My Biggest Regret

Initially, "CHILDHOOD CURSE," was going to be the only story I post. Though it seems the community on YGS has taken an interest on the rest of my life. I do not know how to feel about it. Whether to feel flattered, inspired or otherwise, I have decided to post another one of my ongoing brushes with the supernatural/ paranormal. Maybe it may provide some solace to others who are going through something they don't quite understand.

First and foremost, I do not wish for sympathy from members of this board, nor am I phishing for any. So, please do not feel obligated to. I do not claim I know what is going on around me, or have any answers. It is mere speculation as no one truly knows. Here's to hoping one day we as a society in whole know just as much as we do about dinosaurs then we do of ghost and the life after death. "I've never seen a dinosaur, but it doesn't stop me from believing in them."

If you have read my aforementioned story prior, I went through a very dark period. I was withdrawn from the world. Though deeply depressed, it didn't require medical attention nor medication of any sorts. But that feeling of self loathe was always present.

As I've grown older, I've considered the possibility of: schizophrenia, multiple personality disorder, split personality disorder and any and all forms of mental disorders due to hearing

Disembodied voices I can't quite make out or seeing shadows. I cannot pinpoint the blame on any one particular instance of my life for the depression. Rather, I've come to acknowledge that it was a culmination of every shiat storm that occurred throughout my life. (I apologize for the expletive). But that is another story.

I am thankful, believe it or not, to have gone through that period in life. The whole experience taught me to sit back on a curve ball and drive it, or taking lemons and making lemonades. It showed me

The grey in between the black and white and taught me an appreciation for struggles and the Little things in life. I am a firm, firm, believer in there's a good in everything, or a silver-lining.

A lot has happened, since the publishing of, "Childhood Curse," just as a lot as happened before that. Occurrences dating back to as early as my infant years, though none, I feel as profound as the story mentioned above... Until a little over a year ago.

I was to embark in a new chapter of life. A childhood dream come to life. 1100 I shipped to boot camp for the United States Air Force (Eagles) in San Antonio Texas. Airman D, had a really nice ring to it. But as all dreams do, they end. In my case I awoke in a

Nightmare. Regretfully, and I say this with the utmost sincerest regret, I was discharged a month into training (honorably, though that does very little in way of making me feel better). I loved my time there... This is a tough subject for me to talk about. I apologize in advance for being vague illustrating the environment of boot camp. I do not want to over step any boundaries.

Very recently, before I got to training, a trainee (what we called airmans in bootcamp) committed suicide. He jumped out the fire escape and passed away. As a result, big brother that is boot camp, became huge brother. Tolerance for unwanted or questionable behavior were 0.

My first night there was probably the most tiresome. Might it from the anticipation and the anxiety of the perusing unknown or the countless hours of hurry up and wait while at reception is to be debated. The group I arrived with were one of the few "lucky ones" as we got there at 2100, one of the earlier batch of new recruits the military has just acquired.

Upon arrival, we waited in a big auditorium, with faces from all over the world. Sitting, silently. Sitting... And sitting and waiting and sitting until 0300. We were split up into our flights and that's when I first met my airmen brothers.

We arrived at our barracks, a big multi-story looking warehouse. Each floor had two adjacent rooms with two rooms in each. Without giving away too much, imagine a gym locker room, with bunk beds and lockers to each side of the walls. About 30 beds to a room, give or take. Sitting side by side, staged parallel to each other in a roll of 2. White hospital sheet beds, a wool blanket and one worn out pillow. To the walls were big high school lockers, essentially our whole boot camp life was to be lived out in there. From the entrance to the room sat the latrine, which I had the pleasantries of being in charge of. (sarcasm). Ahead of thr bathroom was the other room identical to the first. We each picked a bed and tried to get some sleep. Just as I drifted off, our Military Instructors came barging in and gave us a rude awakening.

The first day went by as a blur. Remember how I said the first night was the toughest, well I lied. The first day was the hardest. A lot of hurry up and wait. Things went by without incident the first couple days. Our third day, probably the hardest day of all (notice the theme? We came to realize everyday was the hardest day until week 6 of boot camp) we got our fatigues. There was a sense of pride I felt that is unparalleled. Though exhausted, nervous and in a state of shock, that pride I felt overwhelmed everything else. This is when my dreams, slowly turned into a nightmare for me.

We had our first physical training test. Woke up at 0500, shaved, brushed our teeth and lined up by the door single file at attention waiting to match down to the field. Made sure our laces were tied and tucked away, our shirts were tucked and in unison chanted our squadrons motto.

We made our way to the running pad. At 0530 it was already 70 degrees and humid. We had to run 3 miles and rest (walked) a minute then sprint for 15 secs and rested and rinse and repeat. Running my third lap around the track, a female airman shoulders apart from me went limp, crashed face first on the track and fainted. Til this day, I remember how her eyes rolled back in her skull, mouth open and her leg going limp and eventually giving way. She began to have a seizure. I couldn't do anything, I wasn't allowed to touch her to see if she was okay. I just jogged in place around her until one of the MTI noticed, rushed over and took her to SAMMC. I felt totally helpless.

A week after, I was doing my rounds as with a wingman in our barrack at 0200. It was a rotating shift to to ensure everyone was accounted for. I made my way round while my wingman sat at the door, I made a turn and my flashlight casted a light at the corner of the wall by the bathroom. I could have sworn I saw a black mass sitting there. I did a quick double take to make sure I didn't imagine things. Sure enough, there it was a shadow about 4 foot in height hunched over the corner of the wall watching me.

Here I was, frozen mid stride with my body turned halfway to step into the other bay of our barracks with my head and right hand holding the flashlight torque the other way staring down at a black mass of nothingness. Frozen in utter disbelief for a few seconds as my mind was trying to make sense of what I was staring at and what was staring at me. I thought to myself can it just be lack of sleep? Maybe the moonlight in the night sky casted a shadow of an object outside inside. Was it staring at me? I saw no eyes but I felt it piercing inside me.

A million thoughts ran through my head in a few seconds trying to make sense of it all, then without noticing my legs starting moving towards it. As I took a couple steps, the shadow slowly dissipated. Then there was nothing. My wingman broke the silence asking me what the headcount was. 56.

From that night on, my demeanor changed. I became irritable, as though I can come unhinged at any moment. I don't remember much, to be honest there were lapses of time lost I can't recall. All I can remember was the feeling of anger and angst. Over the next two days I became unapproachable, I was still functioning well enough to go unnoticed by the MTI.

One night during mail call, we went our meet room. People were excited about receiving mail from home, and having that familiar voice in their head as they were reading about the life they've temporarily put on hold. Pushing ensued. That set me off. I clinched my fist, as I started to cocked back and swing, I stopped myself. I bit my teeth so hard it almost felt like I was going to them. Instead I shoved two of my wingman to the ground and was getting ready to fight but I stopped. I walked away back to my bed laid down in tears.

The next morning I went to see our chaplain. Telling him how irritable I've been getting and how uncharacteristic that was of me. He allowed me the option of going to talk with our on Base psychologist to sort things out thinking it may be anxiety caused by change. I agreed. I called my parents and told them I'll be at the medical side of training for awhile. Here I made the mistake of agreeing with the psychologist.

Due to the recent suicide, the Air Force was not going to take any chances. They discharged me because I said yes I have thought of death. Not that I've thought of suicide, just death. At the time being sent home was a blessing. I had fits of rage that was very hard to contain. I did not want to hurt anyone.

When I got home, my mother told me she went to see my aunt's friend. She is a shaman. She described the day I picked up my fatigue, what I wore what (mom's sis) the day was like. She knew the day and the general time of day. She then proceeded to tell my mother I witnessed something horrifying and it since latched itself onto me and followed me back home. She told my mom to take my backpack and leave it outside before I came in the house. I don't know how she knew I bought a backpack at the Rx. (don't worry Rook, she is a family friend now and never sought any compensation.)

I asked why they consulted a shaman, why the worrisome. My mother showed me letters I mailed home I had no recollection of. Letters exclaiming my self loathe, how I hated everyone. Out of character she got worried. I then told my mom about the shadow I saw. She saw this as confirmation that the shaman was correct and so we went to see what we can do.

Long story short, we found out I got possessed, by a spirit that lurks there praying on males. It was a female spirit. We did a huge ceremony for me, sacrifice a couple pigs and a chicken.

Over time, 2 to 3 months later I started to feel myself again. As if I'm relieved. We got the name of the spirit that latched itself onto me. If interested email me for the name.

My parents took this as a sign, a higher power doesn't want me in the military. I, of course being stubborn, thought it was nonsense. I went to the army recruit station, filled out all the proper paperwork, April 2015 and was going to get a ship day. The same day I turned in my paperwork, I got called out to play basketball with my friends, something I do occasionally. Might it be a coincidence or maybe my parents were right with their superstition, I broke my leg and my process got put on hold.

I'm trying my best to get back into service as it is my passion to help others. To be part of something bigger than myself. And also to be part of a family. Sorry this is so long and drawn out with an anti-climatic ending. I just thought I should cut it off before I write a book.

P.s. I'm not crazy. I don't have any mental disorder (that's what a crazy person would say).

P.S.S What can I say, I attract lady ghosts LOL