Why Do Some Veterans Take Their Lives? Unraveling the Hidden Struggles

"The object of life is not to be on the side of the majority, but to escape finding oneself in the ranks of the insane." - Marcus Aurelius.

You only understand the bonds of service if you have served in the military. They are relationships formed from the mutual suffering individual servicemen and women incur for their careers. They began for me the second I stepped off the bus at Marine Corps Recruit Depot, San Diego, in 2002. The relationships I have formed are more substantial bonds than most marriages or relationships because they are pure and altruistic without any expectation. They have carried me through a divorce, pending career implosion, the deaths of loved ones, and the guilt of survival. They were the strength I needed in my darkest times while on active duty.

You always have an ally around to help you in your time of need, to be the voice of reason, and to give you feedback instantly when you are anything less than perfect. Most service members don't realize this is a known constant as it becomes your life. The second you end your time in service, those same bonds and sense of community can dissipate and significantly contribute to the downfall of service members post-separation. In this week's newsletter, I hope to open your eyes to the realities of unique service and the importance of adequately nurturing these relationships that can save you or members of your tribe.

Recruiting Station Sacramento

In 2007, I found myself a young 23-year-old sergeant on duty, where I celebrated some of the highest and lowest times in my career. It was here that I first met Danny Breck , a young recruiter suffering from the challenges of recruiting for the Marine Corps. Stephen and I had never previously worked together but quickly developed a relationship that would carry me through some very dark and challenging times. He was a source of competition and motivation and would be a trusted confidant when faced with additional stresses. I have come to appreciate the most from him, and he would never allow me to develop an ego or arrogance about myself. He never accepted me for the flaws that I would show and always pushed me to get better. He held me accountable every month, and it was out of fear of letting him down and not achieving my potential that pushed me harder. He knew/knows me better than I know myself, and in moments of weakness, he steps in to avert complete failure. He is one of the reasons I had a successful career in the Marine Corps and is the main reason I walk this earth today.

Matt Lasher was a senior in rank but junior in recruiting experience, but he demonstrated what senior leadership looks like. He was humble and hardworking and could be trusted with any problem without fear of rumors spreading in moments of weakness. Matt was the first to leave the active-duty tribe while we were still all relatively young and disappeared into the workforce with minimal contact. For many years, I didn't understand if I had upset him, and he decided he no longer wanted to be in contact. In moments, I would think of him, see a random social post, and want to reach out. Life continued, I got busy, and he was living life. It wasn't until my retirement that we reconnected and started to work together again. Months after our new work relationship began, I found myself in conversation asking how we ever grew apart. His answer was simple: you guys had the mission, and I didn't want to bother you. I didn't realize that he was going through some dark and challenging times. I could have been a source of strength for him. I should have been a source of strength for him.

Countless other characters make up the time in Sacramento; however, they are still on active duty, and I will share those stories when the time is right.

Recruiting Station Denver

Denver was a challenging time for me, as I had just left one of the most dynamic teams I had ever participated in. The station was searching for its identity, and enormous challenges existed. I was fortunate enough to be surrounded by teammates who wanted to build a powerful station of good human beings who cared for the mission and each other. I found myself in middle management leadership roles and transitioned to becoming a more seasoned leader in leadership positions. I suffered my first major loss when my marriage came to an end.

During this time, Charles Foster stepped into the void to pick up the broken pieces of my life and prevented me from going down a more dangerous path to myself. He was our senior enlisted Recruiting Instructor, and rather than allowing me to wallow in sorrow, he forced me to invest time in myself. He was an avid Crossfitter, and I started to become his WOD partner. "Chuck" was the most honest human in the world who held me accountable professionally and personally and forced me to grow as a man. He wasn't nice in his delivery, but he was honest, forceful, and exercised empathy while letting me grow. Whenever I would start to go "rogue," he would step in after I had experienced enough pain so as not to repeat the same mistake.

Countless other characters make up the time in Denver; however, they are still on active duty, and I will share those stories when the time is right.

Recruiting Station San Francisco

Jeremy Shorten was among the most intelligent, methodical, and understanding men I ever served with. He would give me just enough freedom to learn from mistakes that I would make but would quickly help me learn from them. He was quick to identify gaps or flaws but also gave me the time and space to ensure that I would avoid repeating them. This instant feedback allowed me to grow faster and gain confidence in my leadership. He never accepted me for the Marine, man, or leader I was and demanded more daily. This was frustrating, but I was prepared and ready for increased responsibility when he was done with me. He is still the hardest on me, but it is welcomed.

John F. Carbiener, M.L.S. is one of the most loyal friends I have ever had and is a true tribesman. He allowed me to make mistakes and probably played a part in some of those mistakes. John would come to be the man that I would call on in moments of heartbreak, injury, or rage and would find a way to put a smile on my face to calm me down and put things in perspective. He was honest, intelligent, and committed, and he made me realize that any professional achievement would not define my life. He is a man who, if I call at 3 AM, answers the phone and heads to where I need him.

Countless other characters make up the time in San Francisco; however, they are still on active duty, and I will share those stories when the time is right.

IT ENDS IN 30 MINUTES

After my retirement ceremony, I became a "Free Man" who no longer had the burden or responsibility of caring for anyone other than myself. I could finally pursue any dream uninhibited by additional rules and regulations. My phone was no longer ringing all day and night, and I started to enjoy life. With this newfound freedom, I realized I was less connected to the men I referenced above and the others I would consider part of my "tribe."

As my transition continued, additional stressors increased, with the prospect of finding new employment, relocating to another city, and caring for my grandparents. Add a confusing process to settle affairs with the government into the equation and a system that makes you feel broken. The regular connection points that service provided were gone, and it now required planning and coordination, with many of my tribe members going through their own struggles. The bright light in my life was Stephen Breck, who could sense a breaking point with the passing of my Grandmother and his insisting that I make a trip to visit him in the Midwest.

During that visit, I could unload all I had been enduring individually. He empathized and put things into perspective, but he pushed me forward, sensing that the loss of community and forced peer accountability was hindering my progress toward moving past the obstacles. The sense of relief that I experienced and the feelings of familiarity were precisely what I needed. I also needed to work through these moments to gain perspective of what potential I could achieve if I worked and maintained the relationships with the people that made my service worthwhile. At that moment, I realized that many who don't have that type of kinship face the same obstacles and can't pull themselves out of the darkness.

Many believe veteran employment should be the end state to be achieved upon separation from service. While I agree that it is an essential component, it is less important than helping service members reintegrate into society in a balanced and supported environment. It takes time to decompress from service and most will deeply miss the bonds that have been formed over time. In many cases, it is the total loss of community that starts the Veteran decline, and the fallacies of employment being the moniker of success does not help impact the pandemic of deaths that are a result of the same.

The journey from military service to civilian life is often fraught with challenges, particularly regarding the loss of the tight-knit community and support systems inherent in military life. As Marcus Aurelius aptly put it, "The object of life is not to be on the side of the majority but to escape finding oneself in the ranks of the insane." This quote resonates deeply with the experiences of many veterans struggling to navigate a world that may seem alien after the structured camaraderie of military service.

Organizations and stakeholders must recognize their pivotal role in facilitating smoother transitions for veterans. By working together to improve employment outcomes, implementing programs like Skillbridge to bridge the gap between military service and civilian careers, and fostering communities that can support the unique stressors faced by transitioning service members, we can significantly mitigate the challenges that contribute to the mental health crisis among veterans.

Smoother transitions not only ensure that veterans find meaningful employment but also help them maintain a sense of purpose, camaraderie, and belonging that is vital for their well-being. Through collaborative efforts, understanding, and support, we can create a more resilient community of veterans who thrive beyond their time in uniform. Let us strive to build a future where every service member's transition is met with empathy, opportunities, and a supportive network, ultimately leading to fewer tragic losses and brighter futures for our veterans.