Well, it’s about time I moved on from Registered mail section. This job was becoming more and more tedious everyday especially because of all the things they’ve been imposing on us. Saying that the cage isn’t properly made, the lock itself to the cage got broke, now we have to check 285 cards to make sure they’re proper, save more paperwork, and all that. So I’m glad now I’m moved on over to the Locator section. It should be a lot easier and give me more time to freelance about more often.
They have this piece of paper out, called suicide watch. I just thought it was hilarious. They listed the symptoms, which included anxiety, depression, alcohol dependence, isolation, easily irritated, stuff like that. I was thinking to myself, who in this dump isn’t feeling like that? I guess we’re all freaken suicidal.
I’ve made it past the promotion board. Now I’m just waiting on my orders, saying that I’m promoted to E-5, Sergeant. Sergeant Kim. Kind of has a ring to it, I thought. A lot better than Specialist Kim, that’s for sure. Hopefully they find a slot for me soon enough to put me in for E-5.
I think I figured out something. I remember for that for the longest time I didn’t know how basic training changed me. Here’s what I think now. I remember that before I left for basic in the summer of 2001, I thought I was right. That people generally didn’t like me because they constantly saw the older, outdated version of me. Because they couldn’t see the me that I had changed into by the time I was a junior in high school. That’s what I believed. That they didn’t know any better, that I had changed and they just couldn’t see it, didn’t see it, didn’t want to see it. I went to basic, into a crowd of entirely different group. No one liked me. I mean, hell, out of a platoon of 60 people, only maybe 2, 3 or even 4 people liked me. The rest of them didn’t think much of me or just flat out hated me. At first I thought it was because I’m Korean, asian, because there was only 2 of us asians in the platoon. But I reluctantly came to the conclusion later on that I was wrong and that they’re right. I don’t know how I came to that conclusion, and I don’t know what led me to it. I think a lot of it was at the chapel service. The second Sunday service during basic was my first since February or so of that same year. And I remember going just because I figured I might as well play it safe with God, in case the world ends today, then at least I would go to heaven. And perhaps figuring out that my skepticism, my disbelief in God for such a long time that lasted 6 months finally caught up to me. I finally admitted I was wrong, I was not the great person I thought I was. I mean, I was a guy that at the age of 13 thought I was perfect. And I came out of basic, went to school. Only this time I didn’t think I had changed. I thought basic training was hard, but I didn’t see the changes for myself. And I think it was that kind of humble but honest feeling about my experience that people saw. I began to agree with others’ criticism more, and decided to do something about it, instead of always trying to think that I was right and they were wrong, they just don’t know me. And I suppose that’s the same change that people came up to me about. That I must have had gone through something intense for me to have changed, although they couldn’t quite put a finger to what the change was.
So after 2 years of speculation over what the change really was, this is the final decision I have come down to. Of course it could have been a bunch of other reasons, but I feel like this is the main reason. But here, now, I feel like I have changed. And in a lot of ways, I feel like I have changed for the worse. I’m scared. For the first time in my life, I’m scared of going back home. I don’t know how people are going to look at me now. Now that I know I’ve changed, but I’m sure its for the worse. I’ve become so un-sentimental… I don’t give a damn about anything anymore. I mean, I could see myself now, talking to some people, feeling no emotions when they tell me things like their mom died, or they failed a test, they have to wake up too early in the morning, they broke up with someone… We’ve all been there done that now, or, like myself, seen too much of that here. We just accept it and move on, because we can’t get caught in the mist of things, in the emotions that could mean the end of our sane selves. I don’t know if I could ever really care about too much anymore. Or perhaps I would care so much that it will aggravate myself and others. I don’t know. And the future scares me so.