Life goes on…

{ December 11, 2010 @ 9:49 pm } · { army, deployment, Government, Iraq, military, military wife, politics, PTSD, Soldier, war }
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…And this is how it happens: one step, one day at a time.  You walk one step at a time (forward,  preferrably) and you eventually find yourself looking back realizing how far you’ve made it after thinking you’d make it nowhere at all.  You see new markers, new moments…and the old ones are there, too.  But they are more distant with each step, a little more removed.  The pain is a little less sharp.  The fear is a little less frightening.  And here you are:  not back there in the past, not yet to the all the places you want to go either.  But you’re here.  And you’re making it even when you didn’t realize you were.

I have many dreams.  Some big, some small.  Some realistic, some fantastical.  But they’re mine and it’s nice to know that I give myself the power to realize them one at a time until my time runs out.  I don’t have to rely on anyone but me…I never should have in the first place.  And I can admit very freely how scary it is and even how lonely, but it is also empowering. 

When things sort of fell apart with my marriage, I was so scared.  I had never felt so afraid or hurt or unstable.  And I looked ahead thinking there would be no way I could walk forward.  But it also awakened me to myself.  What I knew was that I had given up alot of “me” to be able to be a military wife.  Getting ahead in my education and finding myself in a career was next to impossible just due to the all the relocations and deployments.  And I honestly did that proudly.  Until the day it seemed that my sacrifices over the years no longer mattered to him.  And then I was ready to get ME back…to chase after things I wanted for myself that I had let run away.

Today, I looked back down that road I’ve been walking all along to see in that near distance what the past year and a half have brought.  A tough year of self-realization, of contemplation, of returning to school, etc.  And when I turned back around to evaluate where I stand today, I see this person I’m learning to love and appreciate again.  A mother, a friend, a warm heart, a NURSE (official on Monday!), a strong woman…I see ME.  And good, bad, or indifferent, this is how my life is going on.

Remembering When, Wondering Why…

{ November 27, 2010 @ 3:13 pm } · { army, deployment, Government, Iraq, military, military wife, politics, PTSD, soldier, Soldier, war }
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It’s two days past Thanksgiving–a day that was difficult in many ways for me.  It was my first holiday spent without my daughter and realizing that, now with all the changes, I would spend probably many more in that same fashion, I felt crushed.  I spent Thanksgiving without any of my family, in fact.  And even though I am thankful for the friends who shared their day with me, it felt more like a day I was trying to survive rather than enjoy.  And I did, I survived.

It’s all just hitting home to me.  Everything that has led me to this point is swimming violent circles around my head.  It’s strange to have so many contradictory emotions run through at once, to feel so hopeless and yet so eager for the future.  I’ve been seeing snapshots of past life for days and I’ve been spending hours trying to gather in my head how I will proceed on to start this new life on my own. 

I guess it’s the fact that not every picture that I recall is  bad.  We had some very special and happy times.  And we had some very dark and devastating ones.  Sorting and filing them into a way that allows me to walk on…that’s what I’m trying to do now.  Reviewing the good and bad is like looking at two completely different lives and it’s hard to believe that they somehow fit together as part of my life story.  I think of the day my daughter was born…the moment, in fact, and how heavenly my life was the moment they put her in my arms and he and I cried together out of joy for this miracle we weren’t sure we’d ever have.  And then I think of that day I learned of his last crucial mistake, his last bad decision and how sick I was of letting PTSD be an excuse any more that would tear me apart any longer.  I remember how hurt and angry and confused and ugly and stuck I felt that day…and how I knew things would never be the same after that.  And they weren’t.  They never will be.

How did we get here?  How did we end up so far past “home” that it’s not even home anymore?    What is this all for?  Did that stupid war accomplish anything that says that the way it ruined my life is worth it?  Do people realize how many of those who served their country gave their lives for it and yet still walk our streets?  Does the government even care about families like mine or stories like ours?  Who answers for any of this?  Who stops it?  What justifies it?

Holding on to letting go…

{ November 15, 2010 @ 9:25 pm } · { army, deployment, Government, Iraq, military, military wife, politics, PTSD, Soldier, war }
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It’s been a long week.  Period.  Not unbearable, but exhausting.  This rollercoaster is starting to make me feel dizzy…

Shawn and I have been “separated” for almost six months now.  We haven’t been together in 14 months…  And the ups and downs and twists and turns are relentless and becoming more painful for both of us, I think.  Trying to completely let go is difficult.  And maybe down right impossible when you have children.  But it’s starting to feel like a new kind of never-ending hell and as much as I want us to be friends and incredible parents together, I also think I can’t take any more of the same discussions where we try and figure out everything and get nowhere.  He can’t tell me exactly why he pulled away from me when he did or why my efforts were fruitless for him.  And I can’t tell him why now that he’s willing to try, I can’t do it anymore.

Seven years.  Seven years is why. I didn’t quit or give up.  I gave seven years of “trying.”  The last three were extremely difficult and by the end of it, I was broken.  Nobody gets that…or wants to.  They didn’t know or didn’t want to know what was happening.  Even when I went to family and told them how bad his PTSD had gotten, they seemed to skim past it in disbelief.  And I felt so alone trying to fight a giant much bigger and stronger than me.  He’d become so bitter with life, so negative and easily enraged.  He was miserable to be anywhere, miserable to be nowhere, and he started drinking just to tolerate being at home after work…just to tolerate anything.  His whole life as he knew it was forever changed by what he had to go through overseas.  And the changes became too much.  For both of us, just too much.

He once told me that war had taken everything he’d ever thought he’d known or believed or been taught about life and turned it upside down.  That it stole the innocence and the good from him.  It took his religion.  It made everything a lie.  I didn’t know how to contend with that.  I understood it.  And I mourned it, to be honest. But I couldn’t possibly know how to combat that for him.  And I tried in any way that I could for him.  I stayed sometimes when I didn’t want to…when he scared me…because I wanted to be his savior.  The reality was then, and is now, that you can’t be a savior.  You can be a friend.  You can be devoted and committed.  You can be a listener and you can give advice. You can love them and support them, but you can’t be a savior to anyone. 

In the end, people have to choose to save themselves, even if that means accepting help.  And they have to know that in the time it takes them to make that choice, life continues and change occurs as naturally and as dependably as day becomes night.  Timing matters.  If he’d made the choice two years ago to ask for help, to see that I was there fighting for him and for us.  Instead it’s two years later and day has become night many times over and my fight and energy for it are gone.  Yes, I’m changed.  I’ve felt the failure and the hurt and the disappointment and the loneliness.  And I’m changed–but no more than anyone else would be had they have walked a mile for me, or even with me.  Despite the change,  I’ll always care for him and hope for him and be there to support him.  But, I can’t help the changes either–no more than he can help what’s happened to him.  And I guess I need everyone to try and understand that and just climb off of me for a minute.  And maybe, someone could just support me without judging me and know how hard it is to let go.  But know that I think I have to let go…

What the military did for us and PTSD…

{ November 7, 2010 @ 10:31 pm } · { army, deployment, Government, Iraq, military, military wife, politics, PTSD, Soldier }
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It took a lot of years of symptoms and denial and change and hurt before I finally convinced my husband to seek treatment.  Honestly, I think I forced him to go.  I couldn’t deal with it anymore and it was now apparent that there was nothing more I could do to help him.  Now I was being torn apart by it…and my family as well.

So off to see mental health for him.  But first…

It’s a joke, you know.  They say they “screen” these guys when they redeploy homeward for PTSD or related issues.  But honestly, there are no checks and balances and there is no way to make these guys actually answer any of those questions truthfully when they know it’s only going to delay them longer and affect their home return.  So first off, this is where the systems and the programs begin to fail.  And then, they give all the spouses pamphlets and have meetings about what to expect after their homecoming, warning signs of PTSD, etc.  And while I guess it did help me recognize the early signs, it didn’t help him at all.  No matter how much I knew about PTSD, I’d never know it like he did and nothing I recognized or said made any difference.  And he refused to acknowledge it for fear of what that ‘label’ even meant for him as a career soldier. He refuses still today. I don’t think I blame him either.

Our experiences with this disorder accumulated over about 6 years before he knew he HAD to go talk to someone.  And when he did, I was disappointed with how unaggressive they were in actually addressing the problem.  They wouldn’t even officially daignose him.  They were quick, however, to send him home with medications–masks, if you will–with “plans” to have him talk to a psychologist later.  It never happened. He’d return and the psychiatrist would just give him more meds.  You’re depressed and anxious?  Have some Xanax and Prozac.  You can’t sleep?  Add some Ambien.  And honestly, I think this was just making it worse.  To just blanket these deeply seeded problems chemically without finding the root and pulling it out of him…I don’t get it.  It seems so simple a principle: to get rid of the weed, you must take it by the root.

And it angers me.  Not just for us, but for everyone who has received this part of the “program.”  If anything, they’re just handing these guys the chemical weapon to destroy themselves further with addiction and drug dependence, and even equipping them with serious means to end their life if they feel they can’t take it anymore.  It’s happened.  A lot. To people we know, in fact.  Yeah, to people we know… For one, SPC Joseph Dwyer.  He was a friend of Shawn’s in OIF I.  They saw and did some crazy things in that drive to Baghdad.  And on June 28, 2008 due to PTSD, he overdosed. 

So what did they do for us? NOTHING. They did nothing…except add us to the statistics of what happens to military families and marriages after combat.  Thanks guys.  Appreciate it.

You know what…

{ November 6, 2010 @ 7:29 pm } · { army, deployment, Iraq, military, military wife, PTSD, soldier }
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…I had the pleasure of talking with someone the other day about some of my experiences and about how frustrated I am regarding the way PTSD is NOT being handled–and this person inspired me probably more than they realize.  And it’s that inspiration that leads me to say this: “Screw it!”  It was weak and cowardly of me to think of stopping writing here. And it was judgemental and harsh for anyone to ridicule me for my thoughts and feelings on experiences that they have not had and do not understand.  A blog is like an invitation to enter someone’s thoughts…an invitation that no one is required to accept.  That being said…

You know, you’ll never please everyone.  In fact, some days you won’t please anyone.  But defeat is an awful thing to lie down for.  Just because someone didn’t like what you had to say doesn’t mean it wasn’t valid for any number of reasons.  #1: This blog helps ME.  It’s hard to verbalize things sometimes.  And I write for me… And I so chose to post my journaling because… #2: This blog can be a help to others who are battling the same things and sharing the same experiences… and now, #3: This blog may help raise awareness about combat-related PTSD.  People need to understand not only what it is and what it’s doing to our soldiers and their families, but they also need to understand how poorly the programs that are there to “help” are being implemented. 

No one will ever understand the gravity of this disorder if there isn’t at least one who is willing to put an honest face on it, who is willing to speak up about the quality of treatment options being offered by government/military programs. 

So, I re-enter myself here with a disclaimer:

This blog is of a personal nature. It’s content will be as vivid as the reality it speaks of.  It will discuss topics and issues from a personal perspective that no reader is being forced to agree or contend with.  While it is not the writer’s intention to offend, she will not edit a blog of true life encounters to please those who are easily offended or shallow-minded, as this would affect the entire premise of the blog. If this be the case, it is recommended that you not read it, as you are not being  coerced to do so.  In that, any disgruntlement you feel from this point is not to be blamed on the writer, but on yourself as the reader for continuing to read on.

More to come and thank you to those who have showed genuine support…

Final post…

{ October 21, 2010 @ 1:11 am } · { army, deployment, Iraq, military, military wife, PTSD, Soldier, soldier }
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I’ve become aware that my intentions with this blog have been severely misunderstood…and it’s sad, but I’ll be saying goodbye.  To my readers who “got it,” thank you.  I never intended to hurt or offend anyone and my apologies are sincere to those who received it that way.  I think to some degree, journaling my perspective helped me to get through a rough day.  But also, after talking to many military spouses/members, they felt that the home perspective was pertinent.  Sometimes we go through difficult things alone because we’re afraid to talk about them…we won’t lean on the support when it’s there or we won’t seek for it when it’s not.  The truth isn’t always pretty or easy and it can be skewed by perspective.  I realize I told my side, but that was the point. 

I hate PTSD. Period. For so many reasons…but mostly for how it needlessly destroys people and families.  I’m not a perfect person or wife, but the truth is, PTSD ruined us. Not him, not me, but those stupid 4 letters that haunt so many.  Too many can’t or won’t talk about it, they don’t get the help they need, and it slowly tears them apart.  I felt that maybe just talking about it may help others to be able to speak about it and, not to cure it, but to at least seek help before it consumed their lives the way it did ours.  Maybe if people understood the gravity of it and the overwhelming occurance…that’s what I thought.  And now I say, “No wonder…”  No wonder this is how it is…

The response and judgement that came at me has just made it clear to me why this is a tragedy for so many soldiers and their families.  But, I have to clarify…I’m not angry now and wasn’t ever angry at him for being affected.  I don’t blame him…I can’t imagine and am heartbroken over what it was like for him to see and experience what he did.  I became frustrated that I couldn’t help him when I was his ‘other half,’ his best friend, his wife.  And it over the years changed him completely.  The happy, spiritual, easy-going man I married became almost atheist, miserable, and angry.  And I know he didn’t want that or mean for it to become that way…but as a result, actions were taken that were hurtful and hard to recover from.  I spoke to reach out.  It doesn’t matter if you can’t believe that.  I was reaching out for us and to everyone going through what we were. 

You all have both my gratitude and apologies.  And I wish you all the very best.

God Bless, Sheli

The Reality…the PTSD.

{ October 5, 2010 @ 4:09 pm } · { army, deployment, Iraq, military, military wife, PTSD, soldier }
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It’s funny how you can be so oblivious sometimes–how you can have lived with something so long and not ever really see or acknowledge it. And then it hits you.  Like a ton of bricks, hits you.  And suddenly you are buried beneath your own reality, trying to figure out where it came from and how on earth you will ever dig yourself out of it…

That’s what this last year and half especially has been like.  Wait…reality…its been longer.  But that’s when the bricks fell, when everything I thought up to that moment came crashing down on top of me and I was left trying to decide the next move, to sort the options, and to come to terms with what I’d tried so hard to ignore. That’s when PTSD would no longer be background noise I was desperately trying to drown out.  It came screaming and with force, refusing to be ignored any longer.

The funny thing is, I didn’t think I’d ignored what was going on with my husband.  From the first deployment I’d educated myself on PTSD–what it looked like, how to deal with it, what to expect.  So when its first signs were revealed I perked up and tuned in a bit.  I made myself available, gave him the freedom to talk about anything whenever he needed to, didn’t force him to talk about anything he didn’t want to, never judged or feared what he said about what he’d seen or done.  When his ‘triggers’ came, I stayed calm with him, reassured him, stayed by him.  Loud noises, public places, fast drivers, sirens–all were recognizable triggers.  And then his nightmares started.  The first time I became aware of them, I wasn’t even conscious.  I was sleeping next to him, seperated to my side of the bed like married people do…and then I woke up to what seemed like a sudden strike of lightening, with the flash and everything, followed by a throbbing pain in the whole side of my face and with shock, I jumped up confused.  It was the first time he hit me in the middle of one of his night rages.  He came to and found me sitting up holding my face, a bit frightened.  When he realized what had happened he couldn’t stop apologizing. He told me he’d been dreaming and I told him I was okay, to go back to sleep.  I wasn’t angry or upset.  Just worried. And over the next couple of years, it happened more.  I never got mad.  When he offered to sleep in another room, I refused.  I wanted him to know I was going to be there no matter what.  And I was…

…And this was the beginning.

Fast Forward…

{ October 4, 2010 @ 5:05 pm } · { deployment, Iraq, military wife, Soldier }
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It’s been a while since I’ve visited my own blog–try 2+ years.  I’m reminiscent and heartsick reading my own posts as if they weren’t really my own.  Those words below are familiar, but they’re painful and somehow barely mine anymore…a stabbing reminder of how blinded I was being.  I left out alot of stories in there–stories that would’ve painted a less beautiful but more true picture of how my life as a military wife was.  Yes, was.

So not now, but soon, I plan to maybe catch up on the last few years of what life and military has been like…and clarify what it used to be.  It’s time people really understood some things…

Preparing for a brief return…

{ June 18, 2008 @ 11:27 pm } · { deployment, homecoming, Iraq, military wife, Soldier }
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Sorry, it’s been a while since my last post, but staying busy to curb my anxiety has been priority latetly.  We are about 2 weeks from seeing Shawn for the first time since Christmas as he prepares for his 2 weeks of R&R from Iraq.  It’s so exciting and scary and if I don’t keep every minute accounted for, I get a little tense.  Every reunion is incredible.  But it’s also hard to explain the tiny bit of fear you have when it’s your first meeting in months.  So many things happen, so many changes occur around you and inside of you.  You never truly know if either of you are the same and if either of you will be relate to the other anymore.  Not that we’ve had a terrible time with that, but the fear still presents itself.

And, there’s also that not so kind thought of goodbye lurking around.  R&R is a blessing and curse because it’s such a short-lived trip followed by yet another dreadful departure and seperation.  You get so excited for the time to come, and then it’s over so quickly and you always feel you’ve blinked past your time together and not really reacquainted.

Nonetheless, I’m beside myself at the thought of being held again, to have his arm around me, his hand on mine, and his face close enough to touch.  It’s odd to think of having such a personal interaction when you’ve gone so long without it.  The protective shell that has built itself around me over the last several months is about to be cracked apart and it’s oddly uncomfortable and exciting.  Having to be so independent and then allowing yourself to be vulnerable to someone again is maybe one of the toughest parts of military marriages.  You work so hard to be able to deal with living alone and then dread the day you become exceedingly good at it.  But, the good news is, we’ve been successful at all of this thus far.  And we survive our deployments on prayer.  I firmly believe that fact alone makes our transitions smooth and his trips safe.

Meanwhile, Kaeli and I took a 10 day vacation to California with my family.  It was a wonderful way to kill time and Kaeli has yet to lose her awe over her Sea World experience.  We had a wonderful trip despite a few minor setbacks, but I of course found myself depressed and lonely without Shawn there to share that experience.  It was Kaeli’s first real vacation, and we celebrated our 9 year anniversary while we there–that made it a little bittersweet.  Those situations bring me back to the reality of how much I need him and want him here.  Because, no matter how much I’ve adjusted to him not being here, I can’t adjust to him really being gone either.  The more people I’m around, the lonelier I feel.  And no experience is thorough while he is gone.  I miss him so much.  And I miss me, too….because I have to be someone that isn’t necessarily myself in order to make it through these prolonged seperations.  Though it will only be a few days, it will be nice to feel like I “fit” somewhere again. 

 

 

Blessings of Motherhood…

{ May 9, 2008 @ 11:37 pm } · { military wife, parenting }
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Being a mom isn’t always easy….and certainly not always what you dreamed it to be. Sometimes, it’s better.

You never really know what to expect as a first time mom.  But rest assured, whatever you pictured in your head is nothing at all what it is.  And yet, it’s everything you pictured.  When I found out we were having a girl, I immediately imagined this teeny little thing with little blonde ringlets, like me.  I imagined a quiet child..much like how I and her father were as children.  And here she came, 9lbs and 2ozs, head full of thick, dark hair.  And fiesty from day one.  She’s been completely unexpected and such a blessing.  I envisioned alot of quiet moments where I would hold my newborn and just gaze at her…birds singing, gentle sun shining…. And then there was colic.  Needless to say, i learned quickly how hard it was to be a mother…a good one, anyway.  I developed patience I’d never known, energy despite sleepless nights, and a truly unconditional love I never knew I was capable of.    And as much I as I try teach her, she’s taught me more already at 2 and a half.  I’ve become stronger and resiliant and patient.   And i love it.

Since there was a time when I believed i couldn’t be a mommy, I feel even more blessed.  And I’m never disappointed when things aren’t how I pictured….because she didn’t come from a cookie-cutter mold…she’s this little person who is taking her own exciting paths, who is discovering things her own way, who lets me walk beside her when she does.

To all the mother’s who are waiting to be showered on Mother’s Day….STOP!  This is your day to realize how blessed you are to have the opportunity you’ve had.  To be thankful and contemplative.  You’ve already been so blessed!  The thing of motherhood encompasses every trial and triumph..every tantrum, every fit of laughter.  All those days you smelled of sweat and spit-up….those were the best days of your life!  Because hard as they were, you became someone better….you became a mommy!

HAPPY MOTHER’S DAY!!  To those who were there once, who are here now, who will be there tomorrow, who long to be there….

 

This is what proud looks like…

{ April 12, 2008 @ 11:32 pm } · { deployment, Iraq, military wife, Soldier }
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I’ve been getting so many emails in response to this blog and my husband’s blog site here, all positive.  It’s been a blessing to hear from so many people who are either being gracious for our service or understanding because their going through the same things. 

Regardless of the hardships, it is truly our honor to do what we do and I’m so very proud of my husband.  He has been deployed so much, and he has managed to maintain himself so well.  Sometimes I actually doubt him when he tells me he’s okay….it could be a day where there have been numerous attacks, and he’s seems completely unaffected.  I don’t know how he does that.  I’ve seen so many soldiers and their families who have been so affected by their deployment experiences, not that it’s wrong and not to discount any of them, but sometimes the danger they were exposed to was much less and the outcomes when they come home are so much more.  I’ve seen divorce, substance abuse, behavioral disorders, etc.  But not here.  It’s just more proof that this is what he is supposed to do.  He’s somehow built for this job.  And though at times, I don’t know if I fit the mold, I learn more everyday that I’m more capable than I’ve given myself credit.  We have been blessed with the ability to utilize these seperations as time to actually grow closer, as odd as that sounds.  And so much of that comes in the pride we have in this thing we do.  Now, politics have nothing to do with it.  Because whether or not we agree politically, this is an obligation we have to fulfill.  If they say he goes, he goes. Period.  And understanding that is important.  There is a greater motive behind him and it is, I assure you, pure.  He truly loves his country and his family…and doing this, he is able to take care of both. 

Thanks so much to all of your kind comments and emails!  And Shawn, thank you!  I’m so proud of you!

 

The things we don’t say…

{ April 5, 2008 @ 10:54 pm } · { Uncategorized }
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Being a military wife is sometimes alot like being the any other kind of wife…sometimes.  But sometimes, the thoughts and emotions that run through you are anything but ordinary, especially when your soldier is planted in the middle of a war zone.

In it’s totality so far, this deployment has been largely different in the level of danger Shawn has been exposed to.  Just when I began to allow myself to feel secure about that, then things went a little crazy and I have experienced things that are familiar, yet distant to me.  I almost never talk about it–maybe it’s because I don’t want to sound crazy, or because I’m ashamed, or it makes me feel weak.  I don’t really know.  But when the word “incoming” reintroduced itself into our deployment vocabulary, I once again worry intensively…between every phone call, every night before I go to sleep.  I think there has been so many Hollywood versions of the story…but this nightmare has come back to me…

…We’re at home, going about our daily routines, and there’s a knock at the door I didn’t expect.  I round the corner to the door and look up to see a strange man in his pressed dress uniform…and my heart stops.  Literally, i feel like I can’t breathe.  I fight to find strength to open the door, and his eyes meet mine with an apologetic glance…and he clears his throat to verify I’m Mrs. Riley…wife of Sgt. Shawn Riley…and then he begins to deliver a message that we all fear.  Honestly, in my dream, no matter how many times I’ve had it, I don’t remember any words that come out of his mouth.  My dream always ends as my legs give out from beneath me and I fall to my knees…there are no sounds, the room spins around me faster and faster….my heart begins to race…I can’t breathe…

And each time, i wake up at that point.  And I pray.  That’s the worst fear of any military wife I’ve ever talked to.  And it’s the one thing none of us want to talk about, as aforementioned above.  I literally can’t sleep if Shawn was supposed to call and didn’t.  And that vision comes back the same as every time before.  No matter how “good” a day Shawn may have over there, I don’t feel exempt.  In fact, Shawn and i both have talked about how, if anything, odds were against us.  He’s been over there so much and we’ve been so fortunate thus far, even though we’ve had close calls.  Not that luck has anything to do with it, but has ours ran out?

These are things we have a hard time saying….because we can’t ever find the right words to make anyone “outside” understand.  But, I don’t want to tell people i worry.  I don’t want them to know the vivid images that reoccur in my mind.  But sometimes, i wish they could just understand….so that if i wanted  to talk about it, I wouldn’t fear the judgement and I wouldn’t fall short of expectations.  Sometimes, for no reason, this worry sneaks up on me and I try hard to act “normal,” but I know they see I’m not myself.  And instead of trying to explain that I’m scared to death, I  leave it as is.  And I’m sure alot of people now think I’m just “turned funny” or something.  I’ve probably pushed some people away because of that.  Somehow, it seems like if I explain, then it just seems like I’m looking for sympathy or attention.  It’s just hard to be normal right now, I guess.  This deployment is old news now for most people, but it has no less effect on us no matter how much time goes by.  in fact, in ways, the easier it gets, the harder it gets.

At first, you struggle to be able to rearrange your life and get used to the changes and the new dynamics of being a single parent and the lone spouse.  And when you finally do resituate, you fight with yourself…you feel guilty for being so comfortable without them here.  And it makes you afraid that when they come back, you won’t be the same.  Trying to balance it all…adjusting, but not too much…going about your life, but with hesitation…

I’m very thankful to have a faith that i can rely on, but that doesn’t always erase these feelings.  My faith can always bring me back down, but it doesn’t keep me from worrying.  Everything I know about my life today sits in Iraq.  And I’m here, waiting…and praying that it comes back to me.

 

Spring is in the air…and other things…

{ March 26, 2008 @ 11:26 am } · { deployment, Iraq, military wife, parenting, Soldier }
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It’s been a VERY long month around here….slowly things are looking up,though.  And it looks like we may find a sense of normalcy once again soon.  My sister-in-law leaves next week for rehab, so the kids will be going back to their dad.  It was hard to imagine making it through their extended stay sometimes, but we have all done well and taking it one day at a time has been the best strategy.  Not that I haven’t been frustrated and tired and even angry at times, but we’ve made it.  And now, I only hope the best for them as they go back home into what I pray is a proper environment for them.

We’ve also acquired another new family member since my last post.  Her name is Bella and she is a 6 week old boxer.  We’ve had her about 6 days now and Kaeli really loves her new puppy.  The only problem is that I have slept nearly not at all, as this tiny little creature can produce alot of noise at night.  My job at night has been to try and keep it minimal so as to not wake all the children, who wake up on their own throughout the night anyway.  Wheww!  I’m exhausted!  I haven’t been this tired since Kaeli was newborn with colic (and Shawn was deployed then, too).  Hopefully progress will speed along!

Many things going on with Shawn.  First, what started to be an unusually uneventful deployment has started to change as attacks on the Green Zone in which he resides has picked up.  He sounds largely unaffected and unafraid by the excitement, but my nerves have shown up in response and I find myself stressing out in between his phone calls again waiting to know that he’s okay.  Also, it turns he will get to come home for 2 weeks of R&R after all…we’re very excited to see him in July!  I know it will be hard to have to say bye again, but Kaeli has cried for her Daddy alot lately and I think it will help her to see him so much more than it will hurt her to see him go again–and he’ll only have three more months after that until this whole thing is finished.  I think by now Kaeli knows he’ll come back, or she’s starting to.  But coping in between is difficult.  The more she talks, the more she is able to emote–she’s starting saying that she wants Daddy home…she wants to hold Daddy….she wants Daddy to come to Kaeli and Momma’s house, etc.  The last week has been especially difficult for her for whatever reason and I’ve had to hold her to console her crying spells two of the last three days. 

All in all, I don’t know if it’s just that Spring is peaking through at us, but I’ve found my spirits higher despite being sick and literally exhausted.  I think it is a season of renewal in a lot of ways, it has been for me anyway.  I always find myself feeling lighter and refreshed when the cold weather subsides, the grass turns green, and the bountiful pollen tickles my allergies. 

Keep on keeping on…

{ March 4, 2008 @ 9:26 pm } · { Uncategorized }
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Well, it’s been a week officially now since I’ve had my niece and nephew.  In some ways, things have improved.  And in others, I’m gaining on frustration.

Our daily routine is becoming a bit more of a smoother operation, i.e., the kids are adjusting to having a structured day and conforming to it all a bit better.  Their mother will be in rehab for a year, but has a 30 day wait that hasn’t started until she secures her reservation at the facility she’ll be going to.  The state will allow the kids to go back to their dad once she is gone, which I’m not sure if that is a blessing or a curse–maybe both.  While I’m exhausted, and in severe need of some alone time, I also can’t shake some feeling of guilt that they may again, be in an environment that is less than they deserve, but that isn’t up to me.

The frustration comes from so many places.  Feeling trapped behind a family who feels that I, the “in-law”, should be the one who takes all responsibility right now is bothering me a bit.  That I should have to cancel all my plans, that I don’t need a break because I’m not working (HA, this is the hardest I’ve worked in my life), that their rest is more important, their plans are more important, and frankly, let me just say it, that her kids are more important than mine.  Kaeli has sacrificed her fair position as a granchild since day one because of my sister-in-law.  Because everyone is so exhausted catering to her and put so much into her and her kids because of her failure to do things herself.  By the time there is time for Kaeli, no one feels like it.  And now, Kaeli is sacrificing her space, her things, her life at home as she knew it, and her mommy (not to mention her daddy who was already gone on deployment).  I’m so spread thin in the day…I can’t have that one-on-one time with her and take her places.  Does anyone realize that we were kind of in the middle of our own circumstances here?  Lately, I just feel regret for ever even moving back home.  It hasn’t made much of a difference..we thought that Kaeli would get the same treatment and attention as her cousins and wanted that for her.  We wanted to be around family and invisioned them trying just as hard to be a part of our lives as we tried to be a part of theirs.  And now, we’re just caught up in the middle of this drama, taken for granted even still, and doing the same things that everyone has always done that made us mad—taking care of “her” responsibilites when she won’t, in every form.

I DO love these kids and I DO feel it’s important that they be given a good life.   And I don’t think I’d feel so bitter about it if I felt some willingness from other family to take some of the slack.  There’s always this hesitation, this undertone that is clearly understood whenever they’re asked to help.  And sometimes, it just comes out forthright. 

I guess I just find myself looking even more forward to Shawn coming home and now, the possibility of getting away again.  We were much happier when we were too far away to be sucked into the middle of everything.  And knowing that our expectations for what we’d have for Kaeli here were unrealistic just makes us want to take her and show the world on our own, instead of feeling stuck amongst people who didn’t turn out to give a care, instead of waiting on someone to want to be this kind of relationship in her life, and in ours.  I guess that knowledge is power….and sometimes knowing too much is just overwhelming.  I think we’re feeling ready to get away and regain the oblivous advantages of distance.

Meanwhile, we just have to drive forward through all of this and hope every single day that I’m doing justice somehow.  And please understand, I just find this as a format to vent, I guess…and say things here that I can’t quite say out loud…to think collectively and put it all together.  I know it sounds negative…and to clarify, I do still understand very much how important these kids are and how helpless they are about it.  If I didn’t realize that, I wouldn’t be doing any of this.

How could you….

{ February 28, 2008 @ 10:30 pm } · { Uncategorized }
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…look into the innocent and adoring eyes of your own child and turn around and choose yourself over them?

I’m just disgusted and sad that it happens,but it does…everyday…and in my own family.

I’ve have gone from being the wife of a deployed soldier and temporary single mom to a two year old, to all of that plus the temporary single mom to two more precious children who were neglected by their own mother for DRUGS!  I’m so mad at her!  Because of what she’s done to her kids, because of what she’s put her family through, because of the impact it’s having on my family, because of her stupid selfishness.  I could NEVER do that to my child—choose myself over her.  And I’m so sick of hearing the excuses for her and so sick of her screaming victim and everyone just bending over backwards to take care of her.  You know…this isn’t the first time by far….and every time everyone has virtually stopped their own lives to rescue her, yet again…and she repays them with not one cent of graciousness or appreciation….she repays us with repetition and expectations to do it over and over again.

Well, those babies are safe and loved here and I’ll try inspite of my health, in spite of my exhaustion, in spite of her to show them what life should be like for a child.  I don’t understand why people like that can have endless numbers of children, and there are so many childless mothers out there who would pretty much die to have their own child.  The most undeserving, most selfish people get this blessing that they don’t even acknowledge.

Maybe the most upsetting to me is how I’m expected to do all of this at perhaps the worst time–with Shawn being gone and dealing with my own child’s separation anxieties, with my current health situations, etc.  And I’m expected to do it by the same people who aren’t even willing to help me out, much less do it themselves.  It’s just more than maddening.    I wish that I could be superwoman right now, but nobody is ever.  I have only asked for a bit of help and familial support and you’d think I’d asked for something much more complicated.  And now, the future of these kids lay on my shoulders alone.  If there’s guilt to be had about the tiniest feeling of not being able to handle of all this right now, it’s been given to me.

I hate to even say any of that, because I know that as rough as it is for us, it’s much harder on those kids, who have had no say in any of this and certainly don’t deserve to be mistreated and tossed around.  I simply don’t want to cheat them any more than they’ve already been cheated by taking on too much.  I’m torn whether or not my feelings or decisions about any of this are justified or adequate and it’s eating me alive.  I’m praying so hard that God give me insight on what I’m supposed to do here, and that I have the umph to do it, whatever “it” is.

“Daddy, come back”

{ February 23, 2008 @ 12:47 am } · { deployment, Iraq, military wife, parenting, Soldier }
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It’s such an exciting time when your child first begins to speak–they open their mouth and out flies something to amaze you, and you wonder sometimes where or how they could’ve learned it, but they did.  And then, the better they get, the more expressive they become.  Finally, you begin to understand this little being as a person.  And it’s nothing short of a blessing…

Kaeli crawled up on my lap last night, handed me my cell phone (which I never even saw her grab), and said, “Momma, call Daddy.”  After explaining that was impossible, she insisted again.  I couldn’t help it.  I picked up the laptop and logged onto Skype, and even though I knew he wouldn’t be there, I “called” him.  Of course, nothing.  But I wanted her to see I tried.

Her face just turned pitiful and I could see her shoulders slump heavy with sadness.  Her eyebrows pulled down, her lip pouted out, and her chest big with anxiety….”Daddy, come back?”  I tried not to let that stinkin’ tear slip out, but there it was. “Kaeli, Daddy will come back.  He’s at work with the Army again today, but he’ll come home.  He can’t wait to play with you and give you big hugs and kisses…OK?” 

She looked up at me with big, sad eyes and paused with slight hesitation. She didn’t want to agree, but finally…”Okay, Momma.  Okay.”  She grabbed my arm and wrapped it around her and laid her little head against me.  “Daddy, come  back.”

“Mommy misses Daddy, too, Kaeli.”

“Miss Daddy.”

And we just held each other.

Iraq, Schm-Iraq…

{ February 19, 2008 @ 10:33 pm } · { deployment, Iraq, military wife, parenting, Soldier }
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Well, Shawn’s been in the Mid-east for about a month now…(is that all?)  I’m so relieved (and hopefully, not ignorantly so) that this tour for him is so much safer and relaxed.  I don’t know if I could handle one of those phone calls where you hear booms and gunfire in the background, followed by the most terrifying silence.  (Yes, it’s happened).  I was much more worried BEFORE he got there this time, I guess in anticipation of it being like the times he’s been before, and scared that maybe our luck had run out and odds were against us.  I wasn’t sure how many more miracles I could deserve in my life–I’m definitely over quota already!  But, Thank you, LORD!

Now, all I have to worry about is….well, those Angelina Jolie’s. HA!

Kaeli and I are having a good ole time together…aside from the potty training, which is relentless.  She’s SO stubborn!  Just when I think I’ve found a new miracle solution, she turns her nose up at it and gains new levels of defiance.  Oh well.  We’ll just keep trying.  Anyway, she’s just at such an exciting age…I just wish i could slow it down.  She’s growing up so fast you can see it in a very literal sense. Everyday. 

Anyway, not a very exciting post, but an update nonetheless. :)

It was the Year Without a Valentine….

{ February 14, 2008 @ 11:16 am } · { Uncategorized }
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Yeah, so here is yet another holiday I’m going to spend alone.  Granted, it’s Valentine’s Day…not Christmas, or anything.  but still.  Another holiday where Shawn and I should be enjoying each other and in some, at least, small way making it special for each other.  Although Shawn has never been a flowers kind of guy (even though I actually DO enjoy that kind of thing, he will not relent), we would still at least enjoy a nice restaurant.  And, we would be together.

Not this time.  I’m trying to decide if I want to take Kaeli out and celebrate a different love today or if I want to hide at home and avoid subjecting myself to all the buzz of this day…all the couples out…..all the gifting…blah, blah, blah.  But, I seriously need to buy groceries.  Blah.  I’ll probaby just go buy my own flowers.  No, maybe I’ll get some for Kaeli,

Addendum:  Shawn called and didn’t even seem to realize it was Valentine’s day.  Nice. 

Well, he made it…

{ February 3, 2008 @ 10:27 pm } · { Uncategorized }
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Shawn called me today to tell me he made it to Baghdad.  I almost think he’s relieved…just to finally be doing what he’s gone to do.  And I have already experienced less frequent contact with him over the last few days, but I’m feeling optimistic at least.  Some days I just feel consumed with anxiety and worry, but there’s always a balancing act going on which thankfully means I have days of peace and optimism regarding my stamina and ability to handle all of this.  I find confidence in myself at the weirdest times, when I’m at my weakest usually…I can bounce back because I know that we’ve done this before and everything turned out fine. I’m a veteran at this deployment thing, ya know?  And I’m so lucky to be in a marriage that isn’t faultered by our many lengthy seperations.  I think if anything, it just makes us closer.

Not much else going on here though…I’ll see my doctor this week to begin some referral processes that I should’ve done a long time ago.  I’m just that mom that lets herself go sometimes because I have other priorities…but I’ve finally become annoyed enough with pain in my bones, pins and needles in my limbs, headaches, womanly issues, and blood pressure problems.  Hopefully we can get somewhere quickly with this before I lose interest and patience and just let it go again.  I’ve tried for months to ignore it and I haven’t talked about it, but yeah… That’s the only excitement going on. 

I enjoyed my parents this weekend…my dad came and did some built-ins in Kaeli’s room and it was nice to have activity buzzing around here.  Kaeli was just so excited to have someone here.  Gosh, she’s growing up TOO fast!  Everyday she talks better and exerts more personality than the day before.  She seriously makes me laugh out loud on a daily basis and I’ve settled into this wonderful blessing of stay-at-home parenthood.  This is the most important job I’ll ever have, and I want so badly to raise her right. 

Today is the day….

{ January 22, 2008 @ 3:23 pm } · { deployment, Iraq, military wife, parenting, Soldier }
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I obviously knew this day was coming…and even still, it makes me nervous.  Shawn has been gone since October (even longer considering all the training he did before that), but the fact that he is going to do the “real” thing now kind of has my stomach in knots.  Though we’ve missed him intensely, we’ve been spoiled with a certain security and we’ve not worried about his well-being, or his life.  And we’ve grown accustomed to only a one hour time zone difference.  Now here we go with the middle of the night phone calls that may or may not have a decent enough connection to actually have a conversation, the echo of your own voice with an annoying time delay, static, etc.  I’m suddenly rememering it all from times before and the soaking in the reality of what we’re in the middle of is here. 

Last night I just had that thought, “I wish this were over…I want him to come home…”

And yet even though we’ve felt his absence for a while, somehow this feels like we’re just now getting started.  That‘s kind of an exhausting realization.  Kaeli is beginning to express herself and is letting me know that she misses her daddy.  And those sleepless nights are back for her [and me].  She seems to be having nightmares and Lord knows about what because she can’t really tell me, but I wonder if it has anything to do with all of this.

I know that God is sufficient and that we will make it through this and like every time before, we will have found ourselves somehow better for it…having found new strength and endurance, having learned a deeper love and respect for each other as we cope with our seperations and the hardships that come with that.  I know that God has delivered Shawn from that place before and I just pray it is His will to do it again.

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