Transitioning Out of the Military: The Mental Struggle & Finding Your Place

A lot of us start a countdown to our EAOS (End of Active Obligated Service), looking forward to the freedom—no more duties, musters, room inspections, or routing a chit for every little thing. No more terrible duty stations far from home. We think, “It’s greener on the other side.”

But is it?

Take it from a fellow Navy veteran—hospital corpsman, in for six years, now out for one. I finally feel like I’ve gotten over the hump of transitioning to civilian life, but it wasn’t easy. I thought I was setting myself up for success. I had my bachelor's degree, my medical assistant and phlebotomy certifications, and even started my personal training certification. I was ready to step out and land a good job.

I was wrong.

The Culture Shock of Civilian Life

At first, I did what seemed logical—I went right into the same field I worked in while on active duty. But within months, I realized I didn’t fit in. My humor didn’t land with my coworkers. I had nothing in common with them. I have a whole tattoo sleeve, don’t own a Stanley cup, and definitely don’t listen to Taylor Swift. I’m from LA—I grew up on YG, Bow Wow, and Chris Brown. But instead of just talking about music, the first thing people said was, “Doesn’t he have a history of abuse?”

Beyond that, the work itself felt like a downgrade. As a corpsman, I did toenail removals, Nexplanon insertions, venipunctures, administered meds—you name it. Now? I was booking appointments and getting asked if I knew how to take a manual blood pressure. For $18 an hour.

Then there was the social dynamic. In the military, you’re thrown into a melting pot of people from all over the world, and you figure it out. If you have an issue, you handle it. In the civilian world? Disagreements go straight to HR. What I saw as an adult conversation, others saw as confrontation. Did I need to tone myself down? Be more "preppy" and fake happy? That wasn’t me—but I didn’t know how to fit in.

The Mental Toll No One Warns You About

TAPS and TRS classes touch on transitioning to civilian life, but they don’t prepare you for the mental struggle. I submitted my VA claims before I got out—still got messed up. Fixed it, and now I’m waiting months for a mental health appointment. When I finally got in, my provider wasn’t military. They listened, but they didn’t get it.

And that’s what makes this transition so hard—civilians don’t always understand what we go through. They think, “It’s just a job.” But is it?

Did you get sent overseas alone at 18? Were you treated like a child with curfews and permission slips for everything—just to live your life? Did you spend 12 hours sitting in a barracks duty chair, counting the minutes? If you're having a bad day? Wipe your damn tears because you’ve got a patient in two minutes. Friendships you have? Good luck, because you’re PCSing in a few weeks.

It’s not just a job.

And yet, I’ve heard it more times than I can count—“You’re so lucky with all those VA benefits.”

I’m not saying this is a competition or anything, but hear me out. Was it luck? Or did I put in my time and work? Did I not earn every bit of it? Because if this is luck, then tell me—where was that luck when I was running on no sleep, standing duty, missing holidays, pushing through pain because there was no calling in sick?

The truth is, a lot of us struggle in silence after getting out. Every day, an average of 17 veterans die by suicide. Some of them were our coworkers, our friends, our family. That could have been me. It could have been you. And if you’re in that place where it feels like it’s never going to get better—I swear to you, it does.

The One Thing That Got Me Through

The only consistency in my life? The gym.

I remember doing tricep pushdowns, tears in my eyes, not even knowing why I felt so lost. For months, I was just going through it. I felt like no one understood me, like I didn’t belong anywhere. But then I started meeting other veterans at my gym—Marines, Navy, Army, Air Force. And that’s when things started to shift.

We bonded over the same miserable chow hall food, the terrible duty stations, the weird rules we followed for years. It was that same military camaraderie I had been missing. We weren’t just gym partners—we became a family.

And that’s what I want other veterans to know: You’re not alone.

This transition is hard. It’s frustrating. It can make you feel like you don’t belong anywhere. But give yourself grace. Find your people. And when nothing else feels right, just show up—whether it’s at the gym, a veteran meetup, or wherever you find your support system.

Because even when it feels like the weight is too much to carry—I promise, it gets better.

If You’re Struggling, Please Reach Out

You don’t have to do this alone. If you or a fellow veteran is struggling, there are people who care and want to help:

Veterans Crisis Line – Dial 988, then Press 1 (24/7, confidential support)
Text "838255" – To connect with a VA crisis counselor
Online Chat – www.veteranscrisisline.net
Find a Local Vet Center – www.vetcenter.va.gov (Confidential counseling for combat vets & families)

You made it through the military. You’ll make it through this, too.

You’re doing better than you think. Keep pushing.