Hi there, many of you don’t know me, or only know me by the anime/nerdy images I enjoy sharing and reposting. But here’s a quick gist of who I am: I’m a guy from Seattle who works in the military. I keep my identity private as I want to make a clear distinction between my public life and my personal life. Today I want to touch on something personal, something many people go through, or might have experienced in their lives. Hopefully you will get something out of this as much as I did when I wrote this up.
As I sit here this duty weekend, I am compelled to write this blog update. Important events have gone on in my life that warrant an in-depth comprehensive look at what I was, what I wanted to be, and what I want to become; and I look at what steps I am taking to get myself there. In other words, this is the story of a guy whose been in ups and downs his whole life and couldn’t find the answers to a simple question: What is it that makes me, me?
For many people, the common response to mental health problems is to “grow a backbone” or “turn to religion”. I may have suggested the same myself, and I sensed things within myself that were not quite right and I dismissed them as simple personality flaws that could be fixed over time.
So what exactly is “not right?”. Well, imagine you need to talk to your boss and ask for a day off, you would think it would be as simple as “Hey boss, I need some time off in November”, yet for me it was never that simple. I had to plan how the conversation would go before I would speak it. I would go through of all the potential answers and scenarios in my mind before speaking to him, and when I felt confident enough to speak to my boss, I would mumble my words quietly from some weird instinctual fear, if he says “Hey man speak up”, I would get nervous, stutter and stammer my words up, which always made my conversations quite awkward. Unless I knew the person (in which my confidence eventually overrode that fear) I often kept quiet and to myself, and I’d avoid tasks where I’d have to speak out to someone I didn’t know or to someone in a position superior to me.
It’s not just the tasks where I need to speak to people, but tasks that involve commitment and patience. I’d often procrastinate (more than the average person) about completing tasks. Yet I don’t simply “forget” about the task, I put it in the back burner and finish tasks I know how to work with until I actually start on that task. For example:
Boss: “Hey, I need you to fix this equipment by the end of the week, can you do it?”
Me: “Umm, [stammering/mumbling] yeah I think I can do it. It’ll be tough since I have a lot of stuff on my plate.” [a complete lie]
Boss: What was that? You’re mumbling, I could barely hear what you just said.
Me: “Yes I’ll get it done!!”
I’d do everything but that task to get my mind off it, yet when I had spare or free time I would contemplate and constantly think about the task without actually doing it. I’d eventually go so exhausted from overthinking the task that I would either A) Wait until the absolute minute or B) Not do it at all. It’s not a recent experience either, this goes all the way back to high school when I would procrastinate on homework or major assignments. My school reports would usually go something like “Your son is so smart, he just needs to apply himself more, finish his assignments, and open up to the class.”
Last year, before my third deployment, a few weeks after I returned from San Diego for school, I was taken away from my position as technician, and tasked to do menial FSA duties for a week (basically preparing food service for the crew and cleaning the galley/mess decks). It’s usually served as a punishment or as a task for brand-new people, not someone who’s been in the Navy for over 4 years. It was the fourth day of these duties I simply stared at the galley sink when I was supposed to be serving food. Many of the questions rushed into my mind all at once and began to turn into doubt of myself: “Why am I here?” was the predominant question. I asked my LPO (my boss) what put me into that situation of FSA duties, and his response was simply “The upper chain of command felt you don’t have much to contribute.” That hurt me, deep inside I knew I wasn’t the go-getter nor was I a major contributor in my job. But in the Navy where doing bare-minimum will get you in trouble, it was adding so much stress. That was when I had panic attack that prompted me to seek help.
For those who have never experienced a panic attack, here is the best way I can describe it: You start with a little bit of frustration, an negative idea or thought pops into your head, you think about then after a few minutes it becomes a central focus, and that simple negative thought manifests itself into more and more compounded emotions, you get something of an “information overload” with many different voices overlapping each other:
Sad Voice: Why am I here?
Negative Voice: Because you don’t contribute much at work
Internal Narrator: You need to clean these dishes.
Upset Voice: It wasn’t my fault I was in San Diego for 3 months, I didn’t chose it! What about my hard work during MCI Inspections?
Negative Voice: Remember? You couldn’t even figure out how to work your own system that YOU went to school for!
Internal Narrator: You really should be cleaning these dishes…
Negative Voice: Don’t forget you almost got in HUGE trouble because you also couldn’t remember out how to test your system!
Negative Voice: And don’t forget you were so shy in training the ITs that they have couldn’t to do a simple load on x system for the inspections, and you were THIS close to getting sent to Captains Mast, maybe even getting kicked out of the Navy.
Internal Narrator: Dishes?
Upset Voice: This is too much…I need to get back on track to what I was originally thinking about.
Internal Narrator: Back on track…to cleaning the dishes.
Sad Voice: Getting kicked out wouldn’t be bad.
Devious Voice: It would be a “shame” if I somehow fell down the stairs and broke my leg…get some time off from this hellhole. Maybe even go full-shitbag and get kicked out!
Reasonable Voice: Yeah but you have bills to pay! You’ll be viewed as a failure for the rest of your LIFE!
Devious Voice: Yeah but ET3 _____ got kicked out and now has a job that pays THREE TIMES as much
Internal Narrator: You need to do these dishes!!
Sad Voice, Negative Voice, Upset Voice, Devious Voice, Reasonable Voice: FUCK THE DISHES!!!!!!
The internal voices go through these back and forth exchanges within mere minutes. You don’t know what emotion to feel. Your confused, people start looking at you strangely, you begin to panic. Then your body begins to go into a biological self-defense mode, adrenaline starts kicking in, breathing turns into hyperventilation, your mind goes into a weird trance when every single voice goes away all at once, your body goes through a complete shutdown that lasts for 15-20 minutes (or even longer…) and it’s just you staring at that the pile of dishes, and tears streaming down your eyes because you lost control and there is nobody out there at the moment who can help you. And that even if there was someone who is out there to help you, how do you explain to them what you went through:
Me: I had a panic attack while doing the dishes!!!
Other Person: Okay…yeah ermm, how is that stressful?
Me: Because there were voices in my head!!!
Other Person: Yeah, you’re crazy!
I have had panic attacks before this event that (at the time) were detached and seemingly unrelated but were extremely similar in nature. Low self-esteem compounded with doing unwanted tasks and getting called out for doing bare-minimum. I knew what the trigger was, but I didn’t know the source behind it, and again I couldn’t explain it in a way that would make sense to the average Joe. I walked out of the galley, went up my department office, and I talked to my boss about my problems (very difficult, involved a bunch of tears and stuttering). and he suggested I go to an outside councillor to seek help. I did so, and she was sincerely surprised at some of the long, stressful, and arduous work conditions we go through here at home port, but other than nodding her head and saying “Yeah your job really sucks”, it was too little too soon as I was thrown on Deployment #3 with no solutions to my problems.
Around the time we hit Guam, I had another panic attack after getting called out for not participating in fresh water wash down (basically we spray the salt water off the ship with fresh water before we pull into the port to help prevent corrosion). I went to the ships medical staff and they told me they couldn’t do a darned thing to help me and had me sit down and relax for a few minutes. I went back to my office and pulled out the work-list. I had to repair a valve that I had no idea how to fix…and I was on duty that day so I was stuck on the ship with a watch at midnight. I was frustrated, felt self-defeated, trapped on the ship, and couldn’t focus on fixing that valve. Another panic attack was starting to brew as the negative voices crept back up. This time my wrist started trembling and writhing uncontrollably, my legs started buckling under my own weight. “Holy crap this is bad”, I ran back to medical in dazed stupor. The doc asked “What is it now?” and breathless I showed him my squirming hand movements. One nod of his head and he said “I’ll send you now for an emergency session”.
I kept trembling all the way to the hospital, while filling out the medical questionnaire I had to hold my hand in a way to keep it from trembling. I’d look at the “Stress Management” charts posted around the medical lobby and noted I was nearing the danger zone. I talked to another guy from my ship, also going in for a medical evaluation, yet his concerns seemed so petty. He wanted to get out because he hated the Navy, and wants to return back home…all I wanted was to simply stop shaking, to stop the panic attacks, and to be somewhat “normal”.
I was confronted by two mean looking “pre-screeners” who asked me tough questions. “Are you trying to get out of the Navy? What is it that you want us to do?” looking at me with suspicion. “I just need help…I don’t know is there medication or something that can help me?” They referred to me to a councilor who suggested I had anxiety issues and I was prescribed Venlafaxine (Effexor XL) to combat the problems. The first few weeks of the medication were brutal. I had tremors in the middle of the night, dry mouth, dehydration, “brain zaps”, and felt drugged out and exhausted. After two months I felt something, but it wasn’t the “cure” to anxiety that I was expecting. It was depression.
You see, a week after I was prescribed the medication (and a day after my birthday), my grandfather passed away. I asked if there was a way to fly out from Guam to North Carolina to attend his funeral, but I was turned down by my chain of command “No, he has to be an immediate family member”. I was to be there and to remain on the ship, even though supposedly my command didn’t feel I was much of a contribution. I was going on a deployment that wasn’t even a real military deployment, but rather a 4 month “booze cruise”: hitting exotic ports, getting wasted, and doing some random training exercises. Serving my country? I think not…
Two weeks later, I was thrown into an even scarier predicament. The previous year’s test results were out, and I was advanced to a higher rank. What would have made most people elated and excited was dread for me. I now have more responsibilities. I now have to deal with people even higher up in the chain command. I have to train new people. I can no longer hide in the background and stay under the radar.
Here I am, still having problems simply completing tasks or communicating with people being in a leadership role. I was immediately given a list of qualifications I needed to complete within the next few months, and I did everything to avoid them to the point of hiding in my rack, unused compartments, and low-traffic areas. I hated what I was doing to myself, I hated having nobody to talk to, I hated that the people who I worked with every day suddenly became my enemies…that thought I was some weird pill-pusher trying to find his way out of the Navy…using medication as an excuse to get out of duties. My medication prevented me from standing armed watches, that alone felt like a slap to the face and gave immediate disapproval from people above me. People who think the military is all about weapons and force, and that if you’re unable to handle a weapon your unfit to be in service.
I was ostracized, I just wanted to hit the fast-forward button and get the deployment over with. Sometimes I’d look out at the sea and think how empty it was. That was how I felt, and when I tried to use prayer to help, I instead would get called out half an hour later for “Skating off and getting out of duties”.
Every time I got caught I went into “Panic Mode” and I had several panic attacks throughout the rest of the deployment. The worst one I tried documenting in my notebook, hoping maybe I could use it to prove to someone that I’m not right in the brain. My mind began to play strange tricks, I felt like I was in some sort of psychotic schizoid frenzy. I remember doing some strange sketches and equations of a torus and a rhombus, and trying to equate the two in my head. I wrote things that made no sense at all, entries that filled entire pages of jumbled letters. The medication was not working…
Around this time we hit Japan as an unexpected port. I needed time away from the ship. Time to myself. I immediately booked a hotel room with a buddy and we hit Tokyo for the weekend. As a teen, I often dreamed about visiting Japan. I studied some of the language, drew manga-inspired sketches, listened to J-Pop and watched anime profusely. Anime inspired me to draw, and I was drawn to the stories in no way any other medium has. We hit Akihabara several times during that weekend, as well as many of the other famous locales of Tokyo. We stayed in Japan for about a month and I often wandered on my own to the nearby city of Yokosuka and immersed myself in the culture. I felt free in ways I hadn’t felt since I was a teen. Before we left I picked up a few books on learning the language and some anime-inspired figures and memorabilia. Maybe focusing on something other than work would help me feel better.
Even though I was sad when we left, I was ready to move on and go home. Some of our next stops we hit Sydney, Australia which was an amazing city and felt like home (Seattle), but it only made me more homesick. We also hit a little island called Saipan where I met some attractive girls from Thailand. Despite that the medication didn’t really help combat anxiety as I had hoped and left me in a depressive state for those few weeks after we hit Japan, it certainly made me more social and lively. I was less apt to mumble and more confident in who I was.
Yet the question was still out there. Who am I? After we returned from deployment, I spent time exploring my interests. I downloaded games on my gaming PC, only to find them sitting in my library and never being played. I picked up games for my Playstation, only to play them for 30 minutes before putting it back on the shelf. I would crack open my sketchbook and try to figure out something to draw…but nothing would ever come to mind.
Something was missing, something generated that anxiety and that depression. Taking medication for anxiety without finding the cause of it was like treating a deep laceration with a band-aid. While recently things have settled at work and I’m working a less stressful position, that threat of panic attacks still lingered. I still had fleeting moments of anxiety where I would lock myself in a bathroom stall, shut my eyes, and breath out whatever bothered me.
I started looking up the symptoms. My doctor felt that I was fine, but that I was letting stress consume me. Yet the problem I had was the stress was non-existent. It was self-inflicted upon myself. I was the reason, and the reason alone for the stress because of how I let other’s drive their opinions and their judgements of me consume me. I left my own personality flaws become a hindrance.
So I mapped out my personality flaws, and I came up with something similar to this (selfishly stolen from Wikipedia):
• Be easily distracted, miss details, forget things, and frequently switch from one activity to another
• Have difficulty maintaining focus on one task
• Become bored with a task after only a few minutes, unless doing something enjoyable
• Have difficulty focusing attention on organizing and completing a task or learning something new
• Have trouble completing or turning in homework assignments, often losing things (e.g., pencils, toys, assignments) needed to complete tasks or activities
• Not seem to listen when spoken to
• Daydream, become easily confused, and move slowly
• Have difficulty processing information as quickly and accurately as others
• Struggle to follow instructions
Along with those symptoms, there’s also the distinct phenomena of Hyper-Focus. When I get so involved in something I would spend hours immersed in it and pump out amazing art and writings while ignoring the world around me. It often left me conflicted “I am so smart, I can do amazing things…but I simply can’t crack open a book to study or complete my tasks on time”.
What I discovered I had was ADHD - Primarily Inattentive type. All those symptoms I have had since childhood and it’s become so ingrained and routine my life, I just accepted it as-is. Now as I look back I can start filling the blanks. “Oh, that’s why I couldn’t focus in first grade!”, “Haha, no wonder I kept staring at the grass while I was in a softball team”, “Oh that’s why I never could complete my math assignments!”. As an adult especially, I noticed that the more responsibilities I had, the more pronounced it became since I no longer could hide in the background. I purposely kept sabotaging myself since I was so self-consciously afraid of my own “personality flaws” (ADHD Symptoms), that my own fears of mediocrity often became a self-fulfilling reality.
I need something to help fill that missing gap, I want to be somehow normal and confident in myself. I discussed with my doctor my findings and he agreed that I have many of the signs of ADHD which contribute to the anxiety/depression, and I am currently on a trial run with Adderall. I’ve been on 20mg right now, and this duty weekend (which is normally when I would be restless and fidgety), I am remarkably calm and the negative symptoms haven’t kicked in at all. Perhaps it’s because I’m already taking Effexor that my body is accustomed to the weird brain chemical stimulation or something…hell perhaps it’s just some sort of weird placebo effect and I simply think I am fine.
But if there’s one thing for sure, ever since I left Japan and gone through the turbulent emotions of depression, I began growing more confident in myself. I don’t have to hide the fact that I enjoy anime or JRPGs (Japanese Role Playing Games), or be ashamed that I like certain art styles, fashions, and designs. I don’t have to hide the fact I enjoy collecting anime figures or listen to Vocaloid music. I enjoy sharing content via Twitter, Tumblr, and other social media…and seeing other like-minded people actually like the things I post, whether it be a cool image of Hatsune Miku I found on pixiv or animated GIFs from an anime I like.
I enjoy this aspect of my life, an aspect I’ve cherished since childhood and swept under the rug when I enlisted in the Navy. While many simply see cartoons or weird big-eyed anime girls in weird sailor school girl outfits. I see epic stories, fantastic art designs, catchy music, and awesome characters. I see these talented artists on the web share their own visions of their own particular favorite animes and manga, and I draw inspiration from them as an artist myself.
As silly as it seems, otaku and geek culture is a huge part of my life no matter how much external pressure there is to hiding it. I’m slowly phasing out that negative pressure (Facebook is a start) and shrugging off the negative people, but it’s easier said than done.
So in a nutshell:
Years of undiagnosed ADHD caused Anxiety which led to Depression which evolved into an Identity Crisis in figuring out how to shred the mask of expectations from others and to be myself.
Being able to treat the ADHD and the Anxiety at the same time has given me a greater appreciation for the things in life. I can safely say, I am finally happy.












