The last full week was destined to be arduous, but I didn't expect it to be emotional as well. A co-worker committed suicide last week, and a large portion of the command is traveling up to Greenville for the funeral tomorrow. The entire affair will last 12 hours (trip included). My department handles local service member mortality cases, but I was out of the office the week it happened so I was uninvolved with more trying tasks like coordinating with local authorities and identifying the remains.

Navy suicides are so goddamned weird. We lost a shipmate a couple of years back who killed himself, on Father's Day, because he was having a hard time adjusting to an intense training program. Not even a year ago, a friend, a man who many looked to for support, took his own life on duty in a moment of intense frustration. This latest suicide is just as weird. He was just a kid, not even old enough to drink, but he was apparently going through a divorce and having a difficult time coping with the realities of it. I mean, what the fuck?

It seems like it's always something with the sailors: doing stupid things while extremely intoxicated, committing suicide, or killing each other while extremely intoxicated. Come on, sailors.

And I'm writing all of this while listening to Jawbreaker, and I'm wondering if maybe I caught something? (Oh God, I hope not.) This is simply me writing about a sensitive subject and my feelings, which run the gamut from complacent to perplexed.

People are fucking weird.





Also,



Is this a trick question?