Summer Month: 3 
Night 
Clear Moon: 
Look.
I love my job, but sometimes the Navy is just... draining.
I enlisted for a variety of reasons. I needed to get away from toxic family members, I needed to better myself, and I felt like I owed it to those that served before me to do something with my life. I've always wanted to help people. It's been the one thing I've focused on for as long as I can remember. Enlisting as an active duty Sailor seemed like the right choice.
I don't regret enlisting. That's not the point of this.
From time to time I realize that I'm in an endless cycle. Work, go home, sleep, wake up, and work again. I play video games when I get home, for the most part, as a way to destress and wind down. I don't have family out here to visit, I don't have my dog, and I don't have the comfort of being in a familiar place. Yes, I've been out here for the last 3 years, but I'm not familiar with this state. It doesn't have the same comfort as my home state.
I can take leave to go home at any time. There's no issue there. The issue is that no one ever makes the effort to come out here. No. I have to go to them. It hurts a little. Hell, it hurts more than a little. It fucking sucks to be away from home from so long. It didn't bother me as much until I deployed for 275 days. I knew that enlisting would mean I would be away from home, but I didn't think I'd feel this lonely. I can't even begin to explain how alone I feel.
The end of deployment was when I realized just how much it bothered me that no one will make the effort to visit me out here.
--
Picture it.
You've been deployed for 275 days. You only got to spend 6 of those 275 days on land. The other 269 days? You're stuck on a ship. Surrounded by the same people you see every single day. You sleep in a room with 50+ other people. You don't have personal space. Your bed? You can't sit up in it. The mattress is maybe three inches thick before you lay on it. It flattens considerably under your weight. You work 12 hours each day. Sometimes your work day is longer than that. You are in a dangerous area of operations. You don't know if the enemy will attack your ship. Some days, you hear the intercom turn on to announce that something is close to the ship. A drone. A small ship with armed men. Suddenly the threat of being deployed is very real.
Your ship rescues civilians. You feel proud. You feel like you're doing something good out here... until civilians start to say that you are the bad guy. They tell you to go home when you finally get to be on land. They vandalize the only area that you are permitted to be when you're on land. They put up slideshows via projectors, each slide claiming that you are a monster. You haven't even done anything. You've rescued civlians. You defended your ship from attacks. Yet, they call you a killer. You know that what they say isn't true. You joke about it. It sticks with you though.
You finally get told you'll be going home. The last month you're itching to get off of the ship. You don't ever want to see water again after spending so much time on it. You get excited. You tell your family what day the ship returns. You tell them how they can get on base. You tell them which pier your ship will pull into. Your family gets excited. You can't wait to walk off of the ship to see them. You can't wait to see familiar faces after being gone for 9 months. You can't wait to hear their voices again. You can't wait to hug them. You can't wait to hear them say that they're proud of you. The ship pulls in. You finally get cell service.
They aren't coming.
Suddenly everything you've done feels... worthless. You watch as other Sailors leave the ship. You see the crowd of people cheering and holding signs for their loved ones. It hurts, knowing that they had someone show up for them and you didn't. Your people aren't there and it's not because they couldn't show up. No. They simply chose to not show up. They didn't want to make the trip, and yet... the moment they know you're back, they're all asking you to visit them. They want you to buy a plane ticket to not just one state, but three. You have the money, sure, but you only get two weeks to rest. 14 days can be split up, but that isn't the point.
The point is, they want you to make the effort. As if you didn't just spend 9 months out at sea. The biggest thing you've ever accomplished in life isn't worthy enough for them to welcome you back to safety. Suddenly that achievement feels worthless. Did you actually make a difference? Did you make them proud? If so, they had a very funny way of showing it. Still. You listen. You do what they ask. You split up your 14 days to make them happy. Who cares if you're still adjusting to the time zone? Who cares if you make yourself jet lagged? Do it for them. Power through it. Smile. Make them happy.
--
It seems silly to be bothered by this still. It happened almost a year ago. Yet, the last time I saw my family was in December of 2024. Since then? No one has tried to visit, but they have asked me to buy a ticket to go see them. They don't seem to care that I've mentioned how it makes me upset. I would kill to have them come out here to visit me. God. It would be so nice to finally see them make that effort. I know it won't happen though. How? They don't ever suggest coming out here. I've suggested it. I've explained how we could spend time together and yet... they're only focused on me buying tickets to go see them.
Thus, I'm stuck in this loop.
It's easy to get lost in my head.
Am I helping people?
It doesn't really feel like anymore.
I love my job, but sometimes the Navy is just... draining.
I enlisted for a variety of reasons. I needed to get away from toxic family members, I needed to better myself, and I felt like I owed it to those that served before me to do something with my life. I've always wanted to help people. It's been the one thing I've focused on for as long as I can remember. Enlisting as an active duty Sailor seemed like the right choice.
I don't regret enlisting. That's not the point of this.
From time to time I realize that I'm in an endless cycle. Work, go home, sleep, wake up, and work again. I play video games when I get home, for the most part, as a way to destress and wind down. I don't have family out here to visit, I don't have my dog, and I don't have the comfort of being in a familiar place. Yes, I've been out here for the last 3 years, but I'm not familiar with this state. It doesn't have the same comfort as my home state.
I can take leave to go home at any time. There's no issue there. The issue is that no one ever makes the effort to come out here. No. I have to go to them. It hurts a little. Hell, it hurts more than a little. It fucking sucks to be away from home from so long. It didn't bother me as much until I deployed for 275 days. I knew that enlisting would mean I would be away from home, but I didn't think I'd feel this lonely. I can't even begin to explain how alone I feel.
The end of deployment was when I realized just how much it bothered me that no one will make the effort to visit me out here.
--
Picture it.
You've been deployed for 275 days. You only got to spend 6 of those 275 days on land. The other 269 days? You're stuck on a ship. Surrounded by the same people you see every single day. You sleep in a room with 50+ other people. You don't have personal space. Your bed? You can't sit up in it. The mattress is maybe three inches thick before you lay on it. It flattens considerably under your weight. You work 12 hours each day. Sometimes your work day is longer than that. You are in a dangerous area of operations. You don't know if the enemy will attack your ship. Some days, you hear the intercom turn on to announce that something is close to the ship. A drone. A small ship with armed men. Suddenly the threat of being deployed is very real.
Your ship rescues civilians. You feel proud. You feel like you're doing something good out here... until civilians start to say that you are the bad guy. They tell you to go home when you finally get to be on land. They vandalize the only area that you are permitted to be when you're on land. They put up slideshows via projectors, each slide claiming that you are a monster. You haven't even done anything. You've rescued civlians. You defended your ship from attacks. Yet, they call you a killer. You know that what they say isn't true. You joke about it. It sticks with you though.
You finally get told you'll be going home. The last month you're itching to get off of the ship. You don't ever want to see water again after spending so much time on it. You get excited. You tell your family what day the ship returns. You tell them how they can get on base. You tell them which pier your ship will pull into. Your family gets excited. You can't wait to walk off of the ship to see them. You can't wait to see familiar faces after being gone for 9 months. You can't wait to hear their voices again. You can't wait to hug them. You can't wait to hear them say that they're proud of you. The ship pulls in. You finally get cell service.
They aren't coming.
Suddenly everything you've done feels... worthless. You watch as other Sailors leave the ship. You see the crowd of people cheering and holding signs for their loved ones. It hurts, knowing that they had someone show up for them and you didn't. Your people aren't there and it's not because they couldn't show up. No. They simply chose to not show up. They didn't want to make the trip, and yet... the moment they know you're back, they're all asking you to visit them. They want you to buy a plane ticket to not just one state, but three. You have the money, sure, but you only get two weeks to rest. 14 days can be split up, but that isn't the point.
The point is, they want you to make the effort. As if you didn't just spend 9 months out at sea. The biggest thing you've ever accomplished in life isn't worthy enough for them to welcome you back to safety. Suddenly that achievement feels worthless. Did you actually make a difference? Did you make them proud? If so, they had a very funny way of showing it. Still. You listen. You do what they ask. You split up your 14 days to make them happy. Who cares if you're still adjusting to the time zone? Who cares if you make yourself jet lagged? Do it for them. Power through it. Smile. Make them happy.
--
It seems silly to be bothered by this still. It happened almost a year ago. Yet, the last time I saw my family was in December of 2024. Since then? No one has tried to visit, but they have asked me to buy a ticket to go see them. They don't seem to care that I've mentioned how it makes me upset. I would kill to have them come out here to visit me. God. It would be so nice to finally see them make that effort. I know it won't happen though. How? They don't ever suggest coming out here. I've suggested it. I've explained how we could spend time together and yet... they're only focused on me buying tickets to go see them.
Thus, I'm stuck in this loop.
It's easy to get lost in my head.
Am I helping people?
It doesn't really feel like anymore.
