Looks Like We Made It
I must say that I have to give myself a little pat on the back for getting through this deployment with very few breakdowns. I've cried three times since The Hubby left for Iraq, not counting the time I watched the last Harry Potter film or when I was addicted to watching “surprise Solider homecomings” on Youtube.
The first time I cried was not when The Hubby left, but a week later when I felt trapped with a crap job at the bank on post. I bawled when I had to drop The Hubby off at the airport after R&R and was thankful that he didn't turn around to catch me. And then I cried again a few weeks ago when I had an especially bad day at work and felt utterly defeated.
All in all, I think I did pretty great. I didn't cry or freak out when our Skype screen went black, but I could still hear alarms and yelling in the background because rockets were coming their way. This has happened twice. Instead, I told myself to end the call and just wait for him to call back because I knew everything would be fine. How on earth was I able to keep my composure?
With the combination of great friends, embracing my independence, and keeping busy, this deployment was (dare I say it?) fairly easy. I think the most important thing I did for myself to make it thus far was to keep a good attitude about our situation. I know that there are other military wives reading, and I hope I don't offend anyone, but this is my truth. I think it is applicable for any wife dealing with a hardworking husband, or vice versa.
Sure, he's been gone for nearly a year and you have had to take care of everything yourself, but bitching about it really does not do anyone any good. I think it is incredibly important to be respectful to what your husband signed up to do. You should not show any hints that you are in any way angry at his occupation. This doesn't mean you can't express your opinions on things. If he bitches about the Army (and he will), bitch along with him. Just be sure that you don't put any blame on him.
He doesn't want to leave you any more than you want him to. He wants to be there to sing “Happy Birthday” when you turn 23 or heat up some precooked turkey with you on Thanksgiving. He wishes he could see Bella swim in a pool with dozens of other crazy pups. If he has to go out in the field for a few days and leaves you carless, so be it. You deal with it. Adapt to these circumstances. He knows it sucks, too. There is no need to remind him of it. He already feels guilty enough.
Do I feel a little sorry for myself when I have to deal with the auto shop and insurance company on my own when someone rear ends me? What about when three lightbulbs go out at one time and two out of the three replacements are duds? Or when Bella decides to throw up her dinner and permanently stain the bedroom carpet? Yes, but only for a moment. Then I remind myself of my own strength and my abilities of handling everything life throws at me.
I survived nine months minus two weeks without my husband. I have proved to myself that I can live on my own. However, this is different than saying that I can live without him. The simple thought that he would be back eventually is what kept me going. Even though I didn't need his help putting together massive Ikea furniture or changing the air filter, I still needed him in my life. I like to think that he needed me as well.
We're back physically in each other's lives, but we never truly left each other. Good job, Luv. I'm so proud of you.