PTSD Changed My Life…Part 3
Have you ever tried to define normal? I’ve often wondered what it is and how do you measure it. We learn in our studies that the society that we live in some ways dictate what our normal is. Should we not be free to choose what our baseline is? Or should we adjust our baseline to what is perceived to be a normalized baseline to the society/culture that we live in?
This is a continuation of my story from “PTSD Changed My Life…Part 2”
The military is a culture and the Marine Corps is it’s own subculture. We are elite, we are motivated, and we know that we can kick the crap out of those who stand in our way. Talk to any other service about Marines and most will tell you that Marines are one of a kind. We pride ourselves in that differentiation from the normal military.
There are special kinds of people who want to become Marines, either entering on the enlisted or officer track. The most special kind of Marine is the one that was enlisted and then became an officer. These individuals are called “Mustangs” and there was a higher expectation from these officers because they had more experience in the Corps than the 22 year old who just came out of college. They were also crazy enough to go through boot camp twice, once at a recruit depot and then at Officer Candidates School (OCS) in Marine Corps Base Quantico.
“Ductus Exemplo” means “Lead by Example” and it is the official motto of OCS. The staff at OCS made sure that only the best of the best graduated from OCS and commissioned to become 2nd Lieutenants of Marines. “Candidates” are put through 10 weeks of physical, mental, and academic tests to weed out those who are not cut out to be leading Marines. The one difference between enlisted bootcamp and OCS was that candidates were allowed to quit. No questions asked. If a candidate didn’t want to continue, you let your Sergeant Instructor know and that candidate was then sent home.
“Attrition is the mission” was the unofficial motto of OCS. We started with around 88 college educated men in my platoon. Some where straight out of college, some had some experience under their belt and wanted to serve their country. I remember a man from Chicago that told me that he was one of the speech writers for President Obama. That man quit after the 3rd day and same with others who had high hopes to becoming officers of Marines once the Sergeant Instructors got hot and heavy. During the course, some got hurt, some were integrity violators, and some simply quit.
OCS was an interesting time for me as I had to acquaint myself to being stripped of everything again. I was a Staff Sergeant of Marines and now I was Candidate Bautista talking in third person all over again. I wasn’t alone, there were other enlisted Marines in my platoon who were undergoing the same process as me in my platoon. We were the ones that the 22 year old candidates looked up to and came to us about questions. Sometimes it was these enlisted Marines who coached up and motivated these young men to carry on with their ambition of becoming officers when they were on the fence on whether or not to quit. We were the ones who these folks were “looking for example” from during the hard times.
Reflecting on that period of time, I was not as prepared as I could have been. It was a struggle for me because I simply wasn’t as prepared as I should’ve been. I didn’t get the training to make me stronger on endurance hikes. I was put into a leadership position for a time and I wasn’t able to keep up on the first speed hike of the training cycle. My mind kept on moving, my body had other ideas, and my platoon went on without me…I was crushed…I was the senior enlisted in the platoon and I’d just failed.
I kept on failing at other things…academics…keeping up on runs…I was in physical pain…I was studying like crazy and barely passing…
Failure is not an option right? Ductus exemplo? I’m a damn failure…to the Marines I left behind, to the family who needs me…who would ever want to follow me? I was starting a dark path to giving up.
“Bautista” a candidate whispered to me in the middle of the night, “your name is on the white board.”
Like blood in the water and sharks coming in for the kill, so did the Sergeant Instructors set on getting me to break.
How do they do it? They run you hard. They get in your face. They wear you out. Not one hour or a day…think days and weeks…they put on the pressure and you impose pressure on yourself. It builds and builds and builds. Non-stop physical thrashing and self-induced mental manipulation….they are not going to make you quit. You will have to do it yourself.
It was shortly after that we were taken to the National Marine Corps Museum. The displays at the museum portray all the aspects of how Marines are made, the battles they fought in, and the heroic deeds that have been done. I was emotional. I’ve come so far and this is what the Corps has done. Some really amazing things and I’m a part of that. Here I was, going through something that I never thought I would be able to do…
I thought to myself, “Wilson, you have two choices, you either go home and look at all the people that believed you can do this and say that you quit on yourself or you can suck it up and move forward regardless of what they do to you.”
At this point we are 7 weeks into OCS, I’ve been yelled at and run to death for weeks. We just finished a difficult endurance hike going up and down the damn hills of Quantico. I barely made it and I was standing in front of my tent. I was tired. I was hungry.
Out of nowhere seconds after I arrived…
“Disgusting!!!” “You’re weak!!!” bellowed the Sergeant Instructor “Push right now!” “Up, down”.
I start pushing and tell myself “I will not quit”
Another Sergeant Instructor comes in and starts yelling “…and you want to lead?!?” “Weren’t you a Staff Sergeant?!”
I continue pushing….and tell myself “I will not quit”
They get closer and closer to my ears yelling, screaming, and bellowing louder and louder. Sweat is in my eyes and my body is beginning to give out. I can no longer push. I’m exhausted….
The sweat and reddish brown dirt caked on my face, my hands, my uniform…I laid there, in the prone, breathing heavy, and unable to move….
“Why in the fuck are your here BAUTISTA?!”
Right foot planted and then the left foot, I slowly stood up, looked the Sergeant Instructor in the eyes and yelled “This candidate wants to be a Marine Corps Officer!”
A few weeks later, families from all over the nation would come to Quantico and watch their sons march with their platoons on the parade deck. I was selected as one of the four squad leaders of the platoon, which is a leadership position. I’d be marching in front with the other squad leaders of our platoon for our OCS graduation.
After graduation, we would go to the Marine Corps Museum for our commissioning ceremony. We would raise our right hands and say our Oath of Office…
“”I, Wilson Bautista Jr., do solemnly swear (or affirm) that I will support and defend the Constitution of the United States against all enemies, foreign and domestic; that I will bear true faith and allegiance to the same; and that I will obey the orders of the President of the United States and the orders of the officers appointed over me, according to regulations and the Uniform Code of Military Justice. So help me God.”
Tears should’ve been streaming from my face. I held them back. I didn’t want to show my emotions. I have to be tough.
I said to myself “I’ve done it. I achieved my goal. I am now a 2nd Lieutenant of Marines.”
Imposter Syndrome
At this time in my life, I should have been proud. I went through a lot of hell to get to where I was. It wasn’t easy and I didn’t quit on myself. I didn’t give in. Despite everything, I felt that this wasn’t something I deserved. I failed so much and often, how was I to look at myself and “be the example” for my Marines. Failure and experience are great teachers. My experience taught me to push through the hard stuff and that failure in front of Marines is not an option. “You should be able to lead from the front” and “You should be able to be the best” .
There are no feelings when it comes to combat. When you are in a stressful situation, it is your job to bring order to the chaos, as you are the steady hand.
I was full of doubt and felt I didn’t deserve this privilege. I thought that maybe it was selfish of me to be in this position of authority? Now that I’m here, I’d better perform and not fail again…I don’t want to be a failure at leading my Marines.
This is what imposters syndrome feels like.
Wikipedia says that “Impostor syndrome (also known as impostor phenomenon, impostorism, fraud syndrome or the impostor experience) is a psychological pattern in which an individual doubts their accomplishments and has a persistent internalized fear of being exposed as a “fraud”.”
We’ve all had this kind of doubt before in our lives at some time. Some people are better at brushing it off than others. For me, I haven’t brushed it off in years…more on that later.
If you want to know a bit more, read this article on the Harvard Business Review: Overcoming Imposters Syndrome
Still, this thought pattern persisted past OCS…while we had a common purpose in OCS to become officers of Marines, The Basic School (TBS) was an entirely different environment.
What is normal? Should we not be free to choose what our baseline is? Or should we adjust our baseline to what is perceived to be a normalized baseline to the society/culture that we live in?
In next article, I’ll talk about my experience dealing with imposters syndrome, stress inoculation, and the beginnings of depression as well as anxiety.
Everyone has good days and everyone has bad days. Some days are just more terrible than others. If you need to talk about it please call the Substance Abuse and Mental Health Services Administration at 1–800–662-HELP (4357).
You are not alone.
