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.

Motherly Advice

His mom.

Let me start with the fact that I love this woman and sometimes my sailor believes with all his heart that she likes me more than him. He jokes that I have replaced him with his mother.

I love being able to call her at six in the morning and even though she’s still working on her first cup of coffee, she is still happy to hear from me. Or ten at night, exhausted from the day and still smiles when my number pops up on her screen.

This time though, I lettttt her savor her coffee and called at seven thirty. I missed her voice and happy sound. She lives a few states away from me.

Having her pick up the phone, I prepare myself for whatever reply I get about my situation. I wanted to talk to her about my sister. She sounded happy to hear from me.

Finishing telling her what was going on and the possibility of a change in future plans, she sighed and gave me a decent reply. One that gave me comfort and support, but I knew she was a little worried too.

My man (her son), didn’t know where he stood on supporting or liking the idea. He was hesitant to even talk further of it, but tried talking me out of doing it since I haven’t finished school yet. He was smart and trying to think about our future. Which I find adorable, but this is a big deal. I prayed and prayed that he would support me, be there for me. I don’t want his money, just kind and encouraging words.

Telling all her this and how we had both agreed to wait on children of our own, I could imagine her dancing inside from hearing her son wanted to have kids. She had brought it up with me before and I pushed her to not think like that. Not ready for that.

She said that I needed to calm down and just wait to see what happens. To not jump to thinking it was already happening. Saying that she hoped that if it did happen that my man would support me and stay with me, as she loved me and didn’t want to see me leave. Saying that she wouldn’t want her son with anyone else.

I love this woman and her support through everything.

 

 

 

 

Only More Confusion

In the bathroom, when he was with me…. He seemed hesitate at first to tell me he wanted to marry me in the future. As he continued to talk, he got excited and even had the look of a child in a candy shop. The famous comparison of happiness and awe. It was mutual that we wanted and needed to wait. This was our future and something not to just toss the dice at, for our thoughts at least. Maybe we are crazy or paranoid. I don’t know. I think it’s rather smart. Wanting to wait until I have my degree and him wanting to wait until…. whatever he has in mind. I don’t think he’s made up his mind yet. He’s already signed the extension. I know in his heart he wants to make a career out of the Navy and I support him. I know this is what he wants, but I think he is now uncertain because I am now a part of the equation. I love him, but he’s dumb sometimes.

 

I wish I knew what happened to the candy shop love of marriage. Or the thought of it, at least. My only theory is that he has set off again on the second part of the deployment today and/or other people’s conversations may be influencing the thoughts. I wish I knew.

“It’s not going to change anything. It’s just a piece of paper. It’s only legal and about money.”

He never once brought up the issue or thoughts of money. It was never spoken. My reasoning behind wanting to wait is two simple reason. One, I want to be with my husband as much as possible and in the same state. Two, I want my degree through non martial finical aid and then being able to help support us. I was already thinking of this but refused to speak on it. His 27k a year (which he doesn’t know I know) and my part time 10k a year would be hard to live off of in a new house and a new car. He has dreams of all these things and no thinking of starting small. Dumbass. So, having a degree would make it a little easier.

 

After waiting and crying for many many nights and struggle to focus in school. Lord help me. I got my answers. And let me start with they are dumb.

He wants to be able to provide for me, wants to be able to support us in a legal way.

He wants to give me a big house with a yard that could hold the two dogs I beg him for our future. And that would accommodate the children we’ve been talking about as a possibility.

He wants to give me materialistic happiness.

I am happy with a studio as long as I get to be with him and get my job. Preferably get my dog or two. Children will come and he needs to stop worrying if the Navy will take away from our life. It won’t. I’ve already thought of all this.

Videos and pictures. I watch all his videos when I’m down or miss him until I feel better and can keep going. When we have children, we can make videos like that. We can have pictures meant for certain things. I’ve thought of these things. I know how to make this work. I wish he would trust me a little more.

 

I already have my maid of honor since I was 14. My cousin has already started her speech and I want her to give me away. We have a family wedding gown… I’ve already tried it on and only my cousin has seen me in it. Maybe I’m biased, but I look great in it.

I am ready to be with him forever. I love him.

 

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. 

 

 

 

A Sit Down

You ever think that some topics are just too much to talk about? Even with the person you need to talk about it with the most. Let me put you mind at ease and say that everyone feels this way and I wrote it like this just to start off a good post. I did good, didn’t I?

I was laying down next to the man I love dearly and thinking about all the things in life. I have a habit of always thinking about heavy stuff when I’m cuddling close to someone. His arm wrapped around my waist, grossly breathing on the back of my neck in a semi cute way and just knowing that he loved me too. It was nice.

But me being me and thinking too far and too much. I started to cry. Before I get completely detailed into this, I want to blurt something out. I am terrified by the idea of marriage. It may sound weird coming from a female, but I am. Carrying on. I was crying and naturally, he tried turning me to face him, but I didn’t want to. I wanted to be left alone. I wanted to walk away and deal with my emotions alone. Thing is, in a relationship, you have to let the other person be there for you. Him and I both are guilty of trying to deal with problems on our own until they get to be too much and then we go to each other. It is a short fight and then stuff is fixed fast. His being here, with me, he didn’t let me go. Which is the majority off why I wanted to write this post. That fucking brat and what he did.

He freaking sat on me. He’s half naked and pinning me down. I’m angry at this point because I just want to be left alone. I’m yelling at him and trying to push him off me. I am pretty sure he was having a blast. He was laughing the whole time. He held my hands and pinned my feet in some weird ass way. I have no idea how. We were on the bed, until I flipped us off and managed to pin him on floor. It overall was really fun. He, in the middle of the whole thing, kept licking my face. It was gross. When he finally stopped licking my face, he asked what made me cry. I asked (again) for him to let me up and he didn’t.  He asked again.

I told him that I was afraid that he was going to leave for deployment and come back and not want me as his forever. That he wouldn’t love me. A bunch of other fears. The same fears he and I have addressed multiple times before and I’ve gotten over multiple times, but it was still scary for me. He got off, not enough for me to run off though. He listened to me talk and I started to cry again. He listened and wiped my tears.

Then I got sick because I worked myself up so much.

While I was in the bathroom, being super sexy (major sarcasm here) and throwing up, he pulled my hair up and rubbed my back. He told me it would be okay. When I was okay, he cupped my face, all hallmark. He told me that he was going to wait until he came home to talk to me about it in case I changed my mind about us, but since I got so worked up… I seemed okay. He had been thinking of marrying me once he got shore duty. I was super confused. When in the hell would he get shore duty? His contract was up in a few years.

His ass…. He signed again. Another four years. I know at least of those four, I don’t know if he signed for more than that. I have a gut feeling that he signed for more than those four years. He sat on the sink counter as I sat on the floor trying to take this in and understand all of it. I don’t know why it was hard to understand. It was only a few facts in the conversation. He wanted to marry me when his first contract was up. He signed again. He may have signed for more than four years. Those were the facts. But then why was it so hard to grasp?

Going back to my fear of marriage. I am not afraid of commitment, nope, I want my dude to be mine. I want him to be old and grey haired on a rocking chair next to me one day. I want that. I’m not going to tell him that now, but that’s what I want. I’ve hinted at it once or twice, but never told him outright. Maybe I should’ve or maybe I should now. I don’t know. My fear is that one day he may change his mind. I don’t tell him this either. I don’t tell him because in my head, I think that it might give it a stronger possibility. I know, logically, that’s not possibly, but that’s my thinking. I have horrible anxiety.

He’s brought up marriage before. That was interesting and honestly scary and exciting. I kept asking a million questions, which I think resulted in freaking him out. I’m not going to bother going into that story.

I love that man.

Standards

My mother asked me when I was six what I wanted in my prince charming one day. I told her that he had to make me pancakes and sing to me like in all the cartoons, then I would go about my day to color more pictures that would hang on the fridge.

My mother asked me again when I was eight what I wanted in my prince charming when I grew up to find one. I told her that he had to be nice, share his toys with all the other kids and still had to sing to me like in all the Disney movies.

My mother asked me again when I was ten what I wanted in a boyfriend when I was allowed to have one. I would laugh and tell her that he had to be smart and funny and still had to sing to me like all the princes did in the Disney movies.

My mother asked me again when I was fifteenth what I wanted in a husband when I got to that point in my life. I rolled my eyes and asked her why she thought I would get married, that I just wanted to get tattoos and work in a hospital. She smiled and pushed for an answer. At this age, I had had a few crushes and I was liking one boy. I think his name was Brandon. I don’t remember. I started to describe what he looked like and then told her what I wanted his personality to be like. I wanted a guy that was smart, kind, had a sense of humor and would still sing to me.

Now that it is a few years later, my mother has yet to ask me again. I am waiting for it. I might go ahead and tell her anyways on my next phone call. Before I met my sailor, I would have told her that I wanted a guy that I could trust and rely on, that he must be kind. I wanted a guy that could make me laugh and help me relax when I got angry enough to want to hit someone (which I never have, but have wanted to). I would have told her that I wouldn’t have cared what he looked like as long as he took care of himself, but honestly I’ve always liked clean-shaven men. I would’ve also added in that he has to be good with kids. More than anything-he still has to sing to me.

When I told my mom I started dating a United States Sailor, she was quite at first. I got nervous. I wanted her approval. It was important to me. I wanted her to like him, or at least the idea of him. She started asking about him. She started with the basics, his name, where he was from, how old he is. Everyone knows the basics. She seemed interested and we kept talking for a good hour plus. This made me happy. Towards the end of our conversation, I asked if she thought she could like him. She said yes, but sooner or later wanted to talk to him herself. I smiled and shot my hand in the air, fist up. Then she asked the ultimate question.

“Has he sang for you yet?”

Oh mother. She cracks me up. But it is a good question. It must be on the boyfriend resume for my mother and me to continue to approve.

My answer. Yes, he has sang a song for me. Not a Disney song. Nope, and we weren’t dancing either. Personally, I think it was cheesier than that. I was sick and he was on his base while I was home. He felt bad that he couldn’t do anything to help me. So, us having talked about music a million times before…. He went into the bathroom away from his roommates and sang for me. I must tell you guys. I had butterflies and my cheeks were flushed. I was totally falling in love at this point. It was around three months into our relationship. I think.

BUT him being a little turd, when I felt better, he talked me into singing back to me. I love him. We’ve been singing back and forth to each other since. It’s adorable. I hate doing it, I get nervous every time, but it makes him smile. I like when he smiles.

I love him. I could scream it from the roof tops. But I don’t want to get arrested.