The Story I Never Expected to Tell - Now That I Finally Know It ... is of Hope and Healing
It took almost a year of writing on Substack, but now I know what story I need to tell first.
For as long as I can remember, I answered “What do you want to do?” with:
“I want to make people smile.”
I think I’m supposed to do that with words.
After 11 months writing on Substack, I’m slowly figuring out how to do that. :)
I’ve also figured out the story I need to tell first is not the story I would have expected or chosen.
Last week I wrote about Why I Write. Today I want to tell my story and highlight the part I need to tell first.
When telling a story, some may suggest starting from the beginning. For me, this year has mostly been about trying to figure out where ‘the beginning’ is and which story to pick.
Somewhere in the last few months, something changed. Maybe a few somethings.
I wrote here for about six months before I truly felt any solid, persistent hope. Now, I see hope and promise everywhere. Saying I was “hopeless” would seem extreme, but distant goals are now visible… closer ones seem possible… and achievable ones are actually happening.
Getting to this point is the story I need to tell.
Healing isn’t linear. Achieving a sustained positive trajectory is worth some reflection.
When revisiting my past and searching for meaning and the “right” story, it was like finding rare vibrant threads to weave into a tapestry of healing.
It’s going to take me a while to write it all, but I’m workin’ on it… at an aligned and sustainable pace. ;^)
From War to Writing is the story I need to tell first.
Prelude To War
At first, I thought my story might be about my somewhat unusual childhood.
Growing up as a difficult and only child with a father in a wheelchair, as a left-handed oddball, persistent troublemaker, and decent trumpet player who barely graduated high school and couldn’t survive one year of college led to some interesting stories…
… but those aren’t the tales I need to tell first.
As a whole, what seems most important from my childhood is that eventually I realized I needed to grow up. I outsourced a lot of that to the military and its inherent clear, rigid rules and structures for 24 years.
I’ve been rapidly playing catch-up since I retired. ;p
When I joined the military, I needed:
Discipline — In many areas of my life, I needed to learn to prioritize — to sort Big Rocks and Little Rocks. I struggled to set healthy boundaries, so I let the military do it for me.
A Change of Scenery — I couldn’t put my finger on it at the time, but a new environment was key to getting my life in order.
To start building personal “security.” — Once out my own, long-term security quickly became a driving goal. The military seemed a simple fix. As long as I stayed healthy, out of jail, and generally followed the rules, I’d have job security. If I survived 20 years, the pension should be reliable… as long as the US government remained solvent.
I think I could write a book about how I got there…
… but not yet.
When I left for the service, I was ready for a fresh start.
20 Years of War
Life in the military certainly provided discipline, a change of scenery, and a chance to build some personal security. It also provided so much more.
When thinking of what to write, the story of my 24 years in the US Air Force seemed obvious.
Some of my favorite content creators are veterans utilizing their military expertise, and it is apparently common for vets to write books about their time in the service.
Perhaps I could/should write a book about leadership, resilience, geopolitics, military family dynamics, or any host of topics with a military flair. I feel more knowledgeable about those subjects than anything mental health related…
… but not yet.
For some reason… I keep coming back to ‘war.’
For most of my career, we were a nation at war. To the best of my ability, I tried to keep that in mind in how I approached my job and my duty.
Lest any of us forget we were at war, “Big Blue” happily sent us away often enough to remind us. Seeing fighter jets (that weren’t ours) out our windows during “routine peacetime operations” kept the serious nature of our jobs top-of-mind.
As the years, deployments, and missed life events marched on, maintaining that mindset became increasingly taxing. It came at the cost of more unrecognized sacrifice from my family.
For a while I thought I should write about maintaining a healthy work/life balance.
I took a dive into that when I wrote about my USAF Retirement Ceremony.
As the medals slowly piled up on my chest, the military became a central part of my identity. I wasn’t trying to be Captain America, but eventually it took more effort to simply do my job than I realized at the time. I didn’t see the chaos it caused around me, or recognize the price I, and my family, would pay for that level of focus.
When I addressed these ‘Invisible Wounds of Modern Warfare,’ I said:
At least, As far as I know, I was never shot at...
Statistically speaking, we probably shouldn’t be an intact family. Anecdotally, I don’t have many friends who survived a military career with their family in one piece.
I feel I could, or should, write a book about how we pulled that off…
… but not yet.
On a positive note, the travel was amazing, and the people were incredible. I miss those most. The mission, leadership training and experience, and all the joys of living abroad… those experiences were memorable.
I feel I could write a book about that phase of my life and make people smile, provide hope, and possibly some healing as well…
… but not yet.
The last few years of my career ended with a perfect storm of events that led to an unexpectedly difficult transition into civilian life.
These events led to the story I need to tell:
2018 - I lost my father. I wrote about him, his perseverance, and constantly cheerful demeanor, here. Handling the entire situation of his loss, from grief to the realities of probate and managing an estate as an only child from another part of the country added much excitement and education to our lives. I could probably write a how-to book about navigating that entire chapter… but not yet.
2019 - New Country Surprises / Work Mis-Alignment — We started the final tour of our career abroad. The fresh start in a foreign country brought enough excitement and cultural experiences to keep us fully engaged. Our remote location and near isolation from most of our American peers added challenges that were fun at first but became taxing over time. The type of work I did, including frequently swapping between day and night shifts, put me out-of-alignment in many ways I couldn’t see at the time. The year of opportunity was marked with surprising challenges.
2020 - Lockdowns — When Germany imposed some of the earliest, most strict, and longest lasting lockdowns in the world, the global fear and uncertainty was made worse in our house by our lack of cultural understanding… and it essentially put a halt to our success at learning the culture and easing those same cultural tensions. Stress levels went up again… and stayed up. I don’t know if I’ll ever write much about that season of our journey or the untold ramifications still unfolding in our daily lives.
2021 - Abbey Gate — A poetic ending to 20 years of my war-focused career mindset. We couldn’t stay forever and there was no “good” time or way to leave. Still, the impact the manner of our departure from the AoR had on my mental health was surprisingly challenging to wrangle. If I ever choose to write about politics, I’ll probably address this particular incident very early in that journey.
2022 - War in Ukraine — It took a while for my mind began to settle from the thoughts of Abbey Gate and process the end of the 20-year war. About 6 months later the “war” turned back on… and was on my screen and in my face every day. Later in 2022, my Mom passed away after a lengthy health struggle. It was hard but expected. About a month later, I was on-shift to track and write a report on a Ghost Flight, a rare occurrence of a fatal cabin pressure loss that caused a lot of reaction from my office. This may have been the most “traumatic” year of my career, but still isn’t the story I need to tell first.
2023 - Retired / New Start — Perhaps the biggest overall life change for our family, we retired from the Air Force, moved to a new place on our own without following friends, family, or a job. It was good to make a new home on our terms, but we didn’t expect many of the struggles we were about to face.
2024 - Stopped the Spiral, Settled In — This tumultuous year is a bit of a black-hole to me. My unexpected mental breakdown peaked, and I was spiraling into some type of serious mental health mess, but I started getting a handle on things. I later wrote about how I stopped the spiral and started settling into life here.
2025 - From War to Writing — My first year on Substack and sorting out the chaos. Thank you for coming along for the ride!
These key events illustrate how the road From War to Writing has evolved.
I could probably write a book about how these events compounded and layered, unsolved and unresolved, and contributed directly to the rocky start to my retirement…
… but not yet.
The road From War to Writing is about hope and healing, and that comes first.
From War to Writing
For a while, I thought my story, or at least the one I needed to tell first, would be about my darkest moments and the biggest challenges I overcame immediately after leaving the service...
It took a while to realize the internal mental framework and daily structure I’d carefully crafted to survive the service and strive for ‘excellence’ over 24 years no longer worked… and felt more like old shackles to be discarded…
There was a time, perhaps you could say ‘between war and writing,’ when I didn’t talk to anyone. I avoided my own family and lived in solitude in my basement. That year or so of my life is almost a blur.
Surviving with my family intact, a roof over our heads, and the will and ability to fight on… to start writing and start healing… that was only possible through some mysterious combination of sheer force-of-will, perhaps divine intervention, and support from my family I will never fully appreciate.
… but it is not yet time to tell that story.
My story starts after all that… the one I need to tell first, anyway.
My story is one of hope and healing… of recovery from PTSD and crippling anxiety and reclaiming my life from the brink of self-implosion.
It started with Prologue: My First Attempt at Solitude and continues here every Saturday.
My story is the road From War to Writing, and I invite you to join the journey. 8^)
Sharing the Journey of Hope and Healing
For a while, I was just a few ‘easy’ decisions away from imploding my life, living on the street, becoming ‘a statistic,’ or forcing my family to scramble to put a roof over their heads…
I wrote here for six months before I really felt any true sense of hope.
Now I can see an outline of how the varying phases of my life have impacted me in different ways, all leading to who I am today... and who I am becoming in this new chapter of my life…
…and leading to the story I need to tell.
As I travel the road From War to Writing, I have found many curiosities in the chaos and can finally see the larger tapestry of healing.
Many say you should write advice you would give yourself six months ago. Well, it looks like I’m finally there.
When I always said, “I want to make people smile,” I never thought my mission might be to help those who have forgotten how to do so, as I had for a while.
When challenges arise now, I reach for tools forged and honed in battle along this stage of my journey.
I look forward to sharing these tools with you as I tell the story I never expected to tell.
Until next Saturday, I wish you a pleasant week.
Yours From War to Writing,
- Terry 8^)
If you see something you’d like to know more about - let me know. :)
I often write essays on topics outside the scope of From War to Writing, and I am happy to respond to reader feedback.