did i say that out loud???

Just a warning right from the start - this post might piss a lot of people off.  That is NOT my intention, however, human nature being what it is, I know that it is a likely result.

My intention in sharing this is actually twofold - I need to get some negative crap off my chest, and I want to bring awareness to the struggle that so many other spouses like me are going through RIGHT NOW.  Maybe you know one, and maybe you'll approach her differently after you read this (?)  Or maybe you'll just sit down and write me a nasty email for being honest.

So, you know that scene in Jerry Maguire, where he basically has a nervous breakdown & then a manic episode, during which he writes his mission statement (the title is something like, 'the things we think but do not say') and he makes sure that EVERYONE in his company gets a copy........then he wakes up, realizes that he wants to take back EVERY WORD, and then realizes it is too late?  Yeah, THAT moment.  Have you ever felt like that?  I have a feeling I will feel that way within about 15 seconds after I click "PUBLISH POST" but I am posting this anyway, knowing that it actually NEEDS to be said.  My integrity won't let me delete this post for the sake of being politically correct, or for the sake of looking like the dutiful, obedient mil-spouse I am supposed to be.

FUCK THAT.  Oh yeah, sorry, language advisory. *AHEM*

Anyway, the thought that has sprung into my head at least a couple of times in the past 14 months, the one that will probably make you want to slap me, is one that I really can't SPEAK OUT LOUD.  I'm actually shaking as I type this, because even putting it out in the blogosphere is so very taboo.  The horrible thought is this little tiny voice in the back of my head, that I can barely hear over the wails of despair over a particularly rough day/night/week dealing with my (invisibly)wounded hubby.....the voice is mine, and whispers, "why couldn't he have just DIED over there?"

Before you rush off to write me hate mail for saying this, please read the rest of this post!

I absolutely do NOT wish that my hubby was dead!  Nor do the other thousands of women who are the primary caregiver/support to a wounded warrior - whether his wounds are visible or not, treatable or not. These men return home but are no longer themselves, and we, their wives, girlfriends, or mothers, take on the daunting task of helping them figure out WHO they are now, and how that new man fits into society, into our families, into our LIVES.

In my case, my hubby has refused to get help for what I am now certain is PTSD.  Some days I would swear he is bi-polar, other days schizophrenic, other days BOTH.....and some days, very very rarely, I would say he is HIMSELF, the same man who left here in May 2010, kissing my pregnant belly goodbye.  Those rare 'good days' are such a gift, but at the same time they leave me hurting SO MUCH MORE.  Those days are part of what makes me subconsciously 'jealous' of the brave war widows I know.  Not really jealous, but I can't come up with a better word.  You see, a widow has to endure an entire life without ever seeing her love again.  She KNOWS he is gone, and is never coming back.  She can grieve publicly and privately, and move forward with whatever new life she's able to make for herself.  She gets to cherish the memories of her hero as she last saw him.....maybe he even kissed HER pregnant belly goodbye.

For me, the random glimpses of my husband's old self - his REAL self, are just such a merciless tease.  Those moments make me think that maybe he really IS coming back to me, completely whole.  And when he slips farther away from me, having a terrifying blowup, or meltdown, or just plain shutting down altogether, I GRIEVE all over again.  Hate me for saying this if you must, but emotionally, it is as though he has DIED several times just in the past six months.  Every time, I go through the cycles of grief all alone, in private, and if I get to that lowest of low points and hear that little voice whispering 'why didn't he just DIE over there'....then I go through days, weeks, or even months of GUILT just for having that thought.

Again, it's not that I WANT him dead, but when this burden becomes so heavy, I secretly steal a glance at one of my amazing widow friends (you know who you are!) and wish I could trade my load for hers.

Any wife of a Wounded Warrior will admit to having this very thought at least ONCE.  If she denies it, she is either lying, or hasn't walked this road far enough yet.....she'll get there, I promise.


The important thing, of course, is when we DO get there, when we hit our emotional rock bottom, we have to learn to BOUNCE.  And I think the first step is to talk about what 'rock bottom' actually looks like, feels like, and sounds like.  Even if it is just a little whisper that we don't want to acknowledge, much less say OUT LOUD.

more running to stand still

I've been trying to sit down and blog for the past few days, but just don't know what to say.  I even missed Amber's music linkup for the first time EVER. This week has just sucked SO BAD.  I posted earlier in the week about some of the struggles we're dealing with as a family, but can't even really put into words what I'm actually going through right now.

Bonehead came home yesterday, but has been a complete jerk since he got here.  I feel like I'm bending over backward to please everyone and all it gets me is kicked in the teeth.  I seriously think that I will soon be the mother of a HIGH SCHOOL DROPOUT.  Sad thing is, this kid is such a genius! He's throwing so much away right now.  I did make it clear to him that I am on his side, and that is exactly WHY his last day to live here will be Nov 24 (his 18th birthday).  Seems I'm good at kicking people out, huh? :(

Speaking of which, I finally talked to my hubby for a few minutes on the phone yesterday - first contact we've had since I asked him to leave last Monday following his meltdown.  He is still very angry about pretty much everything, mostly just mad at ME at the moment for making him go.  It's not like he left me any choice, the way he blew up here!  I'm a little bit scared that he'll blow up like that at work, where he carries a gun.....the consequences could be SO MUCH WORSE than just having to go stay with his grandmother for awhile.  Not scared enough to actually call his supervisors to warn them or anything, but still it's a little nagging worry in the back of my mind.  I'm also a little scared that he will retaliate financially against me & the kids - you know, stop paying the mortgage, etc. I have a new job starting this week, but it will basically only be enough to feed us & that's it - I can't pay any of the other household expenses with the little bit of money I'll be making.  And, when I look at this honestly, I am still scared that he could come back here to confront me, try to force his way into the house, etc, and this time really hurt someone.  If I was not physically afraid of him, I would not have asked him to leave to begin with.

I keep waiting for him to call and actually APOLOGIZE to me.  Not a weak, "I'm sorry your feelings were hurt" kind of thing, but a true, "I'm sorry, can you forgive me?" kind of thing.  Maybe with flowers, I guess, I don't know.  But he's not anywhere near even recognizing how far he went this time, and even if he does recognize that he crossed a line, he won't admit that to anyone else.

I reach for my phone several times a day to call or text him, but I always manage to talk myself out of it, knowing he really needs some time and some space to figure things out right now.  It is SO HARD for me to just leave it be....but I know in my heart that I HAVE TO leave it, for now at least.  So I keep busy instead, and by the time I even have TIME to call or text him, it's well past bedtime.  He turns his phone off when he goes to bed, so at least that normally keeps me from acting on the urge to at least CHECK on him.  Last night after a glass (or 3) of wine, I finally did send him a sappy text about how I will always love him, even if it has to be from a distance.  He didn't even get the text until late this morning, and of course now that I am sober I'm kicking myself for sending it.

MUST. RESIST. TEMPTATION.

:/

This is one of the hardest things I have ever done, but now I have to look at this as though I am the parent and Hubby is the child here (because psychologically, he kind of IS....or at least is acting like a child!)  If I give in and let him come home WITHOUT getting help, he'll never get help.  On top of that, he'll never take me seriously again, which would then be setting me up for a lifetime of abuse.  I CAN'T live that way, and I sure as hell don't want my boys to grow up seeing that example of how to treat a woman!  I put my foot down, and now I have to stand by my word.....he can NOT come home until he has gotten some help - at least counseling, preferably coupled with some pysch meds.  The meds part is not a deal breaker for me, but I know he could be so much more functional/content/HAPPY with a llittle chemical help right now.

*sigh* Well, off to do a little more running nowhere - literally this time, on a treadmill.  Then I'll run around and stay busy the rest of the day so I won't follow up that text with a 'please come home' text.  I really do miss him, but even when he is HERE, he's not really himself anyway - not since Afghanistan.  I want my REAL hubby back!  The one I would never have needed to be AFRAID of.  The one who used to laugh and play and LIVE his life.  OUR life, together.   I'm pretty sure THAT man is never coming back, and the grief over that is overwhelming.

prayer request

I don't usually do this, but am asking you all to please say a prayer for my family tonight.  Last week my teenager, AKA "Bonehead" ran away - he is safe at a friend's house for now, but needs to come home and handle things here......he's risking throwing away his last opportunity to graduate this year, and therefore losing his best opportunity to get into the military.

On top of the teenager issues, my marriage is in trouble, AND my hubby is struggling with more mental health issues (which he STILL has not gotten help for).... this morning he lost his temper to the point that he got physical.  No one was hurt, but he scared the crap out of all of us.  I had to ask him to leave.  It breaks my heart to be the one who is 'kicking him out' when he so clearly needs a LOT of love and patience right now, but I can't risk him hurting me or the kids in a blind rage.  I'm seriously hoping and praying that this will be the final straw for him, the one thing that will MAKE him go and get help.

He has gone to a few counseling sessions in the past year, but I know he is not being honest with the therapist - so how is she supposed to help him?  He's been referred to a psychiatrist, and WOW, if anyone needs psych meds right now, it's my husband - but he "doesn't have time" to go see the psychiatrist. I pray that he will now MAKE time, and will take his mental health as seriously as he's always taken his physical health.

I truly hate to air our dirty laundry here like this, but you already all know how much we've struggled with his mental health issues (and MINE) since he returned from deployment 14 months ago.  The 'reintegration' ugliness is mostly over, but if he doesn't find a way to heal his mind, it won't matter.

Please, just say a prayer for peace and health for my whole family.

THANKS.

That did not go well.

Finally had a confrontation with hubby about this insanity and.....

He's leaving.

I hope he gets some help (I start therapy for me next week).

I hope I can welcome him home with open arms if/when he's ready to come back.

But, in all honesty:


More than anything I am so fucking RELIEVED that I don't have to pretend any more!

I feel like such a fucking failure right now, but at least now I am not a FAKE failure. Now I can be the genuine article.

No bullshit.

another goodbye

This morning's good-bye was bittersweet. I was so emotionally exhausted from trying to deal with hubby's moodswings all weekend (after missing him terribly for 3 straight weeks) that I was kind of relieved to see him go, so I can 'rest'. But knowing that he will be gone all week this week made me really want to hold on to Mr. PMS for a moment longer.

I love him and miss him, and I am so nervous about this deployment. Will either of us be able to stay reasonably stable this time? Will the re-inegration this time SUCK as bad as the first two? If this past weekend is any indication of our current ability to 'deal', we are freaking DOOMED.

All day today I have been somewhere between laughing and crying (pregnancy hormones are not helping this at all). I feel so much more CRAZY than I did just last week. Is this my life now? Measuring new levels of my own insanity to check for 'progress'?

Marriage is hard, marriage to a Marine is even harder, and deployment just plain SUCKS.

Days ending in Y

I've told my husband on the phone many times that I only miss him on days ending in Y. Which of course is everyday - Including yesterday and today....

BUT NOT TOMORROW, because he will be home tomorrow!

YAY!

The past 3 weeks has been so hard for me - I think deployments are kind of like childbirth; we forget just how bad the pain is once we get to the reward at the end (otherwise we would NEVER do it again!) So, it's been almost 2 years since I last had to experience anything quite so painful as this recent absence - and this was just 3 weeks of training! Not sure how I will get through the actual deployment, which is now just weeks away.

Maybe some Lamaze breathing? ha ha ha

I'm just grateful to know that, in two years, this pain will be a distant memory.

And I am grateful that 'tomorrow' ends in a W.

training (torture before the torture)

I'm floored that when hubby leaves for 'pre-deployment training' it feels like he is already 6000 miles away. I guess this is sort of supposed to 'train' the family to deal with his absence, but in smaller doses?

Currently we are 2 weeks into a 3 weeks separation, and all the pain, loneliness, etc. that I tried to forget from the first couple deployments is BACK. I hate this.

I think the hardest part about this is that I feel like I can't really TALK to him about how I feel, even though we do 'talk' at least every couple of days right now. If I say "I miss you" he gets all defensive and apologetic, like I am ATTACKING him, blaming him for being gone (well I kinda do resent him for being gone, especially with the pregnancy and all, but that's not what a MEAN when I tell him I miss him).

And if I break down and cry, or even sound melancholy at all, he gets all worried about what's going on at home, and then I know he is not focusing on what he needs to be doing there, and he doesn't sleep as well, etc.

So I pretend everything's fine, I tell him about cool things the kids are doing, what happened at my last OB appointment, etc. and I tell him I love him, I'm proud of him, etc.

Then I hang up the phone and cry myself to sleep.