Home, Not Home, Home

I get the feeling the military loves fucking with SO’s emotions or our mental health.

I’m pretty sure they get a kick out of it.

Wonder if they’d like a kick in the balls. Sounds like a good idea to me. Mhmm, a really good idea to me.

So, everyone that’s read some or all of my whiny, personal blog knows that my sailor had recently gotten home. Back in December. It is now…. March. Forgive me. I actually had to look.

Here back in late Jan, my wonderful man came and visited me. Had an amazing time. My family got to truly meet him and they like him. We spent too much money in Barnes & Nobles. Had a good time.

Back to the current month. March, what a wonderful month. St. Patrick’s Day, an excuse to pinch people and not get hit in return. Parades around the city just for the Irish holiday. The month that shows that spring is coming.

Unless you’re in the military. Then they will send you off again. You don’t get parades if you’re in the military. Spring doesn’t matter to your captain. There are no seasons on your nuclear carrier. Only weapons of mass destruction. Pinching people lead to fights regardless of the Irish tradition of the homeland. Remember, you’re in the military. Those things don’t apply to you anymore.

He had only gotten home a few months ago and now getting ready to leave again on another deployment. It will be months of underways before he leaves again, but a deployment nonetheless.

I read in a book once that out of a four year active contract, a married couple will see each other a total of MAYBE 1/10 to 1/7 of the contract time. Sounds about right to me. Amante has a year and a half left. After the deployment, he’ll be done. That’s five years of contracted work.  I’ve seen him three times. I haven’t done the math, I don’t want to out of the possibility of becoming depressed. But I know it’s low.

 

The military gives and takes.

So love what you get.

I love him.

Hooyah

Maybe a taboo topic?

So, in my last post, I had said that I was busy with school and work. Lord is that true. Beyond true and TRUST ME I will tell you about it. I love talking. If my followers and random clickers didn’t catch on.

But….

There’s more.

Recently, I had admitted myself to an inpatient hospital. I am now diagnosed with depression and anxiety (both clinical). I am now on what is called an SSRI, known as Prozac to many people. I have been dealing with anxiety for my whole life, it seems, but I didn’t think it was this bad.

Panicking at work over the smallest mistake, dwelling on it hours after it had happened or even after I had clocked out.  Replaying the work day to see what I could’ve done better and cursing myself for not doing it in the first place.

School was a whole other level of darkness for me. School is a passion. The thing I live for and know I need for my goal, but… I struggled to believe I was smart enough. Good enough. I struggled to believe I would be accepted into a nursing program. I struggled to believe I would ever get the degree I’ve wanted since I was 13.

I know bringing this up in a relationship blog would probably invoke the question of if he brought on some of the anxiety of stress too. He had asked too.

It’s not him. It could never be him. It’s the hard hits of loneliness that I have talked about before that add to the struggle. I hate to tell him that, but I know he relates to a point.

I hated going to the hospital. It felt like a defeat in itself. I kept thinking I should be strong enough to handle my own shit. But I couldn’t anymore. I needed help. Whatever it took, I needed help.

 

I wanted to write about my mental illness because it is sometimes seen as a taboo in society. BUT in my world, the SO’s world… it’s unspoken torture we help each other with or just by ourselves. The pressure to be seen as strong, patient women (or men) makes it hard to talk about the already estranged topic.

 

If you need help or want to talk to someone, the site I suggest it called seven cups of tea.

https://www.7cups.com/member/

A very good site to talk to a random person. No one has to know you, you can be anonymous if you want. It is super helpful. If you need further help, there are therapists on there as well.

Hey Guys, I’m back

I am so sorry for not updating and writing lately.

I have been starting a new semester and working more. I have just started getting a little more time and I’ll be able to write more.

I love coming back and seeing how many more followers I have and votes on my other posts. I really appreciate it.

 

Alright, so being a SO! Still a good life.

Today was a bit hard though. I woke up and I was wanting so much to wake up next to him. I wanted so bad to have to wake up in the middle of the night and shove him so I can have room on the bed too. I wanted so bad to wake up and his hand running through my hair, him calling me beautiful. I miss him. I crave him. I crave his love and kisses.

It was only last month that he was here on leave, but it was still too long ago. I got to have him for a whole week. The time before was only two and a half days. I am so lucky for this time. So lucky.

I want to be greedy though. I laugh at the comment in my head, but it’s true. I know a lot of other SOs can probably nod and say they understand. Followed by a heavy sigh, right? Yup, that’s how that small internal conversation goes.

He also got to meet all of my family in this city. It was… interesting as his quiet self was being questioned and being around a bunch of loud people of my blood. It was great though.

Marriage was talked again when he was here. The same night I found out he was set for another deployment. Talk about a broken heart. Being strong in this life is sometimes hard. Sometimes it’s impossible. This was one of those times it was beyond impossible. He just got home from deployment. I just got him back.

FUCK YOU NAVY!!!!

They are always taking him. It wasn’t until I had to say “See ya later” that I realized how much I hated airplanes. Not fear, hate. Absolute anger, resentment and pure hate. Airplanes were the machinery that took him from me. And maybe that’s stupid to be angry about….. But in my opinion, it’s probably better to be angry at a stupid airplane than the thing mi Amante (my lover) has vowed his life to.

But hey….

What’s love? Choosing to be with someone through all the shit and flowers.

I love him. I choose all his shit and flowers. I just prefer the flowers in his life.

Outside the usual issue

I have a sister. I love her, but our past is rough.

It’s come to my attention that she has a new man while not being on birth control and this makes me want to shit myself. I had to off-handedly raise my mentally ill mother and sister after we (my sister and myself) were sexually abused as children. My sister never stepped out to try and pull herself together after this ordeal. Going to court trails for years made me into a different person.

My sister used it as an excuse to give up and to justify her bad and negative behavior.

Back to the thought…. If my sister gets pregnant….

That child won’t be safe or well in whatever “home” my sister 50/50 tries to give it.

 

I have decided that if she gets pregnant, I will be going to court for custody. I will not let that child be hurt the way my sister hurt me (physically and emotional). I want to give that kid better than the small social security check. I can provide with the job I have that she’s never had. I want the best for this child. I pray to God that she is infertile. I wish no harm to my sister, I just can’t wish her something that will cause another human being to be hurt either.

I haven’t brought this up with my sailor. From our former and recent conversations, he wants to wait til after my degree for kids. I get that, but I won’t let that kid be harmed. I’ll do it by myself (with the help of other family) if I have to.

 

 

Not My Place

Death was our first big conversation if you remember or had read my other posts… well, it will be coming up again soon and I am terrified. His great grandma is so close to deaths door and I don’t know what I am supposed to do. As his girl, I know I am here to help him through this and support his family, but it is a hard thing to do. He’s deployed in a completely different part of the world and his family is in a different state. I’m not sure what all my words can do to comfort. I feel that they will mean close to nothing. I love his family and know how crushing this will be. I hate watching already what it does to his mother, I am super close to her. He does not yet how close she is to passing and I am terrified for when he finds out. I want to call the chaplain after it happens to make sure they check up on him, but I don’t want to give him unwanted attention.

I don’t know what I’m supposed to do. I’ve never been in this position before.

His mom updates me often on his great grandmas health and I can tell it is right around the corner if not today. His mom seems so strong, but I can tell she is scared and fights tears a lot. Her husband is really supportive for which I am grateful. Her husband is a good man, but I wish I were there for the family too.

My sailor should know what’s going on completely with his great grandma…. but it’s not my place.

Maybe Next Time

Well, so far, deployment is going okay. My anxiety with life is high and I don’t know what I’m always going to do. I’ve been staying and that helps a lot. Writing this and reading a  lot of books and working more shifts definitely keeps me so busy that I’m sometimes too tired to be worried about anything. I know this also isn’t a good thing though. It will probably end up with me burning out sooner or later. But after doing this for about a month so far, I haven’t. I think I’m doing better. I feel better. I feel like I’m managing my emotions and etc much better.

But the thing that made my weekend was when he pulled into port and I got a text and picture of him smiling so big at me. I hadn’t seen his smile in a new picture in months. I woke up to that and I honestly squealed and just looked. This made my heart race. A schoolgirl all over again.

We texted until four in the morning (my time) and just talked about random things. Things about the past. About when he visited. About what we would have to do together in the future. About our families. About work on both ends. About a lot. This made me happy, I am happy.

Until I woke up one day three that I thought he would be able to talk.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry I had to leave. I’m sorry we didn’t talk more. I’m sorry that we didn’t get the chance to video chat. I’m sorry that I had to leave you. I promise I’ll come home to you. I’m sorry. I love you. I’m sorry.”

Waking up to that both made my heart grow for the man and broke it at the same time. I know he would come to me. I know he didn’t like leaving for the job, I didn’t like it either, but I had learned to quietly gain the strength to push past that.

Going in to work today, I fought to stay numb until I could really smile. I fought to stay numb until I had a conversation that had me distracted enough to not think about it. I am grateful for the time I had to talk with him while he was in port. I am grateful that I got new pictures.

I am also greedy and want him more than I got.

Until next time.

Yes, next time.

 

Our Real World

Work was really good today. I had fun. My coworkers and I got a lot of work done today and may have been able to nick some stuff off of tomorrows work. We all worked with awesome, classic rock music. We all didn’t mind humming along and still running around to get the job done. We made phone calls and took care of our customers. We did really good today.

The store gave all the workers free food. I took some and had to leave to go back to work. I am not allowed to eat on the floor but wanted that cookie. A vendor nearby had the same color shirt I was wearing and I walked up next to him. I asked plain and simple if I could use him to hide from the store owners. He laughed and was my watch out. I had never seen the guy before and wasn’t near him for more than three minutes. He did a good job, I finished my cookie without getting in trouble.

It was a good day.

Went shopping for the coming week, ya know. Got some breakfast food. I got some bacon! I got random things. Got ready to go catch the bus to go home. Got on. I was warm. No one talked to me. I had all my things gathered and I was ready to go.

But the bus wasn’t moving. Something was wrong.

A guy a seat ahead of me and the other side was rummaging through his bag and a girl behind me was crying, her hand covering her mouth. I honestly didn’t get what was going on at first. The bus driver didn’t get out from behind his bullet-proof door attached to his seat and then used the intercom.

“Weapons are illegal on this form of transportation. You need to get off or the police will be here to escort you off.”

Seeing the flash of the handgun into his bag as he started screaming, I thought of all the things I wouldn’t get to do with my family. How I didn’t get the chance to tell them I loved them an hour ago. How I didn’t get to really go swimming this summer and get a stupid sunburn because I stupidly didn’t put enough sunscreen on. I thought about my boyfriend. He writes me an email almost every day and expects one back. I wouldn’t be able to and he would probably hear from his mother. I thought about his mom and how close we have gotten.

In the past week, there have been five more shootings. I didn’t want to be apart of those numbers. Please God, don’t make me that number. I started praying, tears rolling down my face. I don’t want to die.

The fight continued until the man got off.

I made it home and I am safe. All of this happened and the thing taught me something very sad. My boyfriend is out there, somewhere only God knows, to save us from the bad guys. YET we have no regrets being the bad guys to each other. This scares me almost more than knowing what my sailor does.

I was once told by a shipmate of my man’s…. “we are safer being deployed than you are as a civilian on the streets these days”. I brushed it off until today.

 

 

PLEASE STOP THE HATE AND LOWER THOSE NUMBERS

WHATEVER IT IS THAT MAKES YOU OR YOUR FRIEND WANT TO DO THIS, PLEASE DON’T. PLEASE STOP AND THINK ABOUT FAMILY, YOURS AND EVERYONE ELSES. 

PLEASE HELP BE THE CHANGE EVERYONE TALKS ABOUT.