…for myself, of course, since OPSEC prevents me from providing the general public with a time line of my husband’s deployment schedule. But it has started, and I’ve made it back to my home state.
I want to apologize for my lack of writing for the past couple of weeks, as we prepared for deployment, spent time packing, time together, and time with family, and then my journey back home, I haven’t had too much time to sit down and write much of anything.
But the week leading up to deployment was absolutely crazy. For the most part, I thought I was holding up relatively well. Especially considering my tendency towards anxiety. Then, as our parents were helping us pack our apartment, and while my husband was at work (thankfully, he wasn’t around to witness) I had a breakdown. The day started out well, I knew the task ahead of me, then I was faced with having to re-decide what, among the items I had packed or set aside to come home, that I now had to place in our storage container. And I had thought and re-thought those items a few times, so I didn’t know what to do, then all the emotions I had been pushing aside overcame me, and I bawled, and realized, again, as this was becoming more real, just how much I was going to miss my husband. Then I had some good days, and some bad days, too. There were a couple consecutive days that I was so emotionally erratic, that I couldn’t really look my family in the eyes, because I knew I wouldn’t be able to control myself, and I didn’t want to lose composure in front of my husband. On the second day, after my husband left for work, and we were all sitting in a hotel room, I knew I wasn’t going to make it much longer without crying, screaming, or doing anything else irrational. So, I excused myself, kept my eyes on the floor, made it down to our hotel room, and lost it. Thankfully, the pillow caught my sobs and screams, but the day was fast approaching, and I didn’t know what to do anymore. I wanted my husband, that’s all I knew.
I do want to say, that this lifestyle, isn’t always easy. I’ve been taking care of myself, as much as I could, for most of my life – I’ve had wonderful parents, but I’ve always wanted to do my own thing, and be independent. But, there are times that I just want to stop, and be the one who’s being taken care of. And as a Military Wife, you can’t. Because while you ARE married, and while your spouse will do what he or she CAN to take care of you, they can’t do everything for you, because they deploy. And then who’s going to take care of you? You have to be able to take care of yourself. And some days, that’s really hard, when that’s all you have. Like moving home. I love my parents, and I know they would do anything for me, but I do not want to burden them with the chore of unpacking all of my stuff. That isn’t their responsibility. I am an adult, I need to do these things. But I also am so emotionally and physically exhausted, I just look at all of my boxes and bags and totes, and don’t really want to touch them. But I also do not want to live out of bags anymore, since we did that at the hotel before my husband deployed. So I shoulder all of the responsibility. [I realize that somehow, “responsibility” is a really tough word for me to type out, I always get it wrong.]
But, I think I am doing OK. I have some moments that I get sad when I think about my husband, and our memories, and how he’s not here. And I accept that. I don’t want to be a victim. But I am also really happy that he IS my husband, and I cannot wait until he returns home, safely, to me. I know I need to not only be strong for myself (because this could be a really miserable year if I just mope around and make myself the victim), but I also have to be strong for my husband, so he doesn’t have to worry about me every day.
I like to think that not all of his time over there is going to be miserable, that he’ll be able to, hopefully, have some good times with the guys and what not. And I want him to enjoy what he can, have fun when he can, so his year or so isn’t miserable, either. Just because we have to be apart doesn’t mean either of us have to be miserable with the situation we are in. And no, I am NOT suggesting that either of us find “enjoyment” elsewhere, if you catch my meaning. But the simple things that bring us joy. We’ll miss each other, terribly at times, but we’ll pick up where we left off when he returns.
I am incredibly optimistic about things, which surprises me. For as much anxiety as I had for fear of my husband being killed overseas, and the anxiety of being apart, I’m looking forward to his return with extreme enthusiasm. Just to be able to hug him again, have his arms around me, to kiss him…would mean more than the world to me. But for now, I have to settle for hearing his voice on the phone…which I eagerly await every day, just in case he gets to use the phone.
So, with deployment still new for me, this is where I sit today.