I left my last military duty station in Fairbanks, Alaska in 1998.  It was not what I had wanted but just what wound up happening.  I went back to Colorado and tried to get back to living, but I was going through the motions, and along the way, pieces of who I was just kept disappearing. 

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The years went by, with some being better than others.  I felt angry, depressed, and disconnected during this time of my life, and pretty empty overall.  I spent a lot of those years struggling internally and trying to figure out what was wrong with me.  I often self-medicated or found a spot where no one could bother me.  I wasn't even sure I knew who I was most days.  I was sure about a few things though.  I was angry, I was depressed, and I really didn’t care about much, I used that to just keep putting one foot in front of the other. 

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Last year, one of my closest fellow servicemembers, and founding Foxhole Alliance member, George, reached out.  He had managed to keep in touch with me somehow over the years and told me that he and some of the guys from Alaska had gotten together a few times to play golf over a long weekend.  They'd turned it into a yearly reunion where everyone got together for some golfing, eating, grilling, and catching up. 

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At first, I didn't think much about it.  But for some reason, the idea kept popping up in the back of my mind.  Then Chris reached out, and we talked more about the upcoming golf reunion weekend.  I liked the idea, but I was still riding the fence.  It had been a long time, and over the past few years, my life had, for lack of a better way to describe it, dropped off a cliff. 

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I was very hesitant about going.  I don't do well in groups, at events, or out in "functional society", and the last few years had only made all of that even worse. 

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With a lot of encouragement from my wife, and after talking online with several of the guys who kept telling me to "get down to Texas and hang out," I finally bought my ticket and jumped on a plane.

 

I really didn't know what to expect. It had been 28 years since I'd been around most of these guys, and I wasn't sure how things would go. 

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From the second Chris and Julio pulled up to pick me up at the airport, I felt like I was with family again. 

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As more of the guys showed up, more and more of those missing pieces started falling back into place. 

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I laughed, talked, and enjoyed myself in ways I hadn't in years.  I could just be myself.  I didn't have to pretend to be somebody else or explain every little thing about why I am the way I am.  I felt heard, understood, and accepted—the good, the bad, and everything in between. 

For those few days, it felt like the last 28 years had disappeared.  I wasn't some outsider trying to fit into a group.  I was simply one of the guys again. 

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When I say this trip saved my life, I don't necessarily mean in a physical way, but yes that too.  It was something else, something I still struggle to put into words. 

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It didn't erase my trauma, heal my wounds, or give me back the time or things I'd lost.  None of that disappeared. 

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But when I went down to Texas, it was like another door opened up, and for once, it didn't lead to another loss. 

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I came back home with something I hadn't felt in a very long time—a little calm in the chaos.  Something said between all of us without being said.  An understanding maybe, an anchor for all of us to tie off to.  Not to keep the storm away, but to keep up from being pulled further into it. 

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It was the lifeline I needed at a time I probably needed it most.  I don't know if I will ever find the right words to explain just how much that means to me and how appreciative I am for the Veterans at Foxhole Alliance. 

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It's been almost six months since the reunion weekend.  We've all gone back to our lives, our families, and whatever everyday chaos comes with them. 

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But something is different.  For me, anyway. 

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I don't feel so isolated anymore.  Not quite so alone.  Not quite so hopeless.  Not so afraid of the storm. 

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Since the reunion last April, I found myself in a group text chain with my fellow service members.  We don't talk every day, and we don't need to.  There's always some funny reel, some stupid joke, or somebody giving somebody else some good-natured verbal jab in our group chat.  Everyone checks in here and there, and somehow, just knowing that connection is still there makes a positive difference. 

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I can honestly say I've talked more with these guys in the last six months than I have with most other people in the last ten years. 

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I don't have any great philosophical words of wisdom or catchy quotes to wrap all of this up. I just know what I know. 

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I know that the members of Foxhole Alliance are my family, and I'm honored to be a part of this great organization.