I wasn’t a big drinker when I joined the military many years ago. I was a binge drinker. Train hard, party harder. That’s been military culture since before Roman soldiers marched on Gaul. If you couldn’t hang, were you even a man? I was young, strong, impressionable, and a bit lost. I went on to spend 30 years of my life repeating that cycle. A clean week followed by a dirty weekend. Once, I got into the wrong car and drove away. Once, I slept in a train station in Berlin because I missed the last train out. I don’t remember anyone’s names, just the faces that joined me in my self-destruction.
Every training mission and every deployment would turn into a party. I had one of the best New Year’s of my life in Croatia, sneaking out of camp to go to a Croatian party with a buddy. We were escorted by a group of Croatian fighters who had just been fighting the Serbians. They were on our side, but, man, it was careless.! I drank my way through Bosnia, Croatia, Iraq, the Philippines, Cambodia, and all over Europe. I felt forever young. I was oblivious to the pain and destruction my party was causing along the way. I’m not sure how I survived so long.
This life would somehow work for nineteen years.
I got an evaluation once that said I was great in the field but a pain when we were in garrison; it’s what we call duty at our home base. The cracks were starting to show. I came to work drunk and high, looking rough and tired. At the end of my journey, there was no war to fight, most of my friends were gone, and I was facing a court martial for insubordination, disobeying a direct order, and just being an arrogant asshole. It was in the worst space I’ve ever been in. This was the end of the trip. I, like many of my friends, never considered surviving this adventure. I had no plan. This was maybe the end for me.
After all my trips into the fray, this was a feeling I’d never felt… It got really dark, and I felt very alone. Only my brothers from days past would be able to save my life, if just for the moment. I’d talk to them sometimes as if they were still there. They weren’t; they’d been dead for a while now.
It was strongly suggested that I walk away from the only life I’d known as an adult. The door was opened for me, and the ceremonious ‘Bye Felicia’ was given. The military will teach you to fight, but they’re not in the business of teaching you how to recover. It’s up to you to figure it out.
Ok, here is where I got it together and backed up. I met a beautiful girl who became a beautiful bride. There was a whole new world to explore. This is where the movie changes.
Vodka became my new battle buddy.
Phillip Vitela
NOPE! Just when you thought I couldn’t get much lower, I learned to crawl. Vodka became my new battle buddy. In the military, your “battle” is your partner—the one you count on whenever you need help. In my mind, Vodka would be the only thing to numb this mental pain.
When I left the military, I was lost in a world I hadn’t been part of in two decades. I took forever to find a job. Nothing here on the civilian side of the fence matches the skill set I was trained in (not a surprise). I worked retail, selling kayaks and security at a hospital in a pretty rough part of the city. Then, I entered a corporate job as head of their investigative department. That lasted two months. None of these things would keep me even a little satisfied. How was I going to live as a regular Joe? I finally ended up working for the government as a civilian. I worked with veterans and active service members struggling to transition to civilian life. This job opened so many new doors and opportunities. But even with the validation of this new and amazing job where I could help others, I still couldn’t seem to help myself. I kept a mask on during the day until I left the office and lost myself again.
It was a rough season, drifting aimlessly. I reached the point that so many other soldiers find themselves…staring at the 22 about to join the roster. At this point, 22 veterans were killing themselves every day. This doesn’t take into account alcohol and drug-related deaths. This is where I really jump off the cliff. Let’s not even cover my marriage. It became a pattern with which many sober alcoholics are familiar. Drinking one night a week turns to three nights a week, that turns to, you get the picture.
I spent more time hiding alone in a corner by myself with a pack of Camels and a pint glass of my favorite security blanket than I did anywhere else. I felt gross and embarrassed, but not enough to stop the destruction. It would be four years of trying to bury myself using alcohol before I would hit that brick wall, and I mean, I literally hit a wall.
I literally hit a wall.
I ran my truck into a large piece of granite. It was the worst time of my life. I’d made many bad decisions, going right when I should go left. Missing every off-ramp that was presented to me. It all finally brought me to my knees. Looking back, there were no bridges to turn back to; I had blown all those up. Forward was the only way to move. How did I get here? How did this guy who had faced everything thrown at him end up in a cell? I was finally crushed. I’d arrived at a crossroads maybe days before I would probably lose it all. My family, my life, my soul.
“I love you, brother, but you’ve been dancing with that devil for a long time.”
Friend
I called an old friend and told him what happened. I told him that I had a problem with alcohol. “No shit!” he responded, “I love you, brother, but you’ve been dancing with that devil for a long time.”
How did it happen that I thought it was fine for years? What was I doing to myself? Now, I had to wake up from this nightmare and stop destroying my life and the lives of those I loved. I had no other options that led me out of this. It’s so late, but also so lucky to be alive.
Actions mean more than empty words and promises!!
I couldn’t just tell my family; I had to show them that I meant it. 13 February 2022 was the day I was reborn. I found that motivation and need for adventure I hadn’t had in a long time. I wanted to live. I wanted to be a better partner to my wife, a better father, and an example to my kids, who, at this point, lost the hero they used to have to the shell of a man I was. I was a man living with the ghosts of brothers lost. Trying to drown the memories with vodka. I had to let that go, and I had to wake up from this bad dream that never seemed to stop.
I realized that I had made a terrible error.
The Army trained me in many things. It prepared me to arrive at battle by jumping from a plane at 1200 feet. To have courage when faced with fear. But they didn’t train or prepare me to live on the outside. No one told me that it would be so hard and that I would feel so dark and empty. It just wasn’t what they did. There was still a mission to do, and I was disposable, which had been replaced the minute I walked off base for the last time.
Then, at about two years, my brain woke up!
I needed to help my military family succeed. I had a purpose. This led me to take a leap and start a sober peer group for veterans and current soldiers. I had to walk point and show that there was a path to success. Meaning I had to walk out in front to clear the path forward. It was a slow start to find soldiers who would come forward. But it’s picking up steam.
We lead from the front.
I’m very open with my sobriety. We lead from the front, meaning we get dirty and show what we can accomplish if we do the work. Being a leader and an example that’s positive is how I was taught. This was no different. I noticed something happening. People hear rumors about the sober vet in the office downstairs. Senior leaders have started to come to me, asking me for advice and guidance on how to help their soldiers best.
Things are changing; this culture of drinking and turning soldiers away when things go too far is changing. I have a purpose once more that could help out the future of our military, helping service members navigate these challenges that I experienced. People who will be the next wave of leaders who will know how to prepare their teams for the inevitable trip outside. I’m running with this till, as my wife and I say, “It’ll work, or we will try, till we burn this fucker down!” The world is changing, and so is the culture. You see, the Army has always led from the front. Now, it can be the largest corporation in America to really tackle the alcohol and drug issue within its ranks. I want to be part of that change; I’ll lead from the front.
A Disco Ball is Hundreds of Pieces of Broken Glass, Put Together to Make a Magical Ball of Light. You are NOT Broken, Friend. You are a DISCO BALL!
Resources Are Available
If you or someone you know is experiencing difficulties surrounding alcoholism, addiction, or mental illness, please reach out and ask for help. People everywhere can and want to help; you just have to know where to look. And continue to look until you find what works for you. Click here for a list of regional and national resources.
1 Comment
Thank you for sharing.