I was drinking alcoholically in those days, for obvious reasons.

Because I was a good sailor, my command sent me to Level 3 Alcohol Treatment, an inpatient treatment program.

The counselor, a man, a man who was not a recovering alcoholic, a man who was a Machinist Mate that went to a six week course on alcohol treatment, a man who became angry with me for my inability, (“uncooperativeness"), to discuss, in detail, my traumatic experiences, failed me from the program. I hadn’t had a drink or done anything wrong, other than being unable to talk about it. “If you don’t tell me, you’ll drink again!”

My command had no choice. If you fail level 3 treatment, it’s 'written in stone' that you must be discharged from the navy.

My commanding officer appealed to the Admiral, but was told that he must discharge me.

The Command Master Chief and every commissioned officer in the command, including the CO, wrote letters of reference for me. They gave me an Honorable Discharge. They requisitioned every kind of extra pay and bonuses possible, including severance pay, and moving pay, and each and every one of them apologized to me, personally.

One of the young pilots actually started crying. I patted him on the shoulder and told him that I’d be fine. That’s what we do, right? Comfort them.

Nevertheless, my career was over, with not quite enough time in for early retirement.

It’s ok though. It’s just what happened, in 1993.

I’m 62 now, two years and five months sober and clean, receiving social security and writing a little bit.

Tibetan Buddhism, on youtube, has saved me.

I investigated the MST Facebook group,(Military Sexual Trauma), but I’m still not able to fight for the compensation I deserve, while at the same time reliving it all. Fighting and being immersed in those memories just don’t go together. Not yet.

Thank you for your caring response. Keep your chin up!

--weezi--💖🙏🏼💜🙏🏼🦄🥳🥰