Insomnia...

I had the idea when we found out that Dave was going to deploy that I would create my own version of a "Project 365" blog in correspondence to him being gone. It seemed easy enough; he would be gone for a year, I should be able to write about our days while he is gone. What I never anticipated was that I would not be able to bring myself to actually write about him leaving us. God knows that I have tried, and try as I might, I have not been able to put those feelings to paper--or in this case keyboard. I have only been able to talk about my feelings in regards to his departure to a very small circle, and writing about it I guess made the situation too real for me, and honestly it makes me feel too fragile. I say fragile, because I don't like the word weak. I don't identify myself with that word, and I've always prided myself on the fact that Dave said that he couldn't have married a more perfect wife for his line of work. On the other hand, he has also referred to me on occasion as "the ice queen" as I have been known to be somewhat cold and distant. Given his opinions, somehow, the word weak doesn't seem to fit.

Today marks exactly a month since he left, and I guess by now everything concerned with David being gone should feel REAL. I guess that is where my disconnect is. I have spent so much time in this last month avoiding the idea that he has left that I have made this so much harder on myself than it needed to be.

          This is the moon the night Dave left 28 Nov 2011


I returned home the night that I dropped him off to a quiet house, and I stifled the tears that I probably should have cried. Instead, I sat at my computer with the intent of blogging my heart out about my feelings, and all I could do was look at Facebook, upload a few photos, and update my status. I gave myself twelve hours to pull myself together, and put on a strong face, and be the role model that I should be. However, by doing this, I now realize that I was just delaying the inevitable, proverbial ripping off of the bandaid. 

Things were going very well for the first two weeks that he was gone. The household was running smoothly, the kids were in bed on time, the dishes were done after dinner, and I was going to bed by ten o'clock every night. About two and a half weeks in, I began having problems going to sleep. First, I would lie in bed and my mind would begin to race, and then it progressed to a point where I would be so tired,and as soon as I would walk into my empty bedroom my heart would begin to pound, and I wouldn't be able breath. Bedtime had become an event that I dreaded.By my own doing, I developed Separation Anxiety over my husband not being here. Say what??? Gosh that sounds so silly--and dare I say weak?

However, as silly as it sounds this anxiety is what is allowing me to be up writing this blog at three-thirty in the morning when I should be in bed sleeping. But, sleep eludes me...thank goodness the kids are still on winter break!

So, it is in the spirit of the New Year, and new beginnings, and my desire to move past this anxiety and be able to sleep, that I am ripping off this bandaid. I have finally allowed myself to cry tonight over this blog..partially because I feel like such a schmuck because I have always subscribed to the idea that crying is not going to change the situation, but mostly because this is the first time that I have allowed myself to truly FEEL this deployment--the emptiness of David's absence as well as the joy of anticipation that he will be back again.

This coming year holds so many milestones for everyone in our family and accomplishments to be made and be proud of. With the joy of those milestones will also be the empty pain in our hearts of knowing that we can't share those accomplishments together. However, I think I may have made one of my biggest accomplishments this morning with this blog. I allowed myself to feel emotion which is something that I haven't really done in years. I've rediscovered that it's okay to be emotionally attached and vulnerable to someone. I also discovered that it's okay to cry, because even though it may not change the situation, sometimes it just feels pretty damn good to take inventory of one's emotions and get them out.