Well, not really the road. More like a figurative road or path. I need to get back to blogging.
I'm a mess. I really am. I don't even know where to start, because there are like ten different places I could start at. I'm lonely. I'm exhausted. I'm frustrated. I want help, but I feel like it has to be an emergency to ask for it. I need a day off. I need to not be the one responsible for a few hours. I need some freaking help. I need attention. Companionship. To feel like I can just be with someone else, an adult, for a few hours, without hassling them.
I need time to pass so I can stop waiting for all these things. All these things I have no control over. Anthony is due home in a few weeks, so they say. We keep looking forward to it, all but counting the days (he's too busy, I can't count anymore) until this mythical day. And yet...it's scarcely three weeks off. And he still has no itinerary for the flight home. How much can I believe in this date? (Not much, being the military. I won't believe he's going to be here until I can see him) In the meantime everything gets post-poned. Things I want to do and see, because I just can't.
More things put off for the baby. Not that I begrudge him that. But there are so many things I WANT to do, I NEED to do, and I can't do them until something ELSE happens. And I have no control over that something else either.
I guess that's where I'm floundering. I don't want to be in control of everything. But I'd like to have some say in SOMEthing. I know alot of this is unfixable. I don't know if this is even a cry for help because there's only so much people around here can do for me. Is it me? Am I too afraid to ask? Are they too afraid to offer? When I hear myself asking for their time, I hear desperation. Because I AM desperate. For just a few minutes of time. After being the friend that no one put the effort into for so many years, it's very hard for me to go back on my commitment to NOT be the only one calling and suggesting we hang out and whatnot. What's wrong with me that I always have to be the one to make the effort? (A little less true these days, as I've mentioned I just don't feed into those relationships anymore. If you're not going to make the effort to strike up a conversation or call me sometimes with hopes of spending time together, then I'm not entirely interested.)
Now please don't take me wrong. I'm not trying to place blame anywhere but on me. I have had alot of trouble asking, because I feel like I should be able to give in return, and I don't know if I can right now. Whether it's money or what have you. I can't even see myself doing a kidswap because, well, I don't know anyone local with kids and it scares the hell out of me. I don't know why. It shouldn't, because I'm about to have two to look out for anyway. But then maybe that scares the hell out of me too.
Because even when Anthony does come home, will the fabled help arrive? How many fights will we have because he's expecting a break and family time and I'm expecting...what? HELP. Time to get away. To go see a movie, or get my hair done, or just walk around a store without chasing a toddler (who does NOT want to stand still and look) or listening to said toddler scream and whine because he hates being trapped in a stroller? Time with friends? Will they suddenly make time for me once I don't have to take the tag-along with me everywhere?
One of my biggest fears...is that he won't BE home. That it will be Texas all over again. He was working so many hours that it felt like he lived on the ship and came home a few nights a week, for a few hours, to visit. I don't know if I can handle six months of that, and then right when Dori is going mobile, he's gone again. Another summer alone. Another summer of things I can't go and do because chasing two around a water park alone sounds like the total opposite of a good time.
How many times will the cycle repeat? I'm scared to death of what will happen to us and our family, what little intimacy remains, what little friendship, over the next year and a half. I'm weeping even writing that but it's true. The navy is taking us for all we're worth, and I'm not just talking money. My god I would give back the bonus in a heartbeat if we could undo the re-enlistment. I would shoulder back under all that debt we paid off with it. I would give back the two cars and spend more time on the old one, yes the old ratty sentra with no AC, if I could have the next four years of our lives (starting 2011) back. If one more idiot rants at me about how we should stick it out ELEVEN more years (after the next five) for a shitty retirement that we can't even live on I will punch them. In the throat. (This includes you, Mr "We're very well off thanks to retiring, bought a house, I ONLY WORK HERE BAGGING GROCERIES AT AGE 70 FOR MY HEALTH". You can stuff it.)
This is the military divorce rate. It's not cheating spouses and work stress. Those things play part, but they are not at the root of it. It's dragging families halfway across the world every year or three, dumping them in a new place with no friends, family, or outside support, and then sundering that family even further by removing the service member frequently, for long periods of time. And then we're SHOCKED that there are so many broken families in the military? We were not meant to raise children this way. The amount of stress it puts on a family is absolutely staggering. And it's all a slow buildup over time. A pecking, a nudge, a piling on of straws. And you know what happens when you carry too much straw.
(Quick aside: Our marriage is as well as can be expected. We don't have any major issues between us, just an understandable lack of intimacy given our circumstances the past year +. We're nowhere near divorce or any such thing. Truly. We just need some well-earned time together as a family to knit ourselves back together again. Thank god he has a ton of leave saved up.)
Ok, I've had a good cry, calmed down a bit. Feeling pretty drained from writing this out. There's more, but I don't have the strength to type it just now.