Chasing the Dragon
“How many more times are you planning on doing this?”
I stopped packing my bag and looked up at my wife. She stared back at me with zero expression, as she waited for an answer. My clothes and gear were scattered across the bed next to her.
“Going to Israel or leaving in general?” I continued to pack.
“Both.” She said.
I made a face as if I was thinking deeply, in order to delay my response. My helmet, plate carrier, and medical kit were the last items to go in the bag.
“I don’t know, but I don’t want to do this too much longer.”
I was partially lying, and she knew it. Yet, she understood that I wasn’t leaving because of orders from higher or for a paycheck. I received neither. She knew I was leaving because there were people that needed help and I was not only capable, but willing to do it. I really didn’t know how many more times I was planning on going overseas. I was packing for my seventh overseas trip this year, when my wife asked me that question, and we weren’t even halfway through the year yet. I celebrated the previous Christmas away from the family in Africa and adventured through the Namibian desert for the next few weeks into the new year. Then I traveled back and forth to the Middle East and Europe, and now, I was getting ready to head to Israel for the third time in the past few months. As much as I love being home and enjoying time with my wife and kids, I still can’t seem to ever stay. I’ve spent countless nights away, thinking of my kids, trying to imagine their faces and hear their voices. I’d tear up thinking about how bad I wish I could hold them and play with them, or to be lying in bed with my wife. Yet, once I’m home, my mind is anxiously anticipating the next adventure that is going to send me far away again. I’ve been chasing the dragon for years now, and no matter how hard I work or how many lives I impact, it is never enough.
After retiring from spending nearly 16 years serving in the military and deploying around the world, I thought I’d finally stay grounded at home in a normal civilian career. However, that didn’t happen. The transition back to civilian life has been an arduous journey, fraught with challenges and uncertainties. While the camaraderie, adrenaline rush, and sense of purpose in special operations are unparalleled, the return to civilian life often leaves a void, a profound sense of losing purpose. It is a sentiment shared among many of my fellow special operators, driving us to seek ways to recapture that same feeling of meaning and fulfillment. For special operations veterans, the military provided a clear sense of purpose and mission. Every deployment was a chance to make a tangible difference, to defend our nation and its interests, and to forge bonds with each other and the people we sought to protect. However, upon transitioning back to civilian life, the absence of such defined objectives can be disorienting. Suddenly, the routine of daily life pales in comparison to the fast-paced operational tempo and the high-stakes missions we were accustomed to. Likewise, we go from being around “the dudes,” which is arguably the most important component, to trying to blend in and relate to people that have very little in common with us. Although we are great at adapting and can play the part well in our new environment, our mindset is so set apart from the average person, it can leave us feeling adrift, searching for something to fill the void. However, not every veteran needs the same level of excitement as they had during their time in service, and many are content and find meaning and purpose in pursuing careers completely different than what they did in the military. Unfortunately, many veterans do struggle with this loss of purpose during their transition and isolate themselves, turning to alcohol or other harmful substances.
Although combat trauma, including post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD), traumatic brain injury (TBI), and other mental health conditions is a significant contributing factor to veteran suicide, the loss of purpose and camaraderie our substantial reasons for why veterans are losing their mental health battle. Many veterans struggle to find meaningful employment, maintain stable relationships, and adjust to the rhythms of civilian life, which can exacerbate feelings of isolation and despair. During my transition out of the military, I went through a roller coaster of emotions. In the beginning, I was so burnt out, mentally and physically, that I wanted nothing to do with anything military related. I attempted to remove myself as far as possible from the other guys and sought out careers in real estate and finance. Although I had some early success, I struggled to relate to the other people I worked with. I decided to quit and start my own business, thinking I just needed to be my own boss and control my schedule. I started my own skateboard company and helped launch a nonprofit to connect veterans through skateboarding.
It was a new experience that often didn’t feel like work. I was able to skateboard and goof off with friends, while helping many veterans in the process. However, despite the fun I was having and being surrounded by fellow veterans, I still felt like something missing. Several days out of the week I would go skate with some of the sponsored riders for my company. Although I wasn’t as good as them, it was still a lot of fun to just be on the board and exploring new places. It felt like how it was when I was a young teenager, hopping fences and skateboarding everywhere we went. We’d constantly get kicked out of spots by security, because typically, the best places to skate are in areas you’re not allowed to. We were usually confronted in a courteous and respectful manner, and they’d politely ask us to leave the area. If they were really kind, they’d allow us to attempt our trick one or two more times before we had to go. However, sometimes, we’d have a super Karen rush over to scream and berate us.
On one occasion, our group had hopped a fence of an elementary school with a famous skate spot near in San Diego. We had just been on the property for roughly five minutes when this woman runs over from the opposite side of the campus and demands we leave the area. We make a brief attempt to plea with her to let us stay, and quickly realize she’s not going to budge one bit. Although we agreed to leave and started to make our way to exit the property, she continued to follow us and calling us names. It didn’t help that one of our guys was fueling the fire by making comments back to her. As we walked out, her still yelling and my friends still laughing, I thought to myself. Not long ago, I was the operations chief on a Marine Special Operations Team, sitting across from the U.S. Ambassador to Yemen and briefing him on a specialized program I was managing that had strategic level impact on the battlespace. Now, I’m hanging out with guys in their late 30’s who act like teenagers and getting yelled at and called a piece of shit by grounds keepers at an elementary school. What am I doing with my life?
For those that followed my journey on social media during that time, may have seen me constantly smiling and making silly videos. However, most didn’t know I was hurting because I hid how much I was struggling extremely well. It wasn’t until Mike O’Dowd, the founder of Defense Strategies Group, invited me out to Africa with him the first time that I felt that same sense of purpose like I had felt when I was in the military. I remember looking up at the incredible display of the stars and the milky way one night after a long campfire discussion and deciding right then that I was going to shut down my company and pursue something different. Although not everyone agreed with that decision, it didn’t matter, because it was the best decision for me. For the next year, I traveled several more times to Africa, while also helping a friend launch their own production company back home. With each new trip overseas, I spent a lot of time off my phone and in deep thought looking up at the stars. It was during those trips bonding with other like-minded men who sought after adventure, and quiet nights under the African stars where I knew I wasn’t done chasing the dragon.
The phrase "chasing the dragon" encapsulates the relentless pursuit of fighting for something bigger than ourselves, that sense of danger and adventure that characterized our time in the military. It's not just about seeking excitement; it's about reclaiming that sense of purpose and that feeling of being truly alive in the face of imminent threat. For many special operations veterans, this drive manifests in various forms, from extreme sports, or various forms of martial arts, to serving others on humanitarian missions, or operating in conflict zones. We are drawn to activities that allow us to push our limits, to test ourselves in ways that civilian life seldom offers. Today, I’m grateful for the opportunities Defense Strategies Group has provided, which allows me to serve others in a meaningful way. Likewise, working with Defense Strategies Group has continued to give me the flexibility to take advantage of additional opportunities with other nonprofit organizations that are making a positive impact overseas.
While the journey to reclaim purpose after leaving the military is fraught with challenges, it is not a hopeless endeavor. Many special operations veterans discover that true fulfillment lies not in replicating past experiences, but in finding new ways to serve others and make a difference. Whether it's through mentorship programs, community service, or pursuing meaningful careers, there are countless opportunities for us to channel our skills and experiences towards positive ends. By embracing these new challenges and endeavors, we can find a renewed sense of purpose; a purpose that transcends the battlefield and enriches the lives of others.
In conclusion, the battle with losing purpose after transitioning back to civilian life is a deeply personal and complex journey for special operations veterans. Yet, it is also a journey filled with opportunities for growth, self-discovery, and service to others.
Benjie Manibog
DSG cadre and Retired Marine Raider
“Men, Special Forces is a mistress. Your wives will envy her because she will have your hearts. Your wives will be jealous of her because of the power to pull you away. This mistress will show you things never before seen, and experience things never before felt. She will love you, but only a little, seducing you to want more, give more, die for her. She will take you away from the ones you love, and you will hate her for it, but leave her you never will, but if you must, you will miss her, for she has a part of you that will never be returned intact. And in the end, she will leave you for a younger man.” – James R. Ward, Office of Strategic Services
