Morning

It's almost time for me to leave for my therapy appointment with the doctor who talks more than I do, but I had a few minutes after I got done getting ready and I needed to write.
I feel like things are bouncing a bit right now- better to worse- on a near-daily basis. I feel so much better, and, other days, I catch myself contemplating suicide more than is even vaguely rational. I'm tired of fighting, and I want a release. I think I can make it after I get out, now, and I have a few ideas I'm scared to put too much stock into, because I don't trust myself to see them through, but they are, potentially, good ideas.
Buffalo Boy has been incredibly supportive of my ideas, though my husband seems to be drowning in my issues right now. I asked him to take some initiative to try and learn more about what I'm dealing with because, frankly, I'm out of ideas for how to help him. I really feel like I'm just dragging him down as I'm trying to stay afloat. I guess drowning really is a good analogy for this.
We see his chaplain and an actual therapist for marriage counseling, I see my own one-on-one therapist, the doctor at the treatment clinic and am enrolled in an outpatient therapy program, yet he still seems to be struggling to understand any of it. I've written emails, given him the address to this blog (which he reads about once a month) and suggested books. I've asked him to do his own research, because I don't even know what parts of the picture he's missing right now. He's going to be busy with training and deployment preparations for a while, and, frankly, if we don't get on the same sheet of music by the time he deploys, I am not positive we'll make it through that deployment. I want this to work, but I'm so damn tired of fighting for everything I just don't know what will anymore.
Just trying to keep my head up for another week....

Buffalo

Yesterday was a very rough day around here.

It was the last day before my husband would be returning from a week-long field problem, our truck got hit in a parking lot, I helped teach a Service Dog training class, and, of course I went to treatment. I managed to sleep through alarms yesterday morning, so I missed the check-in with my unit I'm supposed to be doing every (very early) morning.

After I saw that the quarter paneling on the truck was crunched up pretty good, I went to spend some time with Buffalo Boy. I've missed hanging out with him a lot, and, these last few days more than ever. Mr Nice Guy is the best husband I could ask for, but there's a lot of qualities we don't share, and for the times I need someone who understands the PTSD, the non-shy introverted personality, and the wild streak, Buffalo Boy is my shelter.   Anyone who's been keeping up with my writing knows that I am quite frequently surprised by how close I've become to Buffalo Boy, and, all the while, still plenty able to keep up a friends-only boundary system with him that makes our friendship so much less complicated than it could potentially be. 

Anyway, we watched Eastbound And Down- a show I haven't seen before yesterday. It's not something I would have expected to enjoy, but it turned out to be pretty entertaining. Buffalo Boy and I also got a lot of venting and discussing of symptoms and issues done, and that always helps so much. I can't explain how easily I relax around this massive, muscular, tattooed biker dude that, in so many ways, should probably scare me. It was just really nice, sitting there on his couch, with the cat he didn't realize was pregnant running around crying, my service dog looking at the cat like lunch (even though that cat has made her point more than once with my dog) and us just, for lack of better word, bitching.

It's so nice to have a friend like that.

Anyway, the husband is headed back today, and I'm sitting here writing as I should be cleaning. I'm just so tired. Oh well, back to it.

Consumed

My ex-husband let me think I'd cheated on him all this time, when he'd understood the entire time that it was an assault. It tears me apart that I've hurt several people whom I cared about very much because I was so convinced I was incapable of being faithful to someone who wasn't nearby.
I don't know how to process all of this, but it hurts me clear down to my soul. I let this man get into my head so much that I believed I was this horrible, cheating, out-of-control woman who was incapable of taking other people's emotions into account when she should have. I'm so disgusted with myself for all of this. Until recently, my ex-husband and I have been friends, but, right now, for the first time, I am so disgusted by the fact that I allowed this man into my heart and mind to such an extent that he could hurt me so badly for so long that I can't even speak to him.
Mr Nice Guy and I have been dealing with a lot of stress with an upcoming deployment that was recently announced, my medical board, all the fun PTSD stuff and just day to day life as newlyweds- not to mention the incredible amount of trouble I have gotten from the army side of the house as of late. Yesterday, we had the closest thing to a fight we've ever had. We've been discussing trading in his gas guzzling pick up for a car. Originally this was his idea, as he prefers driving cars. I prefer trucks, but $100/week in gas is enough to make anybody rethink their stand on that. Yesterday, I guess he was questioning his feelings on this, but he made the first passive-aggressive comment he's ever directed at me when he took a shot at my truck- which is paid off, mind you.
I went off the deep end, quick fast and in a hurry.
I'll spare you the gruesome details, but, eventually, the biggest reasons for me to feel so strongly about my truck being taken from me came out. Yes, I'm insecure and still believe my husband may leave me. The part that surprised me, though, was the part where I realized that I have nothing to plan for but a number of months without my spouse. Despite having put in for a referral for in vitro, they haven't so much as sent me paperwork to fill out, so I'm plenty aware they probably looked up my records in the computer system, realized I have chronic PTSD and scratched my name off the list. It's been months, and, well, they think it's alright to play God as long as they're doing it with someone who has no control over their conception without them. We can't start fostering or adopting while the other half prepares for deployment and then getting out- and while he's in college will probably be a pretty bad time to do it all, too. So, about five years from now, maybe we'll stand a chance. We called off the full ceremonial wedding because we didn't have the time and money to put into it and I was going through a med board and wouldn't be allowed to take leave to do it. We were planning on getting the actual ceremony done with family and friends this month. I don't know when I'll be out of the military, whether it will be before, during, or, God forbid, after he goes on deployment, so there's no way to plan for anything during that time frame, either.
I've taken up running to give myself something to focus on- we did another run last night, longer than the previous- but, really, I'm not sure what I'm doing all of this for. I have no goals that I can even plan for at this point, I'm not high-functioning enough to work once I'm out, and I don't even know how I'll manage to get through a deployment- what living condition, what state, what anything- without him around.
I feel like the ground has been pulled out from under me, and I'm just free-falling. Nothing I knew has proven real, not about myself, not about the world or people I trusted, and I'm really, really tired of fighting.

The Childless Mother

It's so difficult to watch my social networking sites and see women talk about the babies they already have and the ones they have on the way.
I'm tired of feeling sorry for myself, but, really, I want it to be my turn already. I want to adopt and/or foster.... but it's such a long process we can't evens start it until we're both out of the military and settled.
I am tired of waiting.

Run Like A Woman

I went running today for the first time in about a month, and, hormonally speaking, my timing sucked.
It lasted less than twenty minutes, I have been hacking like a three-pack-a-day smoker since, and I still feel quasi-nauseated. My dog, however, thought it was the greatest thing EVAR.
She usually does.
Anyway, am I happy it was so short-lived? Not a chance.
Am I proud of myself for doing it at all? DAMN SKIPPY.
I'm not the best or the fastest- I'm sure not the most disciplined. I still got off my butt, put on my running clothes, and did it, though.
It was short, but there wasn't a single harassing comment or gesture the whole time, and, having PTSD and anger issues, I can't tell you how much better it made me feel that, at noon on a Friday, a heavily-tattooed woman and her dog could go running down a busy road and not get any sort of negative crap for it.
That will make it much easier to do in the future, no doubt.

I've been doing a lot of emotional work lately. I've started focusing on what attitudes and behaviors I have that make me happy, and which ones make me uncomfortable. I'm reading the book Quiet: The Power Of Introverts In A World That Can't Stop Talking right now, and I have to say, not only do I like it, but I'm incredibly impressed and surprised by this book. I have never considered myself an introvert a day in my life, and this book made me realize that, while friendly, I'm not actually an extrovert. I had, originally, started reading this book because I was hoping to get a better understanding of my generally not-outgoing husband. It turns out, that, in some ways, he's actually more extroverted than me. There's a difference between shy and introverted, and I'm the latter, while I believe he's either the former or an ambivert- about half and half. Shyness is more of a discomfort dealing with people, while introversion is more about how you process things and what energizes you- time to yourself or time with people. I need my alone time, in a very real way. I can enjoy being around people, but, as a rule, I absolutely must have some quiet ALONE time when it's time to recharge. I think my husband actually likes being around people, though he's just not someone who talks a lot. I love him not despite that but because of it. I can talk to him about anything- and he does talk more to me than to anyone else that I know of- but we can also just sit in silence and be totally okay with that. He doesn't feel the need to comment on everything that's said or done around us, and I really like that about him.
All that being said, I'm slowly learning to realize that my habit of responding to everything said to me is just that- a habit. It's something that I've learned to do to show people I'm aware of their presence and I don't completely despise them. In reality, I'm far more comfortable just observing and processing things for a while, rather than pressuring myself to immediately respond to the stimuli. I can't tell you the difference this one little thing has made for my emotions. Giving myself permission to keep my mouth shut has helped me tremendously.
So, I'm sitting here quietly sipping my green tea and writing, and mentally preparing myself to go see some friends of ours (and their ADORABLE infant daughter!) tonight.
I'm getting there.

Save Me

Today is my daughter's almost-birthday.
It would have been her birthday if I hadn't miscarried her a few months into the pregnancy, when my fourteen year old body, riddled with drugs my mother forced me to take every day, which I didn't need, could no longer keep both itself and a child alive.
I still love her.
She would have been eleven today.

It's been a long day, and the new therapist at treatment is most assuredly the devil incarnate.

Fortunately, I bring my journal to treatment with me- well, one of my journals- and I get more therapy from that than this woman most days.
Today, I cried- just like the last two days. The husband and I are still happy together, but the PTSD, in a combined effort with the military, is making our lives a living hell. Between flashbacks, ab responses, nightmares, blackouts, and field exercises, when we're together, we're mostly struggling just to avoid hurting one another.

I made a decision this afternoon that I'll have to make again in the morning. I'm going running tomorrow morning. I'm not going JOGGING in the morning, I'm going RUNNING. I'm going to run down the street, with my dog, around the corner, to the light and back, and if we have to stop, we will, but I'm going to try really hard to just let loose tomorrow morning. I don't want this primal side of me to be caged anymore. I can't open up at treatment most of the time, now because I don't trust the therapist, but also because of the guy who admitted to being a sexual predator and the guy who won't talk about anything but his penis and sex life. Maybe if I push myself to the brink, if I stop being scared of feeling fear or anger and just feel it anyway, and RUN like my life depended on it, maybe then the tears and sweat and pain and weakness will have a place to go. Maybe if I open the floodgate, I won't have to prod anything to come out.

I need this.

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.

Talk

So, my husband spends a LOT of time at work lately.
He's been working for nearly two days straight, with about two hours early this morning at home. He finally came home this evening, and I tried my best to bring up what I'd learned about the BPD.
"Honey, do you know what borderline personality disorder is?"
"Yeah."
"How much do you know about it?"
"I mean, I've heard of it before."

....I didn't really know where to go from there. I gave up.
This man is my best friend, truly, but, it's frustrating to feel like you're talking to yourself sometimes. This isn't the first conversation that's fallen flat because his attention was elsewhere, but I personally feel like it's probably the most important. I just want to be able to tell him I know why I've been so crazy my whole life, I finally get it, and... I don't know. I know he would tell me it's great, and then he'd get distracted by something else, and I love him for who he is.
That sure doesn't mean he frustrates me any less, though.
He was tired today, he's going to help his friend move tomorrow, and Sunday we go bowling, and I'd REALLY like to go to church, finally.
And then it's Monday and back to the Monday-Friday only seeing each other long enough to figure out what we're doing for dinner and we don't even talk while we're eating anymore.
He knows I feel this way. I don't want to make him sound like a bad guy, he's not.
I just don't handle life well, I guess.

Goal!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

So, I've finally set a goal for myself, though the details are still being worked out. I am going to begin training to compete in a Warrior Dash [new window] competition. I think this is a great goal, ignoring the fact that I haven't determined date or place yet, because it's going to keep me focused on training for this, and getting in shape for this, as I am being processed out of the Army. It's too easy to give up on your health when you know you will no longer be held strictly accountable for it.  Now, I'm not saying I believe the Army has it all figured out as far as health and wellness go, but giving up on physical well-being are the first things to go when you get depressed and frustrated and, well, stop having to answer to anyone about it.
I'm already a vegetarian, but not a healthy one- I don't exercise lately, and I have been depending far too much on take out and "easy" food. I should be focusing on legumes, fruits and vegetables, not tater tots, pasta and Chinese food.
Anyway, tonight I used a recipe from an amazing recipe book that a friend of mine put together for my husband and I, and contacted a bunch of our friends and family for the recipes to add to the book. It's the most personal, loving cookbook I've ever seen. I made the "grilled corn and shrimp salad", and added orange bell pepper, red onion, a few extra spices and avocado to the mix. We had small bowls of white rice on the side and green tea to drink. Not only was it much healthier than most of the junk we've been eating, but it was REALLY good! My husband cleaned his plate- twice.
I am, however, really hoping my husband is as awesome as he usually is, and decides to do the dishes, because I am a VERY messy cook.

Forget

Today, I got angry.
I was angry the whole morning in fact.
I calmed down after an anxiety attack forced me to take a benzo chill pill.
I was proud of myself after that. I went to the office and to my fathers, just me and my service dog, without my husband, for the first time in months.
Then I got lost driving home. I tried to take the route I take every day. I still got lost. I couldn't remember/figure out where I was for about fifteen minutes. I got scared, angry, and cried. I eventually found I-10 and found my way back.
I cried after I got home, and apparently fell asleep doing so. I woke up a bit later, fed the husband and the dog.
I went into the closet to get something, something fell, and I got so angry I threw something- narrowly missing my husband.
I really hate who I am today. I don't know who I actually am anymore, because if your actions don't define who you are, what does? I'm not a good person anymore. I don't even want to look in the mirror. I try to dress nice, I try to force myself to do things for myself, but, really, if it's not doing something for my service dog or my husband, it really doesn't seem like there's a point anymore. I'm angry, anxious, and I keep causing more problems for myself and everybody else.
I don't want to be this person anymore.