My husband has been gone so much for work, it feels impossible to talk to him.
How do you just open up about having been suicidal to someone who wasn't there or even reachable at the time?
How do you turn on the faucet to pour out emotions and stories that happened when the one you love and are trying so hard not to hurt or run from was away?
He's in bed, asleep. Despite my questions, and my attempts to talk today, I feel like my words were wasted. If he has feelings on any of what I'm going through, he's not showing them to me, and he's certainly not talking about any of it.
I hate that I make him deal with this, with me.
I feel like I'm slowly drowning in a tar pit- slow, dark, hot and never-ending.... and oh so eerily quiet.
Showing posts with label family. Show all posts
Showing posts with label family. Show all posts
Thursday, March 15, 2012
Sunday, March 11, 2012
Family, Love and Being Scared Out Of Your Mind
The Nerdy One mentioned today, in passing as he thought he'd mentioned it before, that his unit is looking at deployment in November-December time-frame.
Now, having been an Army wife for two years, a Soldier for more than four now, and soon-to-be Army wife again, well, there's no surprise when the word "deployment" starts getting thrown around- it's part of daily discussion, what-if's and just-in-case's. We are a nation eternally at war, there's no escaping the possibility.
Before I try to rationally explain the implications and total freak-out I'm experiencing in my head, let me tell you what our last few days have been like.
Recap: Wednesday afternoon, my husband calls me to tell me he'll be leaving for an overnight field problem/range the following morning. I avoid asking what time until many hours later, when he says he will be leaving the house around 0330. Thursday, bright and early, he's gone, and I'm too on edge to sleep. I manage to pack a lot of anxiety into that day, then spend much of the evening with a friend from treatment, who discusses his not-quite-ex-not-quite-girlfriend having Borderline Personality Disorder (BPD) and the symptoms he lists ring all too true of myself. My husband comes home around 4 Friday morning, and we crash-hard- until he leaves for work about two hours later. We knock out as early as we can Friday night, only to wake up to a leak in our apartment ceiling at 0630 Saturday morning. We call the front office, and leave a message when nobody answers. Nobody returns our call.
Husband then goes off to help his friend move for the day, and I head back to my friend's house, because I simply don't handle alone well, and, fortunately for us, neither does my friend right now. We watch tv, and hang out through the afternoon. Then I get my husband, and we come back to my friend's house for a few more hours, coming home after that to find it is nearly raining in our apartment. The "rain" progresses for the next few hours, until we're calling ever emergency maintenance number we can find, and demanding they do SOMETHING. The water has been shut off by around six this morning, and, now, at eleven at night, our apartment still hasn't completely dried out- and all that was effected was carpeting, walls, cabinets and ceilings, thankfully.
Now, about half an hour ago, The Nerdy One mentions we're looking at deployment in about nine months.... This means he'll be out of the Army within months after returning from this deployment. I text my friend, I'll call him Buffalo Boy, and tell him what's going on.
Now, Buffalo Boy has gone from being a friend I see regularly to FAMILY in the last couple days. He's saved my life with the information and support he's given me, and probably saved my marriage in more than one way. He's the first person to get my trust in a non-relationship and completely unconditional manner. I trust this guy, I know his values, habits, emotions and I've never understood what it's like to have a "family member" where there wasn't a question of some sort of perversion. This guy has my back, and it doesn't matter time, place, or anything else. He's my brother.
I found my brother in the looney bin, that could only happen to me.
Anyway, The Nerdy One and I are discussing possibilities and Buffalo Boy is reassuring me that, no matter what, he's going to watch my back, even if it means protecting me from myself sometimes.... and it does.
I can't lose my marriage, I can't wreck it or hurt my husband... I've made too many crappy choices in my life, and I won't go back to allowing that to be my norm....
I'm scared out of my mind, but somewhere in my gut, I know that this will happen, and that between my husband and my new-found Brother, I will prove something to myself, and, frankly, that's not a whole lot more comforting than knowing my husband will spend roughly nine months in harm's way.
Now, having been an Army wife for two years, a Soldier for more than four now, and soon-to-be Army wife again, well, there's no surprise when the word "deployment" starts getting thrown around- it's part of daily discussion, what-if's and just-in-case's. We are a nation eternally at war, there's no escaping the possibility.
Before I try to rationally explain the implications and total freak-out I'm experiencing in my head, let me tell you what our last few days have been like.
Recap: Wednesday afternoon, my husband calls me to tell me he'll be leaving for an overnight field problem/range the following morning. I avoid asking what time until many hours later, when he says he will be leaving the house around 0330. Thursday, bright and early, he's gone, and I'm too on edge to sleep. I manage to pack a lot of anxiety into that day, then spend much of the evening with a friend from treatment, who discusses his not-quite-ex-not-quite-girlfriend having Borderline Personality Disorder (BPD) and the symptoms he lists ring all too true of myself. My husband comes home around 4 Friday morning, and we crash-hard- until he leaves for work about two hours later. We knock out as early as we can Friday night, only to wake up to a leak in our apartment ceiling at 0630 Saturday morning. We call the front office, and leave a message when nobody answers. Nobody returns our call.
Husband then goes off to help his friend move for the day, and I head back to my friend's house, because I simply don't handle alone well, and, fortunately for us, neither does my friend right now. We watch tv, and hang out through the afternoon. Then I get my husband, and we come back to my friend's house for a few more hours, coming home after that to find it is nearly raining in our apartment. The "rain" progresses for the next few hours, until we're calling ever emergency maintenance number we can find, and demanding they do SOMETHING. The water has been shut off by around six this morning, and, now, at eleven at night, our apartment still hasn't completely dried out- and all that was effected was carpeting, walls, cabinets and ceilings, thankfully.
Now, about half an hour ago, The Nerdy One mentions we're looking at deployment in about nine months.... This means he'll be out of the Army within months after returning from this deployment. I text my friend, I'll call him Buffalo Boy, and tell him what's going on.
Now, Buffalo Boy has gone from being a friend I see regularly to FAMILY in the last couple days. He's saved my life with the information and support he's given me, and probably saved my marriage in more than one way. He's the first person to get my trust in a non-relationship and completely unconditional manner. I trust this guy, I know his values, habits, emotions and I've never understood what it's like to have a "family member" where there wasn't a question of some sort of perversion. This guy has my back, and it doesn't matter time, place, or anything else. He's my brother.
I found my brother in the looney bin, that could only happen to me.
Anyway, The Nerdy One and I are discussing possibilities and Buffalo Boy is reassuring me that, no matter what, he's going to watch my back, even if it means protecting me from myself sometimes.... and it does.
I can't lose my marriage, I can't wreck it or hurt my husband... I've made too many crappy choices in my life, and I won't go back to allowing that to be my norm....
I'm scared out of my mind, but somewhere in my gut, I know that this will happen, and that between my husband and my new-found Brother, I will prove something to myself, and, frankly, that's not a whole lot more comforting than knowing my husband will spend roughly nine months in harm's way.
Thursday, March 8, 2012
When I Say Husband...
When I say "husband", I mean best friend.
When I complain about him not doing the dishes, it's because I love him enough that I spent an hour or two cooking him a homemade dinner myself, rather than just throwing something in the microwave or ordering in.
When I get irritated because he left the top off the Aquafor AGAIN, it's because I know that, even if his tattoo is peeling, he can rattle off statistics and facts about what that kind of singing where they change their pitch repeatedly is called (he told me last night, I don't remember), he can do serious math in his head in five seconds flat and explain things like calculus and trigonometry.
When I talk about my husband, I'm talking about the man who can stop everything, no matter how I've treated him, no matter what mood I've been in or what I've promised him, and hold me through the time-traveling, talking to me and reminding me to stay with him. I'm talking about the man who teases me at dinner because he caught the waiter checking me out, and start playing Ms Tattoo Girl every time I get embarrassed because I know I stand out and people are looking at me.
When I talk about my husband, I'm talking about the man who has taught me that unconditional love isn't some theory or myth, or something that only God and some animals are capable of. This is the man who has seen me so angry I've thrown things, hit things and people, he's seen me cry, he's seen me at my absolute worst, and this man still puts his arms around me every single day and tells me I'm beautiful and that he loves me. He's seen me lose control of my emotions in really embarrassing situations and he still tells me he's never giving up on me or leaving me.
This is my second marriage. I've made a lot of mistakes in my life, and I've hurt a lot of people. I don't understand why God or my husband believe I'm worth this kind of love, but I know that I've met the man that I want to argue over baby names with, and the man I want to yell at for letting the kids eat junk food and the man I want to drag out onto the dance floor on our 50th wedding anniversary.
There are men in this world who get what I've been through and/or who I am better than my husband, that's the truth. There is nobody else, though, that will be open to both me getting a Nightster (you know, when I win a few million bucks in the lottery) AND vegan meals, or who is totally okay with me putting up Buddhist statues (yes, I own that one) in our living room, listening to Kick It In The Sticks on repeat for days (okay, he's not really a huge fan of that repeat thing) and for not threatening to kill me for talking about dressing our dog up in costumes.
I love my husband with all my heart. I'm not perfect, I'll never claim to be, but I am so grateful for this man.
When I complain about him not doing the dishes, it's because I love him enough that I spent an hour or two cooking him a homemade dinner myself, rather than just throwing something in the microwave or ordering in.
When I get irritated because he left the top off the Aquafor AGAIN, it's because I know that, even if his tattoo is peeling, he can rattle off statistics and facts about what that kind of singing where they change their pitch repeatedly is called (he told me last night, I don't remember), he can do serious math in his head in five seconds flat and explain things like calculus and trigonometry.
When I talk about my husband, I'm talking about the man who can stop everything, no matter how I've treated him, no matter what mood I've been in or what I've promised him, and hold me through the time-traveling, talking to me and reminding me to stay with him. I'm talking about the man who teases me at dinner because he caught the waiter checking me out, and start playing Ms Tattoo Girl every time I get embarrassed because I know I stand out and people are looking at me.
When I talk about my husband, I'm talking about the man who has taught me that unconditional love isn't some theory or myth, or something that only God and some animals are capable of. This is the man who has seen me so angry I've thrown things, hit things and people, he's seen me cry, he's seen me at my absolute worst, and this man still puts his arms around me every single day and tells me I'm beautiful and that he loves me. He's seen me lose control of my emotions in really embarrassing situations and he still tells me he's never giving up on me or leaving me.
This is my second marriage. I've made a lot of mistakes in my life, and I've hurt a lot of people. I don't understand why God or my husband believe I'm worth this kind of love, but I know that I've met the man that I want to argue over baby names with, and the man I want to yell at for letting the kids eat junk food and the man I want to drag out onto the dance floor on our 50th wedding anniversary.
There are men in this world who get what I've been through and/or who I am better than my husband, that's the truth. There is nobody else, though, that will be open to both me getting a Nightster (you know, when I win a few million bucks in the lottery) AND vegan meals, or who is totally okay with me putting up Buddhist statues (yes, I own that one) in our living room, listening to Kick It In The Sticks on repeat for days (okay, he's not really a huge fan of that repeat thing) and for not threatening to kill me for talking about dressing our dog up in costumes.
I love my husband with all my heart. I'm not perfect, I'll never claim to be, but I am so grateful for this man.
Sunday, March 4, 2012
Rise Again
I need to stop worrying about getting better and/or going back to who I used to be. That person is gone, and she's gone for a reason. I need to simply get past being whatever this mess is, and focus on becoming the wife and mother my family deserves to have. I need my husband and children to see me happy, to see that I love them, and to see that a woman doesn't have to be angry to survive.
I don't recognize who I've become, and I don't like who I see in the mirror, but whoever I keep trying to find under the rubble is gone, nothing but ash now, and I need to accept that so I can start building whoever this person looking back at me is going to be. Charli is dead, the bear has been fought, and the only thing left is to teach this new, baby phoenix how to fly before it turns to ash like it's mother did.
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