I was getting nervous and not feeling good about this conversation.  I don’t get like that often. I sensed that confrontation was about to rear its ugly head.

She asked if anything out of the ordinary happened to me while I was in the US Navy.

I responded yes, the government used me in the largest drug bust on a military base.

She pushed for details, saying I could get money for the angst that caused me.

My attempts to stop her prodding were unsuccessful.  I told her I don’t want the government's money, God provides all my needs.   She pushed and pushed, wanting to hear every detail,  saying  I could get a lot of money.

She said I need to go to the VA.  I will need to write down every single detail of what happened to me  in Yuma when I apply for benefits that “will compensate me for this traumatic event.”

By this time I’m frantic and don’t even know where I am anymore. I’ve clearly lost my mind.  I told her I can’t possibly do it.  With almost a commanding tone she told me that I can and I will.

I lost it. I started to shake, unable to function.  It was as if I was back there again, realizing there is a price on my head. That girl with the bashed in skull should have been me. The man waiting for me near the stairs could have killed me.  Bob could have killed me,  Rusty could have found me anytime and killed me.  My car could have blown up with me in it when I left there.  I couldn’t take any more.  I had to get away from her.

I tried to shake it off.  I walked into breakfast with everyone else, sat down, placed my order, and realized I couldn’t eat if I tried.  I was in no condition to eat, talk, or be with people.

We were docked in Sitka and were going to disembark shortly after breakfast.  I left breakfast before my food was served. I went to my room, gathered my things, and began to look for crew members of the ship.  I had to get off NOW.  Surely someone can assist me with that.  There were vans on the dock and they were loading luggage to take to the airport or hotels for the guests on the ship.

The captain saw me and knew something was wrong.  He asked.  I told him I have to get off this ship.  Someone onboard took me back to a terrible time in my life when there was a price on my head and I don’t feel safe here.  He grabbed me and held me tight, saying he will take care of everything for me.  He’ll make sure I’m okay.

The captain asked for one of the female shuttle drivers to come aboard.  She loaded my luggage into a van and took me to a hotel where I was going to spend the night.  I have no idea if we spoke to each other during the ride, as I was numb and afraid again.  It has been 50 years since the incident in Yuma, but it can still haunt me when triggered.

Choose your company well.  Don’t ever feel, as I did, that you owe anyone an explanation for anything or that you need to remain active in a conversation that makes you uncomfortable.  You can simply walk away.  Give yourself permission to do that.  You are not being rude, you are taking care of and protecting yourself. Sometimes that’s the best thing you can do to stay strong and in a healthy frame of mind. No one can give you those gifts except you.