I began seeing a therapist again. Not by choice. The command referred me. Nearly everyone in the intelligence shop saw one, of course. I’d received a litany of misdiagnoses over the years, generalized anxiety disorder being the most common. Of course, it was gender dysphoria that caused the anxiety and depression spirals, but I wasn’t ready to face that yet. I’d first gone to see someone when I had panic attacks as a teenager in Oklahoma. But in Iraq, depression, anxiety, anger, and extreme stress were logical reactions to what we were seeing. How could I watch people die and not be affected?
