Schizo

Disclaimer: So, I’ve been going back and forth about whether or not to post the blog this week because I feel like I’m on a bit of a roller coaster. And I’m not sure I want to admit to that. And I’m not sure I want people knowing it’s been a roller coaster week. And since I’m pretty much over it all at this point, I don’t want my friends to feel compelled to call to ask how I’m doing or feel badly that they didn’t call to ask how I was doing. This isn’t about them. It’s about me. And sometimes I think this stuff needs to be private. That said, if the purpose of this blog is *truly* to get it all out of my head and onto paper in the attempt to rid my brain of the clutter, then I suppose I’m going to have to post the good with the bad- the amazing with the frustrating. All of it. And so here we go. You've been warned.

Now, as indicated before, I’m the first person to tell anyone who asks that I have the best friends in the world. And if everyone had these types of people around, I am certain that life would be exponentially better for the entire planet. Seriously. I am so completely blessed to have these people in my life. And I’m even more fortunate in knowing that many of them are reading along with me on this little blog adventure. *Thank you* I so appreciate the comments…and the followers…and the feedback. People are offering such comfort and support and so many kind words. It is heartwarming knowing that I have such loyal people I can call my friends.

But sometimes, (only sometimes) I wish I had a separate group of friends- friends that don’t know me so well. Friends that are (or can be) completely impartial and objective (does that automatically remove them from the category of “friend”? Hmmm…) Friends that only know my situation and not my self. Friends that maybe have a better understanding of what it’s like to deal firsthand with deployment (how greedy am I? I just said I have the best friends in the world, and now I’m saying I wish I had OTHER friends. Illustrative point #23987 of my current, unsettled nature.) I guess that recently, just recently, (like the weather in the Midwest, give me 20 minutes and I’m sure that will change again) I wish I had more Army spouse friends.

As I have mentioned before, J and I don’t live in the same place. Besides the annoyance of just living hours away from him, what it also means is that I’m not regularly exposed to Army life, other Army spouses, or Army routines (yeah, how’s that for irony…when we lived in the same city for three years we were just friends…it wasn’t until J moved away that we fell in love and have spent two years doing the long distance thing. Right. J says that irony follows him everywhere. I’m starting to agree.) Now, to be totally frank, most of the time, that lack-of-proximity-to-Army-Post thing doesn’t bother me (at all). I’ve never really been into routine and regimen. And I’m *really* bad at things which require protocol (Worst.Army.Wife.EVER). And the several official Army events that I have attended…yeah, I’m not sure I fit in so well. But sometimes, I do wish I had a bit of that community.

Let me be clear: This is not to say that I have no Army spouse friends I can talk to. I actually have a handful who have been wonderful to me, even in the brief time that I’ve known them (note: they are far more like me than the stereotypical, Lifetime Channel “Army Wives” married-to-the-military picture you have in your head.) They’re all amazing people. Truly. But we don’t get to spend a great deal of quality time chatting it up. They are what I would call the “irregular friends” (relax, I’m not calling them weirdoes, I’m just contrasting them to friends I see/ communicate with on a REGULAR basis.)

Now, what started me on this little crazy train (I’m running off the rails? Ozzy? Anyone?) was a conversation I was having with one of my very good friends about writing this blog. I was talking about how cathartic it was. After having read the blog, she said to me, “Yeah, it’s great. I love your blog. You’re really funny...and it’s good writing. But it’s kinda, um, schizophrenic. You’re happy and funny and then all of a sudden- BAM you’re sad and serious.”

Um… yes. Wait, is that a bad thing? Crap.

I think I knew that that’s how I was feeling, but didn’t realize that that was what was coming out in the writing. And furthermore, is this normal? Do other people feel like this? Clearly I’m insane. Outstanding.

So, now I’m convinced I might actually be a lunatic. I’m probably not. This probably happens to all Army spouses when their better half is deployed (Right? Someone? Anyone? Yes?) But I mean, how does one broach that subject with someone, even with one of my Army spouse friends? “Hi Jane. How ya’ doing? How’re the kids? Good. Good. Say, I know we don’t talk on the regular, but it’s possible I’m going crazy, so I just thought I’d check in. Do me a favor and tap those really horrible memories of going through that extraordinarily difficult and painful period in your marriage. Yeah… were you crazy too? Great, thanks.”

I feel like that might be an awkward conversation.

And the thing is. I don’t want to talk about my feelings. I don’t want to discuss what triggered said random crying in the middle of the day. I don’t need a shrink (I know what the problem is. I miss J and worry about his safety.) I just need reassurance. Someone to say- yup. Been there. Done that. You’re normal and you’re going to be fine.

I think the tendency is to feel like somehow needing reassurance equates to being weak. And no one wants to admit that. J is off doing the hard work. All I have to do is stay put and keep living. That shouldn’t be hard, right? I don’t know-- maybe picking up the phone is the answer- just admitting that sometimes I’m all over the map. (I am horrible at this, by the way- admitting “weakness”, asking for help, accepting help, all of the above.) Maybe it’s time to tuck away my pride and just reach out to those who have been in my shoes before. Maybe even try to do a better job explaining to my non-Army friends how I’m feeling (who know me so well, love me so much, and know that these kinds of crazy mood swings and emotions are so completely uncharacteristic of me).

And so, I certainly resolve to try. But I’m still learning. And until I learn better to do those things, dear reader, forgive me. I think this blog is gonna be a little schizo. No worries, though. It’s just me, getting it out of my brain, staring crazy in the face, and trying to laugh at it.