bad mix, that.
But I was there to get the job done, and Mel was there because I asked her to. We both shuddered at the destruction, we both went to sleep with a heavy heart.
We both needed much healing afterwords - I gave my collueges quite a hard time, was too edgy, for a few months. Going back for the first drill after the war sure sent my pulse up - but also dissipated most of the remaining trauma. I was reminded of how different are drills from reality - but I haven't forgotten how well the drills have prepared me. I haven't forgotten that the main reason my station was prepared was because of all the care and time I put into it as a reserve person.
And Mel? You have her post above. We sat through two different wars, she and I.
And it's hard for me: it's hard to accept that she - who seemed to hold together so much better than I through the war - is still struggling with things I had put behind. It's hard to accept that it's so, even that I know we're all different, because fuck that, we sat there together.
And maybe, possibly, I don't want to aknowledge how bad this is... because if I hadn't asked to summon her, she wouldn't have been summoned. (The officer in charge of the reserve activation doesn't like her.) If we hadn't been friends - she only got into this job because of me - if it hadn't been my voice on the phone, she probably wouldn't have come. Legally, she didn't have to. And even if I can sleep in peace with the destrution i've seen in South Lebanon... this'll keep me awake at night, if I think about it then.