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

Okay, looking sideways

I have always liked to think that I am open minded and look at things pretty well from many points of views. I can easily say that at 20 years old, I don’t look at the world from a 9 year old’s view.

After a rough day at the pharmacy, my family is great about try to help me chill out or relax. This time, it was my 9yo cousin. Such a sweet, sassy little woman who wanted to paint nails. I am NOT the type who wears nail polish because I know it will stay for maybe two days and then look like trash. But…. It made her happy and I wanted to relax with my family. Nail polish it was.

She was always interested in what had happened at work with me. Asking if there were any crazy or mean people. If I had sassed my boss that day. If I had made any stupid mistakes. A small way to gossip about my day and she enjoyed it as I vented.

“How long have you been dating Amante?” (If you haven’t caught on by now, this is what I call my sailor in my blog). She had asked. I had no idea why she was interested in my relationship, but I decided to humor the conversation. A nine year old couldn’t go very far with it, I figure. 

“Two years ish.” I smile, starting our second coat of paint on our nails. I hated that she decided I would wear pink polish. I was not a pink person. I was plain and liked blue or grey.

“Why hasn’t he proposed to you yet? Is he stupid or just slow?” She asked, not smiling as if it were a joke. I could feel my mouth drop. I was completely wrong. She took it farther than I expected.

“Well, it’s just not a good time for either of us.” I try to work my way around her. I know she’s smart and am now worried she will find a way to corner me.

“Why can’t you see him more? I like him.” She looked up at me sad, leaning against the bathroom wall as we sit on the floor.

“Because he is in the military. He has a job to do with them and it’s up to them when he can go places. And I like him too.” I smile back at her.

“That sucks. It’s fifty fifty. It’s good that he’s serving our country, but bad that they won’t let him go home much. It’s stupid. Still good he’s doing his job.” She went back to painting on glitter. Her nails looked like a total mess, but to a kid, they were beautiful. I would tell her the same and then try to help her a bit.

 

Talking and listening to a 9 year old, I realized that maybe I haven’t been as grateful as I can be. As I should be. I don’t want to cut myself down and feel guilty for not so far, but it is definitely a thought I’ve bee having lately.

I love him. I love my sailor as he’s back out on underway.

Hooyah

A real scary possibility

Just like how we all have nightmares, some come true. Some don’t.

I would hear how service members would come back home with PTSD and scream in the middle of the night, reaching for a gun to protect themselves from the memories that haunt them.

I have never encountered this before though.

Many times, have I talked to a shipmate of my man, listening to how he tries to ignore those dreams and memories. He had been deployed before and currently on this deployment with my guy. He refused to tell his wife, in fear that she would go to someone and report it. This sometimes forces these servicemembers out of the military. That was a fear of his. How did he keep it from her when they shared the same bed? He had gained enough control somehow to wake up silently. She never knew he never slept through the night. She still doesn’t.

“What if you come home with PTSD?” I had asked my sailor. I know it’s a real possibility. I wanted to know how he wanted me to handle it if it did come home.

“Just be with me, I guess. I think I’ll be fine.” Says every military member ever, including mine.

Trusting that no matter what happened, I knew we would be okay. We are always okay. We have honestly become dependent on each other emotionally and spiritually. We must be okay.

But only one phone call. A few words make that small fear and question come back to mind. What if he comes home with PTSD? What am I supposed to do to help him? I have never needed to ask myself this.

He laughed as he told me he saw the pilots from his ship blow up a suicide bomber go for one of the US’s tanks. Saying “He should’ve been faster”…. “It was like a movie”… “All the guys were cheering in the victory we had”….. “It was funny”.

Of watching something blow up, of killing people.

I have only been scared of him one other time. He was pissed. He was seriously angry out of the need to protect when I told him I had been abused as a child. His face over the camera turned to someone I barely knew and it was like he packed his emotions to the side to become a killer the military raised him to be someday. I told him I had to go and he was begging me to stay. I was scared and didn’t know how to deal with him angry. He has never gotten angry with me. Frustrated, of course, but never to the point I was afraid.

He wanted to murder the man who had hurt me as a child. I couldn’t blame him for his angry, I just didn’t know what to do with it.

But now, he’s laughing. He’s not angry or pissed or even upset. He’s simply amused by the death of a person that could’ve killed a ton of our warriors.

His shipmate said he was the same way on his deployment before returning home with PTSD and now he is mentally destroyed from it.

 

As a nursing student…. As a person who would die to save someone else…. As a person who has chosen to study to save and life people…. As someone who wants to go through pain and a long recovery to donate bone marrow….

This is a hard thing for me to accept.

I have accepted the distance. I have accepted the lack of communication. I have accepted not hearing his voice for months. I have accepted that I don’t know where he is or what he’s doing. I have accepted that I don’t know when he’s coming home. I have accepted a lot and am ready to accept a lot more in this life. I have accepted him and his world.

But this is something I struggle to accept. I don’t know how to accept it.

I know long story short, it’s continuing to give me and my family our freedom. But I am conflicted as to how to really feel. My job is going to save lives (or try) and his job is to take them in the name of our country.

We both knew what his job entailed. That the possibility of his bombs (“His babies”) would create damage. We never talked in-depth about it. He knew, I knew it would cause me to have conflictions. I won’t leave him for it. I love him. I couldn’t leave him.

I just don’t know what to think. Or expect when he comes home.

A Test Given

A patient came in asking about my navy necklace. I told them I was in love with a sailor and waiting for him to come home from deployment. He was about 35 ish and gave me a grin that women closer to his age would start to melt. I laughed and pointed at him, telling him I was taken and saw what he was doing. He gave me his ID that I need to sell him something, a military ID. He knew what he was looking for. He wanted to see if I was tempted to be unfaithful and I openly and even rudely laughed in his face. I could’ve gotten in trouble and he knew this too. He shook my hand and said thank you for being faithful to my brother who’s fighting. He went ahead and mocked his past actions and kissed my hand. I didn’t bother doing anything but rolling my eyes and laughing. He knew I wasn’t interested. He walked away and I smiled at the gesture and thought that he was happy by my faithfulness to my man. He didn’t know me. He grinned over his shoulder at me. I waved, shaking my head.

Closing the pharmacy, I rubbed the back of my neck and a younger man came up to me asking about pain relievers. I was tired and off the clock, but it was my job to help. I walked him back to the aisle. He smiled at me, most girls would fawn and blush but I pointed and told the man which was the most popular. He turned and started flirting with me. It was subtle but all girls would feel it and notice… he was smooth and he knew it. I excused myself, telling him I had shopping to do. He smiled, pullin out his wallet and showed me his ID. Military. He grinned wider, shook my hand and walked away towards the door.

i shrugged it off, having worked a fourteen hour shift and not giving a damn about anything but getting home and sleeping after a late dinner. I reached to the top shelf to grab something, knowing it was probably going to fall. A hand rested on my back, where my bare skin had shown. I turned and backed away, wide awake. A tall, dark man I would have to admit was fairly good looking handed me item, giving me a sinful smile. I felt naked and uncomfortable. He rested his hand down my arm and looked into my eyes. This was too much. I backed away from him. I looked at him and shook my head. I started to yell at him “I am taken don’t -“ he nodded, putting his hand out. The man from the medicine aisle came around the corner. The man I had helped and looked about 35 came around the corner. I looked at all of them and shook my head. I said “don’t touch me or I’ll scream”.

The man reached out his hand to me. I did not take his hand, I don’t care if he kissed it earlier. I felt like a target…. this man planned this and I didn’t feel like playing anymore. He said “we wanted to test how loyal you were to your sailor. I got two of the most attractive men I know that easily get women in their bed and wanted to test it. I knew you would pass, but I had a gift that I wanted to make sure you deserved since you love one of our own. You are under financial request within us three men can do for you, starting with your groceries.” The men pulled out their cards of who they were and their ranks were impressive. I had gained favor of military commanders for being loyal, for being rude and mean to prove my loyalty….. the other two men took my groceries and my list and left me with the older man.

I wish this were a dream, but I have three new contacts in my phone. I feel somewhat uncomfortable having them, my man thinks it’s amazing of how everything happened-that it’s funny. He knows I worry about money a lot even when I don’t need to. He’s pushed me to call the men everytime I go shopping. My bank account has grown in the last two weeks like crazy and I’m not sure what to do…..

Be loyal!!!!!

In Port

Depoyment, oh deployment.

Hurry up and wait can kiss my pearly white ass. Im tired of waiting but I love the man and will gladly do it for him. He has been working so hard and I am so proud of him. I also miss him it hurts deep in my gut.

i have been lucky to get emails daily and be able to stay in contact with his family. It makes me feel closer to him. Like the other day, I spent two hours on the phone with his mom until one am my time until she’s almost passed out. She is such a sweet woman.

Hes been in port twice now of being on deployment and he’s having a good time with deployment. Except people aren’t doing some of their working and he’s picking up their slack. He’s feeling some pressure and in all honesty, I’m not always sure how to help comfort him. There’s only so many ways you can say “you’re doing a good job and I’m proud of you and I’m sure it’ll get better and etc”…. I don’t know much else to say. I know the phone calls and care packages and being in port really brighten his spirits. I’m glad they come close together for him. Makes me sad for other sailors who may not have packages or letters. I wouldn’t know. I’ve asked my sailor for monthly lists of small things that sailors that don’t get things would like from Home so that would get things. I might as well try.

For the first time in months, I got to see him. It was but for a few seconds, but it was long enough for him to say he loved me. It made me so happy. He’s in port and his hair just cut and he still needs to shave, but he’s still handsome.

I love him!!!!

Hooyah

 

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.

 

Unreasonable, Maybe

As I’ve mentioned before, I have a goal. I have many goals, but one in particular that has come to me since my man has left for deployment.

“I’m going to look better than you when I come home.” The brat says. Okay then, I accept that challenge. I know he may not have meant it as a challenge, but I sure as hell took it as one.

I got a gym membership and changed my eating habits slightly. I have started taking the stairs at school. I hate doing this. I hate being “healthy”, even though I’m going into the medical field. BUT I must beat him at his challenge.

In the military, there are physical tests that each member must do. How often, I am not a 100% sure. I’ll get back to you on that. With these tests, the military has certain standards that the members have to meet. Every time my dude has done the test or a mock test, he’s hit the excellent mark. I’m proud. Now, looking at my goal… I’m nervous, but still proud.

I have looked at the male 20-24 standards of the Navy and decided that I will base my workout and everything else on that. I will win this competition. I have already gotten May’s status on his numbers and know where I need to get as of now.  I know he is busy and will be tired, but will try to make time to exercise nonetheless.

I know I probably shouldn’t weigh myself every week, as that might make me down on myself, but I do. I have lost some weight, yay me. As of the last two weeks however, I have stayed the same. Exactly the same. While at the gym though, I am beginning to be able to push myself harder with heavier weights and for a longer amount of time. It takes more for me to be sore, so I add more on and then I feel like crap and can barely walk or lift my arms. I just tell myself over and over again that I will beat his numbers when he comes home.

I just hope that I can. I know it is probably an unrealistic goal. I am going to try anyways. Wish me luck you guys.