My Background

Most of these things get put in a little box in my brain. Once and a while it opens (sometimes not by me).

In the past my sis said I probably have depression. Now I think I might be Bipolar. I can't see a doc or get meds because I will be booted out of the Army, which I love, (and am pretty darn successful too)

Make a prognosis and Vote! It would really help me out. Here is what I have been up to for the past 33 years:

Preteen/Teen
Attempted suicide at age 8: How the fuck does this happen? I remember the moments like yesterday (I'm 34). I remember taking the light fuzzy blue bathrobe belt and tying a noose in the closet on the hanger rod. To this day I don't know why I did it.. just felt like the right thing to do at the time.

Ran away from home at 14.. for a day. No idea why. Just left for school and rode my bike to a neighboring village school (12 miles away). Didn't want to be recognized riding my bike so naturally I had to steal someone elses at the neighboring school's bike rack. Rode to my best friends house (in the country another 5 miles) and figured I'd wait till he came home. Forgot his mom didn't work and was there and had to split.. thru a swamp, had to ditch the bike since you can't ride a bike through a swamp. Their neighbor sees a kid running through his swamp at 2pm on a tuesday and sends his dogs. Now a wanted criminal I haul ass thru the swamp and then a river to ditch the dog's scent. Find some railroad tracks and start walking down them. I took a rest till nightfall - had to get some wheels. Walking down a country road I spotted a garage door open and grabbed a nice shiny new mountain bike. By this time it was about 10pm and then I just kinda snapped out of it, and started to leisurly ride home, confident I broke any trail with my sneaky tactics. A deputy sheriff finds me and after some short verbal judo I cave in and ask for a ride home. I go home to my loving fam - the episode was never uttered since.


Then till 18 I was unstoppabe. In 8th grade I dated a 16 year old girl who drove me... to middle school and taught me well.. lots of things. mvP on the hockey team, easily getting A's in trig, calculus, and AP biology, student govt VP, band (composed a drum cadence that the school still uses to this day) , awarded a Army College full ride Scholorship (ROTC), aced the ACT and got in to the only college I applied at (Big 10 Univ), harems of adoring (and some permiscuos) chicks..I never really studied - just went to class and finished homework in 15 minutes at lunch. Joined the Army at 17 in the reserves.

Got to college, went good for a year did decent the first year then before I knew it I just couldn't get out of bed anymore... which wasnt surprising since I would stay awake till 3am. By then I was required to do physical fitness for Army ROTC, and sometimes I would stay up all night because I knew if I slept I wouldn't wake up in time for 0630 training 5 days a week. Only to go to sleep and wake up at 4pm to sustain my growing unhealthy personal life (at one point I had sex with 3 different girls in one day), and maintaining multiple relationships. I went to the student clinic once and asked the doc to see if I had some veneral disease, as I was always tired all the time. He said I was fine (and I was in more ways than one), and brought up depression.
That kinda scared me, since my Dad's dad went nuts and abandoned his family, leaving him to grow up in an orphanage. Also, my sister was just admitted at that time to a inpatient nut house, (she still takes medication but isn't really - well its still a long story). I guess that was the first time I figured I had manic depression, or something crazy in the head. Unfortunately when you are an aspiring army officer in the middle of obtaining your secret security clearance ANY mention of mental illness, hospital visits, or medication and they_will_kick_your_ass_out. So treatment is out of the question.

The roaring 20's
I bottomed out my 4th (out of 5th) year when I was told I would not be able to be in the acive army since my grades were too low (but I was welcome in the National Guard). That year the Army double cut the number of officers brought in (which they are still short as of today because of that gross error in judgement). That was a pretty big blow to me. I mean you don't bust ass for 4 years for a part time job. So I went home, looked in my wall-length mirror and punched it, my fist going through the mirror/glass, and wall. I sat there in a weird kind of grim satisfaction as I sat there picking shards of glass and wood from my hand, which was twice the size of the other due to massive internal bleeding and cuts. Never wnet to the doctor. Just went to the grocery store and bought a big pathc-type band-ai and duct-taped it. (I had bit of glass popping out of my skin until the last one came out 6 years later). It was somewhat theraputic however, as after that I managed to go to more class and barely finish college.
So back on the upswing I gradutated college (engineering), did some mandatory army officer training with honors and was selected to go to an elite-type training course a few months after. I was all set and in the best shape of my life (had 10% body fat too). I had to go home, though for a couple months in between. it was January, dark and gloomy at home. I knew I needed to do training while at home but I just couldn't, and felt there was really no purpose to it. I slipped back into major depression, and couldn't pass all the physical events at the elite army school a couple months later and was sent packing.
Then I just zoned for about 6 months by my folks. I was in the National guard part time but still needed a full-time job. My mom said I should get a hobby to get out of the house, so what better hobby is there for a manic depressant than pistol shooting? If there was a time I contimplated serious suicide it was then. Every night I would load a magazine, open the action of the pistol, and lay it on a chair next to my bed. When I would wake up sometime in the afternoon, I would just lay there, gazing at the pistol, fantasizing loading it and which part of the body to aim it at for the least amount of mess. Then I would wonder what would happen next. My mom would freak out. My wonderful dad would most likely clean it up. I could see him scrubbing the walls and changing the carpet. They deserved better than that I figured. They would blame themselves for my failures. I couldn't do that to them.
Well, later that august I got a decent management job with good pay and a new steady 17 year old girlfriend (at 24) who I didn't cheat on much. Bought my first new car, snazzy threads and a nice a.p.t. For some reason I needed more money, though, and started going down the most darkest paths in my life.

A year after the next winter I figured a grand fail-proof scheme that I could easily make extra cash by spying on people's ATM transactions and get there PIN, then track them and grab their purse/wallet and cash in. Naturally I figured I could pull this off no problem. I wouldn't be ruining all the things I worked (and believed) in. I stake out ATMs at my old college but after some stares figure that's too obvious. I find a 3rd floor library window with perfect vantage to an ATM inside another building. With my small high-power binoculars I make it look like I am studying and eyeball a mark, and get his PIN. He walks towards the engineering building which I am familiar in and set off for pursuit, going over the multitude of attack combinations with the least amount of noise. He went in a door, then I slipped in (it's night time). for some reason he doubles back and I pratically bump right into him and stare right in his eyes. At that point I knew I could never commit any type of crime. He smiles, I smile and step out of the way and say "pardon me." I drove home (a 1.5 hour one way trip on a weeknight with wor in the morning mind you) crying the whole way home at this weird thing that had consumed me. It snapped me out of it though, thank God.

Then my sister told me of this "depression research" her shrink was conducting and signed me up for it. I figured it was OK, since it was research and not a "admission or treatment of mental disorders from a medical facility," so if it ever came up in the Army I could officially deny any claim to a mental disorder or treatment thereof. So they say yeah you have depression and give me some meds. In all honesty they didn't do jack crap for me except make me yawn alot and blink my eyes more than normal. I was feeling more normal anyway and just stopped going.
Back on the upswing, I got cocky after a year and a half and switched cities, girlfriends and jobs for more pay, and was making more bank than both my folks combined at 27, which I was proud of, and even lent money to my two sisters. For a hobby I got a RC airplane. Also, I was convinced on a new type of rotary engine that didnt use gas and built a (somewhat) functional prototype with "bristle block" toys, refrigerator magnets and a glue gun. You know I just read the former sentance and had to laugh, but I was dead serious on making that thing work.
Everything was fine even through the winter until summer when I just couldn't get to work anymore before noon. I was one of the first to get downsized, (to their credit they were very patient with me, plus I was doing more work on half-days than some people's whole days). I got a decent severance and was unemployed and alone, and fell back down. It was the late summer of 2001. I had a stalker internet chick that would always just show up (which I let in sometimes when i was in the mood), otherwise my days would consist of waking up at 3pm, play computer games and eat a frozen pizza. I didn't call anyone, didn't bathe, didn't clean - nothing. getting food and simply writing checks for bills became a burden. Smoking since age 16 started to catch up.

I constructed a neat high-voltage physics experiment on my kitchen table and planned on researching asymetrical capacitors. Started getting eviction notices. My kitchen was a biohazard area since I hadn't taken out the trash in 3 months. I left with pans and crap piled almost to the ceiling, simply surrendered my sec. deposit.
Got evicted from my swank a.p.t. and stayed by my (loving) folks with 5 dollars to my name. It was December of 2001. What little job prospects I had evaporated in post-Sept. 11. I finally broke down and applied for unemployment (which was tough for me at the time too proud I guess) in December so I could at least buy my immediate family something for Christmas, and luckily was extended due to Sept. 11. past July.
After I woke up about 8 months later I volunteered for a deployment for Operation Enduring Freedom. (One year Captain pay would get me back on my feet). One small thing, we planned to invade from Turkey which didn't happen so I spent the year training units in Ft. Bragg in the States.

Which wasn't a bad gig really (dissapointed I wasn't on the invasion). Not that I think invading a soverign nation is a good thing, but you have to understand combat experience is a good thing to have when you are an Infantry Officer. Anyway, it was nice being on active duty, and I got to meet a good college buddy who was also a commander at a large training exercise. He was bummed also he hadn't gone yet but we knew it was just a matter of time.
One thing I liked about doing Army stuff is that I rarely had trouble getting up typically at 0600 every day. Don't know why just was always that way, and had a pretty good year. I reverted back to my unhealthy personal ways, though, as my girlfriend (the 17 year old now 21) broke up with me upon my Army deployment... That hurt. And if you know Ft. Bragg, NC you know that (unbeknownst to me at the time - honest) 99% of the women at clubs, or on internet dating sites are married looking to score. Which at first I would just totally dump them once I found out.. but later in the year I just said f-it and boned anything halfways decent or better.
Went back home with a small nest egg, but still unemployed full-time. I did a few National Guard special projects which was nice but just short term. Then I met my future wife, sweety. Honestly I'd be dead now if it wasn't for her. I screwed up a couple times, but she always helped (and forgave.... I brought home something a little "extra" from Ft. Bragg that involved some anti-biotics and a q-tip from a doctor).

Then I get this crazy idea that I can be a successful real este agent with no book of business. (Which I had done some real estate appraisal and development so it wasnt too far fetched). My girlfriend didn't know I was crazy yet and totally supported me. It was very stressful (hi start up expenses) but I did ok, and we bought a condo together and that helped (me) alot. I did good off the bat, had a slump (due in a large part by this completely off-the wall confusing sales presentation I was doing - which my grilfriend gently corrected me.. she is and always will be better in sales than me). I was even asked to coach my nephew's rec footbal team which was something I always never had time before and had a blast (we came in first too!).

The 30's
And, although I was doing OK, I was still working twice as hard for half the money I was used to - but the following year my unit was alerted and deployed to Iraq this time. I figured if my girlfriend was still there when I came back I'd marry her and I did. Once nice thing too is as usual, for the 18 months I was gone, I didn't have any major "deals" in Iraq. This is probably due to being busy all the time. I had a combat mission, so I was doing that Army thing I've always dreamed about so I was livng the dream (and getting good tax-free pay too). Of course there were bad times and blah times. Actually I think (opinion) my ability I developed over the years from whatever mental thing I have to completely compartmentalize things that bother me helped me not go nuts or anything (I witnessed some but not lots of disturbing things). Knowing that busy soldiers are happy soldiers and training helps alot too. It's been about a year since I've been back and the second I breathed the U.S.A. the middle east is just like some weird dreamworld. Now it's kinda like jumping out of an airplane - was interesting the first time but now all you can think about is what could go wrong.
So yeah upswing time - buy a farmhouse on some acreage in your hometown, et married, do a complete renovation, the works. Tried also to start another real-estate type business but that fizzled somewhat.
Then, it was back to depression, but then offers from the National Guard to work in my state for a very nice sum of money.
Which brings us to today. I am basicaly working on a yearly contract (long commute but it more than pays) while still trying to do a home renovation. My swings seem to happen every three weeks which is kinda disturbing... I've researched starting another business (thanks to exhaustive research, though, the financials just wouldn't pan out)..... To computer game designer (not a whole lot of opportunity in my state but not unheard of since while at Ft. Bragg I "modded" a computer game and given design credits for a AAA computer military sim from a game developer), and of course going to graduate school in physics to unlock the mysteries of gravity...