I had to think far back for a time when I actually felt “Enough is enough and I can’t take anymore”. It was about 24 years ago and I was in Marine Corps bootcamp in Parris Island, South Carolina. I was looking forward to beginning marksmanship training the next week. That weekend, I was called into the Sargent’s office for some news from home.
So, I sat across from the Sargeant and felt time slow-down and sound distort as she proceeded to tell me that my mom died in an apartment fire. I couldn’t believe it. Up until that point, I had overcome some tough odds to make it out of my neighborhood and finish high school.
After service, my plan included attending college, starting another career and taking care of my mom all along the way. That one beacon of making her life better was abruptly taken away. So, at that moment, I thought “This whole damn life is a farce”, and I chuckled. After that unnerving response, the Sargeant pulled me from training immediately.
As the oldest of three siblings, I was given a choice. Stay and finish bootcamp or take an administrative discharge. I took the discharge and returned home but I couldn’t tell you much about the 3 or 4 weeks that passed. That was time lost to me.
So what brought me out of the “Enough is Enough”? Love.
Love and purpose.
You see, my husband Bernard needed me. He still needs me now. That’s what keeps me from feeling “Enough is Enough”.
This post was written in response to a prompt from The Daily Post to write about when was the last time you were ready to throw in the proverbial towel? Did you end up letting go, or decided to fight on anyway?