Hitting the (mental) wall

TEN MONTHS!!!!  So close, but not close enough.

It reminds me of the first marathon I ran (4 kids ago) in Richmond.  I just passed the 22 mile mark and was rather enjoying my first marathon. I had trained well and was feeling fine. There were lots of interesting people to chat with, but one guy I had to leave behind.  He said, "I feel like we're never going to get there."  That is POISONOUS thinking.  I picked up my pace and found a new person to talk to.

I am teetering on the brink of those same type of poisonous thoughts. You know them. You probably have thought some of them. Well, I am going to say them out loud. Verboten, I know. But sometimes seeing those thoughts in black and white robs them of their power.

"What was the point of getting married (or having kids) if he's never going to be here?"

"Good thing we're moving because I have taken over his closet space and his side of the bed."(This statement drips with sarcasm.  You want neither his side of the bed, nor his closet space. You want HIM at home, dammit.)

"How are we supposed to reintegrate when he'll probably leave again in 12 months?"

"Of course HE thinks (insert kid's newest trouble making adventure) is funny, he's over THERE. I'd think it was funny from Afghanistan, too."

"Next time, I'LL deploy. HE can stay here with these crazy people."


For those of you without a running problem, "hitting the wall" is the feeling associated with a physiological condition. Be it your pace or food choices, you have depleted the glycogen stores in your muscles. And you feel like crap.  Happened to me once on a training run and I will NEVER let it happen again.  All you can do is dig deep mentally and use your willpower to drag yourself across that finish line. 

I have hit the wall of this deployment. Stick a fork in me, I'm done.

I'm tired of being tired, and I think I lost my sense of humor in the car, or maybe at a doctor's office. 

I am also fighting the temptation of thinking that my husband's return will be some kind of silver bullet. Like the happiness fairy will sprinkle us with happy dust, and all will be sunshine and roses. We have a long summer of reintegration ahead of us.  Last year, I committed a normal Army wife sin- starting to distance oneself emotionally from a soon-to-be-deployed spouse a few months before he (or she) goes. We will have to rebuild those bonds, with 6 kids running amuck in the background.

So there it is. 

I'm at 22 miles, 4.2 to go, and feeling like I am never going to see the finish line.

Trying to take it one day at a time (me and the alcoholics). Trying to find just one thing to smile about each day.  Digging deep to drag myself across that finish line and into my husband's arms.